Day Twenty-Fifth : Welcome to a special ekphrastic challenge for November. Artworks from Terry Chipp, Marcel Herms, MJ Saucer, P A Morbid, the inspiration for writers, Gaynor Kane, Peach Delphine, Sally O’Dowd, sonja benskin mesher, Anindita Sengupta, Liam Michael Stainsby, Sarah Connor, Sarah Reeson, Holly York, Jane Dougherty, Gayle J Greenlea, Susan Darlington, Lydia Wist, Dai Fry, and myself. November 25th.

Day 25th

MH25 They're supposed to be my dreams, mixed media on paper, 21 x 29,7 cm, 2019

They’re supposed to be my dreams by Marcel Herms

The Lorikeet

I saw the flash of rainbow wings an instant before a sharp thud
shuddered through glass, sickening downward flutter, inertia

interrupted. I hurried outside to revive the small parrot, a lorikeet,
cushioned in flowerbed debris under red bottle brush and kangaroo

paw. There was no heaving of the tiny breast. I stroked iridescent
feathers, willing breath. In Dreamtime, the lorikeet flies into a rainbow

to adorn her plumage. Sometimes she is a disabled girl who dreams
of flying. Rainbow Spirit changes her into a dazzling bird.

The fallen lorikeet lies still, eyes closed. Her colorful strands are my dreams,
inertia slammed by neuroimmune disease. I’ve seen endless horizons in

all directions, but not the invisible barrier that would ground me. Gently,
I cup my hands around the injured bird, cradling lost parts of myself.

We wait, the lorikeet and I. Faint murmur of consciousness, sudden
fluffing of down on skin. In a gust of wind my visitor swoops into air.

I shade my eyes to watch her ascent.

— Gayle J. Greenlea

(They’re Supposed to be My Dreams)

“Jumping Jack”

It’s said that a box of sensitive files was stolen from a high rise building in the capital.

It’s said that the box is now with its rightful owner on a beach or slice of verdant wilderness.

All that sits in the box’s previous location is a cryptic note marking it’s absence.

-Lydia Wist


You’re supposed
to fly … evermore.

Lost rocket
swallow diving.
A slow descent into
the centre of the
Milky Way.

Dark ghost heart beating.
Tin can meets,
the silent eye
of the vacuum.

Do machines
dream alone?
A maker’s memory
emerging so far away.

Sing the song electric
mechanicals comfort
until their doomsday.

Do they cry
or silently despair as
they sleep alone.

One by one
the lights go out.
Is it enough
they still serve?

© Dai Fry 22nd November

They’re supposed to be my dreams

Dirt floors, palmetto thatch
thick dragonflies up from river,
cypress piercing azure
heat settling in a stifling quilt.
Going to town, relentless
background noise, pressing
hands to face, seeing with palms,
dark tongues of wind licking
away buildings, shelf clouds
come hammering down rain
cooked up far out in the Gulf,
the kicker is the surge
peeling up roads, floating
away cars, inundation
fills my sleep, a great storm
come to scour clean, leaving
nothing but sand and wrack.

-Peach Delphine

.day 25.

:: gains & experiences ::

do you see that it is not there?

having checked several times this end
find there is just the one with no problems therefore

note the rules down one side
hysteria the other

lists remain of all that is lost
no mention of gains or fortitude

some may look for the other one
some may find it

while the little people with their arms held high
dance in the sunlight with all that remains

we ask for the italian music this morning

.. sbm ..

They’re Not in Black and White?

THEY,–not the others, are
SUPPOSED TO BE,—but aren’t
MY—not your, his or her
DREAMS,—not nightmares.
Time to sleep, not pinball around,
a wrinkled script in my head
on an endless loop in colors
that vibrate behind closed eyelids.

-Holly York


You were a river gorge, red
& swagger, the scritch of trees
against sky, light staggering
through consciousness. Sun
and water may look like they braid
but they remain separate.
I cup pink in my hands, lie rippled
for the skip of burgundy
stones. I sleep on riverbanks,
clove-shaped. My heart wades
in grey-shine. You would not know
the allure of such muted places
where even fish hesitate to nibble
and day is a country left behind.

-Anindita Sengupta


This is what you get, says the Sandman,
teeth and hands red and running,
this is what you get because there’s nothing more.

I shake my head until it almost drops off,
limp as a frost-bitten rose bud,
and the ocean stretches deep and blue and glittering.

The bringer of nightmares turns
away, and the world goes black,
as a Sandman’s cloak, but in the dark

the waves still gleam
with the dancing of dolphins
and the golden sheen of apples,

and I smile
because he doesn’t know
that there are dreams too.

-Jane Dougherty

Bios and Links

-Terry Chipp

grew up in Thurnscoe and ia now living in Doncaster via Wath Grammar school, Doncaster Art College, Bede College in Durham and 30 years teaching.

He sold his first painting at the Goldthorpe Welfare Hall annual exhibition at the age of 17 and he haven’t stopped painting since.

He escaped the classroom 20 years ago to devote more time to his artwork.  Since then he has set up his own studio in Doncaster, exhibited across the north of England as a member of the Leeds Fine Artists group and had his painting demonstrations featured on the SAA’s Painting and drawing TV channel.  Further afield he has accepted invitations to work with international artists’ groups in Spain, Macedonia, Montenegro and USA where his paintings are held in public and private collections. In 2018 he had a solo exhibition in Warsaw, Poland and a joint exhibition in Germany.

His pictures cover a wide range of styles and subjects from abstract to photo-realism though he frequently returns to his main loves of landscape and people.

Visitors are welcome at his studio in the old Art College on Church View, Doncaster.


