The February/March issue of The Drunken Violet Review has been posted today and it features excellent writing and photography by talented poets and artists, as well as two of my unpublished poems. It is well worth a look so please follow this link: https://thedrunkenvioletreview.wordpress.com/category/febmar-2017/
Tag: Poems
A poem to sum up my feelings in this post.
Weaving
A weaver, when she has prepared her loom, Lifts and depresses threads using a comb, A rigid heddle to help create a gap And stop the cloth collapsing in her lap. She knots and loops a rainbow of design With different wools and silks, both thick and fine, Depending on the outcome of it all: […]
Eyes Wide Open
At five o’clock, the moon’s face Peered into my window, Suspended in the space Between the branches of the willow, Pregnant with poetry. At six, I blindly tip-toed down the shadow Of the stairs, carefully Cradling my lunar embryo, Crooning a lullaby, a celestial tune To soothe the baby moon. At dawn, the poem was […]
Starting the New Year with Visual Verse
After a bleak start to the New Year, my mood is a little lighter now that another of my submissions has been included in the latest online Visual Verse anthology. At the moment, my poem ‘Blue’ is on page 17 of Vol. 4, Chapter 3: http://visualverse.org
Edelweiss
He captured her heart with his ludic smile that shone like a lantern. He cursed her heart, flambéed in edelweiss, until it crumbled in his hands. He tossed her heart, the irrevocable ashes, birdseed descendent on winter wind. Now he has no heart, looks askance at birds and friendly scarecrows, gnashing his alcohol-rotten teeth. Kim […]
A Poem Comes to Life
The white bones of a poem long for words, flesh of their existence. Wily words prick, leaving indelible tattoos on the poet’s soul, squirming onto a page, punctuated with Rorschach blots. The poet splits into three: artist, scribe and critic talk among themselves. Kim M. Russell, 2016 My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads: The […]
A Round of Robins
Tucked into a bowl of shallow hills, where icicles hang and chill snow spills over the valley like milk on cornflakes, is a cosy chocolate yule log cabin, home to the guardian of Christmas robins. Stoking a crackling stove with wood, she prepares a feast of woodland food: fat balls, berries, nuts and seeds to […]
Shiny Red Wellies
At the beginning of December your first year was over; you had found your feet, unsteady as yet but eager to make a quick escape. You wanted to chase flakes that fell from the sky, fluttered on your eye lashes and kissed your cheeks, even after a week when snow rose to the roof, icicles […]
Honesty
In spring, at the end of my grandparents’ Otherwise tidy garden, I gazed for hours At scruffy clumps of white and purple flowers: Granddad called them honesty, Which puzzled me. I watched their pretty petals perish, Leaving brown paper parcels of seeds, Waiting to be buffeted on a breeze Whose windy fingers would peel away […]
6 am
Six o’clock is muted; A few birds mutter tentatively As if morning is disputed, Unsure of their internal clocks Due to the absent Crowing of the neighbour’s cock. The sky is opaque with autumn mist The colour of an old vest. Hanging from the pinch of plastic pegs, Limp washing drips. Silence sizzles. And then, […]
writing in north norfolk 