29 June: Morning Grass

Misky's avatarIt's Still Life

blades of green grass with droplets of dew

Day 29. Describe the feeling of walking barefoot on cool, damp grass.

Morning Grass

I’m a long shadow on morning,
staring at the moon tiptoeing
cool as a blossom underwater.

Here I’ll stay in gleaming grass,
in your womb of dew-drip moss,
your green abyss and pastures.

Morning grass, a chalice of dew,
credo to a song that rakes
at my margins,

and here I’ll stay
until I think like morning grass.


Written for The Wildness Challenge Day 29. Describe the feeling of walking barefoot on cool, damp grass. How does it connect you to the Earth?Artwork is created using Midjourney. Imagery and poems ©Misky 2023.

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29 June: A Thursday Door

Misky's avatarIt's Still Life

Bushboy (Brian Dodd) shares photos of doors, but not just any doors. Spectacular doors from his journeys. Dan’s Thursdays Doors opened the door on this. I love doors of all sorts. I’ve trawled through my holiday snaps and found a few to share.


©Misky 2023 Shared on Twitter #amwriting @bushboywhotweetand @DAntion

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Over on Substack: Helen Mort talks about her novel, ‘Black Car Burning’

wendycatpratt's avatarWendy Pratt

“I see all the things we write and publish as markers in time.”

Follow this link to my Substack page to find out what’s happening: Substack

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Poetry by Chris Dean inspired by Joni Mitchell

davidlonan1's avatarFevers of the Mind

side to side

You sent me a tape Three, four… Five states away. I listened Flipping it side to side In the old boombox, Drinking in the songs Like a drowning man Lost at sea. We spoke little in those days Before we didn't speak at all. You sent letters written in lyrics, A code for me to decipher. Flipping side to side, Searching for hidden truths And some answer to the question I could never bring myself To ask out loud. You fancied yourself a punk But the ribbons were filled With acoustic and folk - Lush guitars, Poems spoken and sung. I played them Until the tapes Were dirty and worn, Always flipping side to side. So many moons and Junes Have passed, Years of your silence While I tried to crack the code, Flipping side to side. I think that final letter Always said it all; The…

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A Poetry Showcase (June 2023) for Victoria Leigh Bennett

davidlonan1's avatarFevers of the Mind

photo from pixabay (dimitrisvetsikas1969)

Bio: Victoria Bennett, (she/her).  Greater Boston, MA area, born WV.  Ph.D., English/Theater.  Website: creative-shadows.com.  In-Print: “Poems from the Northeast,” 2021; OOP but free to read on website: “Scenes de la Vie Americaine (en Paris),” [in English], 2022.  Between Fall 2021-Summer 2023, Victoria will have published at least 35 times with:  Fevers of the Mind Poetry & Art, Roi Faineant Literary Press, The Hooghly Review, The Unconventional Courier, Discretionary Love, Amphora Magazine, Barzakh Magazine, The Madrigal Press, Alien Buddha Press, Olympia Publishers, Winning Writers, Cult of Clio.  She has been accepted with 4 poems for the November 2023 issue of Dreich Magazine.  Victoria writes Fiction/Flash/Poetry/CNF/Essays.  She is the organizer behind the poets’ collective @PoetsonThursday on Twitter, along with Alex Guenther and Dave Garbutt.  Twitter:  @vicklbennett & @PoetsonThursday; Mastodon:  @vickileigh@mstdn.social & @vickileigh@writing.exchange.  Victoria is ocularly and emotionally disabled.

The Storehouse

“Come up, some time, for tea.” A…

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Wildness Day 24

Jane Dougherty's avatarThe Four Swans

The poem I wrote for Paul Brookes’ challenge and wasn’t able to post.

Wolf,

where are you?
I know you’re there, lying low.
Not in these quiet meadows
and wooded slopes perhaps,
but along Garonne’s broad reaches
harried by flood waters,
where farm buildings sink beneath the weight of ivy,
wooden planking falls like flakes of slate.

