Kim M. Russell, 10th April 2019 My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Poems in April Day 10: Open a Book For the tenth challenge of this NaPoWriMo, Anmol with like us to pick up any books lying closest to us or pick them from our bookshelves: poetry collections, novels, dictionaries, telephone directories… we […]
Tag: Poems in April
Only a Dream
She longs for clandestine meetings in the middle of the night; moonlit, shadow-filled secret trysts are always fleeting. She’s left crying for more substance and feeling dissatisfied with the hoots and screams of owls, the cobweb caresses of the ghosts in the corner arousing only small emotions – compared to the great love of which […]
Dummy
You’re not on stage with your rictus grin or safe in your box and the darkness within, and no familiar hand is shoved into your head. With an audience like this you’re better off dead – but you’re not even alive, you dummy, and today’s woodwork class doesn’t think you’re funny. With their chisels, hammers […]
Etiquette
A pretty word is etiquette, similar to pirouette, yet it rhymes with petty mundane things like vinaigrette, eau de toilette, kitchenette, flannelette or washing at the launderette, leatherette or stockinette, or even string-pulled marionettes. I prefer the dark romance of a planchette or a silhouette. I’d rather be a suffragette. Kim M. Russell, 7th April […]
Cosmic Curiosity
How curious can rabbits be? Imagination and bunnies run riot beneath a canopy of stars, dodging the full bright of a dazzling moon to catch a distant twinkle before it crashes and burns. It’s not counting rabbits but constellations that send us to sleep, prehistoric slideshows projected on the inside of day-sore eyelids while we […]
Spirit in my Sanctum
I wasn’t told about a sitting tenant, didn’t ask for a housemate, certainly not an old creeper, a slipper shuffler, who leaves the seat up, the tap running and ghostly messages on the steamed-up bathroom mirror. I wouldn’t mind so much if he’d just leave me some of the bedclothes and stop levitating me when […]
The Beauty of Scars
The world can’t change its heart of scars, they are tattooed on every inch: silver words of sorrow and hurt birthing poems from blood and dirt, reminding us where we began and giving hope that we might end in a place where everyone appreciates the beauty of scars. Kim M. Russell, 4th April 2019 My […]
Cheese on Toast
I remember when we used to walk hand in hand along a sandy road that led to North Sea dunes, so deep into the night the lights had gone out in all the houses; we were guided by a sky full of stars and every time the moon disappeared, a nosy neighbour behind a curtain […]
I’m your little snow globe
Inside the roundness of my orb is a beach hut the colour of the sea, not grey as you’d expect on a wintry day but an optimistic shade of jade. There’s snow on its roof and sand at its base, a perfect place to write or watch the stars come out at night. I sit […]
April
April started just today and yet it seems so far away, a distant joke other people play when they are young and full of life. I remember being drunk with love, with music and the stars above, the cosy walks in sun and rain; I hope we’ll do it all again now that April’s here. […]
writing in north norfolk 