Muddle

From an untidy, disorganised muddle, we unpick poems, cuddle them close until they breathe. In a cluttered, haphazard jumble of thoughts and ideas, words tumble and line up themselves up cleaving imagery into stanzas, weaving poetic sanity from knots and tangles of the mind. Kim M. Russell, 7th May 2018 My response to dVerse Poets […]

Nothing at all

with a fastening of lips drawn and pressed in a tight line at superhuman speed she pulls her finger across the elongated hyphen the simulated silent zip she has none left to argue with no pizzazz, pep or vim she has nothing at all Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to ttps://dversepoets.com/2018/04/09/quadrille-52-zip-it/ De is our […]

Cracked Shell

On the paved path under the glossy bay tree, newly fallen from a nest, the jagged crack of half a freckled sky blue eggshell tears a hole in the day like a spring morning chorus of anxious mother birds, beaks open in raucous warning. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My poem for the dVerse Poets Pub […]

Morning Murmur

Streams trickle and ditches chuckle with last night’s rain; it giggles in puddles in the muddy lane and glistens on the window pane. In the gloom of my morning room, where merging shadows whisper, I just murmur, pull up the duvet and turn over. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille: […]