Facebook:  Terry Chipp Fine Art Painting


-Marcel Herms

is a Dutch visual artist. He is also one of the two men behind the publishing house Petrichor. Freedom is very important in the visual work of Marcel Herms. In his paintings he can express who he really is in complete freedom. Without the social barriers of everyday life.
There is a strong relationship with music. Like music, Herms’ art is about autonomy, freedom, passion, color and rhythm. You can hear the rhythm of the colors, the rhythm of the brushstrokes, the raging cry of the pencil, the subtle melody of a collage. The figures in his paintings rotate around you in shock, they are heavily abstracted, making it unclear what they are doing. Sometimes they look like people, monsters, children or animals, or something in between. Sometimes they disappear to be replaced immediately or to take on a different guise. The paintings invite the viewer to join this journey. Free-spirited.

He collaborates with many different authors, poets, visual artists and audio artists from around the world and his work is published by many different publishers.

-Jane Dougherty

writes novels, short stories and lots of poems. Among her publications is her first chapbook of poetry, thicker than water. She is also a regular contributor to Visual Verse and the Ekphrastic Review. You can find her on twitter @MJDougherty33 and on her blog

-Peach Delphine

is a queer poet from Tampa, Florida. Infatuated with what remains of the undeveloped Gulf coast. Former cook. Has had poems in Cypress Press, Feral Poetry, IceFloe Press, Petrichor. Can be found on Twitter@Peach Delphine

-Dai Fry

is a poet living on the south coast of England. Originally from Swansea. Wales was and still is a huge influence on everything. My pen is my brush. Twitter:  



-Susan Darlington

Susan Darlington’s poetry regularly explores the female experience through nature-based symbolism and stories of transformation. It has been published in Fragmented Voices, Algebra Of Owls, Dreams Walking, and Anti-Heroin Chic among others. Her debut collection, ‘Under The Devil’s Moon’, was published by Penniless Press Publications (2015). Follow her @S_sanDarlington    

-Holly York

lives in Atlanta, Georgia with her two large, frightening lapdogs. A PhD in French language and literature, she has retired from teaching French to university students, as well as from fierce competition in martial arts and distance running. She has produced the chapbooks Backwards Through the Rekroy Wen, Scapes, and Postcard Poetry 2020. When she isn’t hard at work writing poems in English, she might be found reading them in French to her long-suffering grandchildren, who don’t yet speak French.

-Gayle J. Greenlea

is an award-winning poet and counselor for survivors of sexual and gender-related violence. Her poem, “Wonderland”, received the Australian Poetry Prod Award in 2011. She shortlisted and longlisted for the Fish Poetry Prize in 2013, and debuted her first novel Zero Gravity at the KGB Literary Bar in Manhattan in 2016. Her work has been published in St. Julian Press, Rebelle Society, A Time to Speak, Astronomy Magazine, Headline Poetry and Press and The Australian Health Review.

-Lydia Wist

Like someone who tries out hats or other samples before making a final decision, experimenting with different ideas and techniques is how Lydia spends some of her time. This allows for other portions of time to speak through the lens of fiction, creative nonfiction and art. You can find her work at Cargo Collective , Lydia Wist Creative and on Twitter @Lydiawist.

Website links:

-Sarah Connor

lives in the wild, wet, south-west of England, surrounded by mud and apple trees. She writes poems to make sense of the world, and would rather weed than wash up.

-sonja benskin mesher

-Liam Stainsby

holds a bachelor in English Literature and Creative Writing and is a secondary school teacher of English and Creative Writing. Liam is currently writing his first, professional collection of poetry entitled Borders that explores poetry from all around the world. Liam also Co-Hosts a movie discussion podcast entitled: The Pick and Mix Podcast. Liam writes under the pseudonym ‘Michael The Poet’ 

Links: WordPress:

Twitter: stainsby_liam

Instagram: Michael The Poet

-Sarah Reeson

is 54, married and a mother of two, who has been writing and telling stories since childhood. Over the last decade she has utilised writing not just as entertainment, but as a means to improve personal communication skills. That process unexpectedly uncovered increasingly difficult and unpleasant feelings, many forgotten for decades. Diagnosed as a historic trauma survivor in May 2019, Mental health issues had previously hindered the entirety of her adult life: the shift into writing as expression and part of a larger journey into self-awareness began to slowly unwind for her from the past, providing inspiration and focus for a late career change as a multidisciplined artist.


-Gaynor Kane

is a Northern Irish poet from Belfast. She has two poetry pamphlets, and a full collection, from Hedgehog Poetry Press, they are Circling the Sun, Memory Forest and Venus in pink marble (2018, 2019 and Summer 2020 respectively). She is co-author, along with Karen Mooney, of Penned In a poetry pamphlet written in response to the pandemic and due for release 30th November 2020.  Follow her on Twitter @gaynorkane or read more at

Anindita Sengupta

is the author of Walk Like Monsters (Paperwall, 2016) and City of Water (Sahitya Akademi, 2010). Her work has appeared in anthologies and journals such as Plume, 580 Split, One and Breakwater Review. She is Contributing Editor, Poetry, at Barren Magazine. She has received fellowships and awards from the Charles Wallace Trust India, the International Reporting Project, TFA India and Muse India. She currently lives in Los Angeles, California. Her website is 


One thought on “Day Twenty-Fifth : Welcome to a special ekphrastic challenge for November. Artworks from Terry Chipp, Marcel Herms, MJ Saucer, P A Morbid, the inspiration for writers, Gaynor Kane, Peach Delphine, Sally O’Dowd, sonja benskin mesher, Anindita Sengupta, Liam Michael Stainsby, Sarah Connor, Sarah Reeson, Holly York, Jane Dougherty, Gayle J Greenlea, Susan Darlington, Lydia Wist, Dai Fry, and myself. November 25th.

  1. Pingback: November Ekphrastic Challenge: Day 25 – Jane Dougherty Writes

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