Wolf, where are you?
Down there amid the forest-tangle,
the woodland left untended,
plantations abandoned?
Where sounders of boar roam uncontested?
Where deer multiply undisturbed?

The hunters know, and they won’t tell,
won’t give you away,
they want your souls for their private tally.

I would know, would love to find a sign,
not to pry, your paths are your own,
to put your secret beneath protecting wings,

so, wolf, if you roam among these tangled trees
If you slip from shade to shade along the wild paths,
you may roam in silent…

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28 June: A Gogyōka Poem

Misky's avatarIt's Still Life

AI art: cubism forest fire in the style Paul Klee.

Day 28. Write a poem celebrating the resilience of nature, even in the face of human challenges.

Forest Fire

Fire is reigning here alone
Trees in flames of glowing stars
Ash, page after page, falling like snow
Two branches fall to earth below
Saplings see a broadening sky


Poem form: Gogyōka (Japanese: 五行歌) is a five-line, untitled, Japanese poetic form. Unlike tanka (5.7.5.7.7 syllables), it has no restrictions on length. Any rhyming is by pure accident. Artwork is created using Midjourney. Imagery and poems ©Misky 2023.

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Gogyohka

Jane Dougherty's avatarThe Four Swans

I’ve missed a lot, even my Saturday visit to the Oracle. I’ll start to catch up tomorrow. Meanwhile, this is last week’s form, chosen by Paul Brookes.

I enjoy these very short, imagistic poems without the constraint of counting syllables. Looking on Wikipedia for examples, my browser took me to the French Wikipédia and it struck me that this form, like many short, imagist forms, is very much suited to the French language. I tried the form in English, both English and French, and in French. First attempts tended to be longer, possibly trying to add too much detail, and later poems much sparser, which is arguably more in the Japanese spirit.

Gogyohka

1.

rain falls and falls from grey oceans
sky colour of gulls and pigeons
laps shorelines of golden grasses
where kestrels hang
banners of long red wings

2.

mornings
grey as twilit cats
ripple into song
as…

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A new poetry Showcase from Patricia M Osborne

davidlonan1's avatarFevers of the Mind

Bio:

Married with grown-up children and grandchildren, Patricia M Osborne likes to paint pictures with words. She is a published novelist, poet and short fiction writer with five poetry pamphlets published by The Hedgehog Poetry Press, and numerous poems and short stories appearing in various literary magazines and anthologies. Her debut poetry pamphlet, Taxus Baccata, was nominated for the Michael Marks Pamphlet Award. Patricia has an MA in creative writing.

Patricia has a successful blog at Whitewingsbooks.com featuring other writers. When Patricia isn’t working on her own writing, she enjoys sharing her knowledge, acting as a mentor to fellow writers.

Twitter https://twitter.com/PMOsborneWriter

Website: https://whitewingsbooks.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/triciaosbornewriter

Little Green Suit

I cried at bath time, not wanting to go to bed, but Mum perched me on the counter, told me I was going out instead. She dressed me in a little green suit, two straps held the green-fleck pleated skirt in…

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27 June: Flash Fiction – Cherry Pickin’ Crows

Misky's avatarIt's Still Life

wheat field with broad sky and scattered clouds. Summer. Colours gold, white, grey blue and green

Day 27: Imagine you are a character in a wildlife-themed adventure novel. Describe the perilous situation you find yourself in and how you escape.

Cherry Pickin’ Crows

There’s no writing yourself out of this one. Think. And don’t panic. It doesn’t help. Nor does shouting. Your pipes will go hoarse.

I often talk to myself like this. I lost my voice once, and didn’t even realise until Mum asked me a question. I was all croaky sounding. You don’t need a voice when you’re doing all your talking inside your head.

I’m 6. I’d tell you my name, but your knowing it doesn’t change anything. I’m healthy, happy, and a bit short of 6-years in height, and I’ve walked into a field of tall wheat – forgetting to notice where I came from, well … I mean, I know where I came from – a little village with a deep-flowing…

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