Once, my black dorsal broke through undulations, glistening with the ocean. Descendants and life bask behind me, a one hundred year old granny, five tons – plenty of blubber. I gave birth to my last calf in my thirties, now there are only females and I count barnacles, an awkward Orca surfing night sweats, beached […]
Tag: Tuesday Platform
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 […]
Cold Hands
Your hands were always cold, my dear, Despite temperature and weather, The only time they warmed, my dear, Was when we were together, When you put your arms around my waist And intertwined your fingers. I can feel your breath upon my cheek, The scent of you still lingers, But now there’s only icy hands, […]
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 […]
Little Hunter
I’ve been watching at the window for a little hunter to glide across the garden towards the house. I’ve spotted it in the tall trees and landing on the broken gate, hunting a mouse. Sometimes it steeps razor talons in soil, tugging on earthworms and toppling when they crack. I’m hoping that one morning soon […]
In the Grip
We are in the grip of a stelliferous season, that famous episode of frost and florid falls of leaves in the annual Penny Dreadful, when we fend off the temptation to watch hours of plasma television. Outside, branches wave, trees tugged by boisterous fingers, a friendly invitation to join the fun, kick leaves, run riot, […]
Przejście (Transition): the anonymous pedestrians of Wroclaw
the weight of bronze hearts sinks in anonymity below the junction daily traffic flows, feet tread and the disappeared return © Kim M. Russell, 2016 My response to Carpe Diem Tanka Splendor #22 Teika’s 8th Tanka Writing Technique – Novel Treatment (prompt: blues) and linked to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Tuesday Platform In today’s episode of […]
Doll Phobia
in the dank cellar a distillation of fear seeps from dusty vials moulding into the vile tang of pink plastic with its sardonic grin staring with marbly eyes that blink knowingly in quirky silent movie motion © Kim M. Russell, 2016 – Andre Govia My response to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Photo Challenge #139 and shared on Imaginary Garden with […]
Surprises
In a blur of inner city (macular) de- generation, corporate vampires suck the blood of the nation, toppling steeples and […]
writing in north norfolk 