In the lengthening shadow of summer’s hinterland, leaves are already yellow and their dusty weariness is beginning to show. Counting the days that empty with their falling, tattered and brittle, they know they must go. Kim M. Russell, 29th August 2019 My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Micro Poetry: Fill The Empty Parts […]
Tag: Imaginary Garden with Real Toads
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In a graveyard of crumbling bones, lichen blemishes untended stones, erases brief life stories of the dead waiting for the world to turn back. Their remains have succumbed to worm and maggot, but their souls still dwell in established heartlands and monuments, splashed with light that shifts with overhanging leaves, are touchstones for the afterlife […]
Looming
This year, high summer has cast a tidal wave of rhetorical bullshit. We swim in an ocean of it. It’s smeared over every beach, masking the sweet scent of sunscreen with its bitter stink until nothing’s left of August’s decadence. Sunny holidays disappear into autumn shadows, night falls far too soon, and the stench of […]
words in water
water has no punctuation its words just flow around rocks and pebbles or wear them down to silt roll from ripples and pop from bubbles whirl in eddies and sparkle in foam crackle from crystals that form in winter sub-zero dirges that melt into spring filling every ditch and gutter with gurgles and splashes and […]
La Catrina
It is said that you should never place your faith in a sensual woman in red with full lips on a smooth-skinned face, who sells bitterroot to raise the dead. Her naked heart was born to darkness, counting corpses in an eternity of death and wicked business running the affairs of the city of bones […]
Bodies
Our bodies unfurl and then curl into each other under night’s cover. We are waves in motion on an inky ocean or sand-blown stones hidden in a desert’s undertones. We are intertwined limbs, hearts, souls and minds, dancing in the dark until we spark – stars falling in the empty sky of morning. Kim M. […]
Meditation on a Leaf
My head fills with chlorophyll, green blood of a mesophyll, as I follow ants and flies on microscopic journeys. Rain-blessed and windblown, leaves leave my mind blown, ecstatic with a peaceful heart, each vein a karmic chart. Kim M. Russell, 6th August 2019 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Poetics: Mindfulness, also linked to Imaginary […]
Dawn Apocalypse
The annihilator rises and dons his crown of peaks tinged red with blood and dawn. At his feet, leafless trees feign death, mighty forests bristling with dread, and convocations of eagles take wing, their obedient beaks sharpened to do his bidding; and we, like timid rabbits, scutter for shelter from the emperor’s apocalyptic helter skelter. […]
Arbutus at Kew Gardens
It’s a lifetime since we rode the red bus from Twickenham to Kew, me and you, and walked among the trees: blossoms in spring and – in autumn – leaves. We listened […]
Woken by a Summer Night
White hot lightning flashes through the blinds, a celestial photographer illuminating crumpled sheets twisted with the lack of sleep. Fiddling with volume control, clouds amplify and dull thunder’s rock and roll, rattling roof tiles and wooden blinds like xylophones. Beside the bed, a glass of tepid water whirlpools with vibrations. Kim M. Russell, 30th July […]
writing in north norfolk 