Invitation to the Tyburn Jig

In the shadow of the gallows, not far from the hangman’s noose, the young pick-pocket drowns in the shallow murk of a blindman’s holiday, once the jailer’s doused the glim. He was born under a threepenny planet, dipping wipers for a tot of lightning, dodging charlies and soul-drivers. Holed up in a gospel-shop, pot-valiant, he forgot […]


Scientists and builders envision a future skyscraper that devours smog: free radicals will mélange mist and fog, metaphor murk and mêlée confusion into melancholy morasses and disperse them into the sky as mellifluous gases. Kim M. Russell, 2017 Image found on My response to dVerse Poets Pub Tuesday Poetics – Verbify Me!  Also linked to […]

Chestnuts and Honesty

Lacklustre remains of chestnuts Nestle in messy mats of leaves And wind-dried crackling pods Marked by embryonic seeds. The forest floor’s fluorescent With early morning frost, Strung with brittle gossamer, Slippery with drips and trickles. The world awakes to winter bells: A glockenspiel of icicles. Kim M. Russell, 2017 – Ilmari Nen My response to […]

Rope Trick

Twisted strands of silent bangles, Bloody hands from knots and tangles, Slung and tied, she is suspended Vertically, rolled and upended In an age-old circus trick On a rope tensile and thick, She slips up fibres like a snake Up vines, praying they will not break. Kim M. Russell, 2016 – Natalia Drepina My response […]

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 […]