Wednesday, 31 December 2008

hand-knit drystone walls,
land enriched with seaweed stitch –
feel the warmth

*

Susan Richardson
Susan's Journal of Literary Things

Tuesday, 30 December 2008

December

Gunshot-poinsettas in windows –
mauve smoke seething
in cold, twilit yards.

*

Claire Askew
Read This Magazine

Monday, 29 December 2008

DAWN SHIFT

Everything you left will wait
yawning and stretching my arms

*

Charles Lambert
Charles Lambert

Sunday, 28 December 2008

A pheasant searches the long grass;

slow
deliberate
steps
head bobbing,

*

Julie Singleton
Julie Singleton

Saturday, 27 December 2008

Rain flattens and shines a mosaic of fingery oak leaves on my front walk.

*

Will Collum
Serpentinarium

Friday, 26 December 2008

the winter shadows on the snow are as long as memories

*

Janet Smith
Mid-Life Clarity

Thursday, 25 December 2008

Wednesday, 24 December 2008

How far did you travel just to melt on my nose, little snowflake?

*

Victoria Macdonald

Tuesday, 23 December 2008

Lake City: a man sweeps fall into a dust pan, drops it in a bag.

*

Dana Guthrie Martin
my gorgeous somewhere

Monday, 22 December 2008

The light ebbs away slowly from a sky the colour of pale tea and ink stains.

*

Katherine Woodfine
follow the yellow brick road

Sunday, 21 December 2008

Bright green lichen
gloves the cold joints
of twig bones.

*

Annie Kerr
Ink haven

Saturday, 20 December 2008

mustard crusted torch of a moon pierces straight-laced net curtains drawn by the cold world

*

Gordon Mason
Catapult To Mars

Friday, 19 December 2008

Bright sunshine shows up the emptying trees, gardens glazed in moisture.

*

Matthew Friday
Matthew Friday

Thursday, 18 December 2008

Wednesday, 17 December 2008

Pine Lake

A turpentine moon in widowed sky
strips a path across the varnished lake.

*

Gordon Mason
Catapult to Mars

Tuesday, 16 December 2008

Monday, 15 December 2008

Frost standing upright on the fencepost like iron-filings on a magnet.

*

Lorna Senior

Sunday, 14 December 2008

Taste - panic

Tension makes
My mouth self-conscious
It is drier, more bitter
My tongue just an obstruction

*

Rachel Fox
More about the song

Saturday, 13 December 2008

Friday, 12 December 2008

Thursday, 11 December 2008

Wednesday, 10 December 2008

You recited my poem
so badly that
it seemed like one of yours.

*

Martial: Epigrams
Translated by Ian House

Tuesday, 9 December 2008

Deep frost glitters in
the headlights of passers-by;
crows eat the apples

*

Rachel Green
When the Dogs Bite

Monday, 8 December 2008

Sunday, 7 December 2008

Saturday, 6 December 2008

This dog understands the nature of sticks, how much they need to be thrown.

*

We liked it but not quite enough

Friday, 5 December 2008

Thursday, 4 December 2008

Orange balloons, candlelit from within, float across the sky, disappear in darkness.

*

Juliet Wilson
Crafty Green Poet

Wednesday, 3 December 2008

Daisies star the grass - the sky emptied its catch while we were sleeping.

*

Maggie Sawkins
Maggie Sawkins

Tuesday, 2 December 2008

my round dumpling of a tiny girl pushes deeply at the golden squash and ivory rice cereal that went down so easily and bedevils her best efforts to give it an equal exit

*

rm mist
What The Muses Leave Behind

Monday, 1 December 2008

Night Drive

Our headlights’ treasure:
eyeglint, a nightjar, jewels
in a feathered fist.

*

Isobel Dixon
Isobel Dixon

Sunday, 30 November 2008

Saturday, 29 November 2008

Our Discovery Apple tree, alive with red Admiral butterflies seeking the ripest fruit in the September sunshine.

*

Caroline M. Davies
Advancing Poetry

Friday, 28 November 2008

The scribbled silhouettes of bare trees, the shapes of unfurling hedgerows, long whiskery brown grass, an open field flashing past for a fleeting moment, then lost again in the dark.

*

Katherine Woodfine
follow the yellow brick road

Thursday, 27 November 2008

Sidereal

Alone at night on a dock,
crouched low on wooden boards,
edge of a cool November lake.
Black water mirrors a moon
suspended above cedars–
we wend our way, the moon and I,
across a midnight streaked with stars.

*

Christine Swint
balanced on the edge

Wednesday, 26 November 2008

sparrows sip thaw beads a warmth has sweated off four frosts

*

Gordon Mason
Catapult To Mars

Tuesday, 25 November 2008

A tracing paper day. The sky and ‘scape grey and blurred at the edges.

*

Kristina Meredith
The Apprentice Writer

Sunday, 23 November 2008

The scarlet jam flows like hot lava onto the cool pale pavement. Small salty tears trickle down sugar covered cheeks as sticky fingers reach for the fallen treat.

*

Jo Cooper
Reason, Season or Lifetime

Saturday, 22 November 2008

The last leaves of autumn crunch underfoot, crisp as cornflakes.

*

Lorna Senior

Friday, 21 November 2008

Evening gloom like a glove slips over the street
swats away the sun, leaving a yellow smear
in the darkening sky, darkening.

*

Matthew Friday
Matthew Friday

Thursday, 20 November 2008

Wednesday, 19 November 2008

the interstate's a runway for the fall fashion statements of the trees

*

Charlotte Babb
Miss Charlotte's Babblings

Tuesday, 18 November 2008

each morning from my bedroom window, through the open red shutters, the topmost leaves of the plane trees, and above, the crown of a palm stamped against a blue sky

*

Lynne Rees
an open field

Monday, 17 November 2008

The dogs sleep sprawled across the hall like scattered stones--place markers for where I've been and where I'm going.

*

Sage Cohen
Sage A Vu

Sunday, 16 November 2008

Saturday, 15 November 2008

Birds flock to the trees in my yard, and I have nothing to say to them.

*

Dana Guthrie Martin
my gorgeous somewhere

Friday, 14 November 2008

Thursday, 13 November 2008

Spiteful

Sophie arrived, heavily pregnant. Rose and I hadn't known.

*

Martin Reed
worded

Wednesday, 12 November 2008

The sound of a moth, clattering battering bludgeoning itself against the midnight streetlamp.

*

Andy Fryer
A Half-Remembered Life

Tuesday, 11 November 2008

Monday, 10 November 2008

The evening breeze pebbles my skin as the blackbird sings her lullaby.

*

Marie Fullerton

Sunday, 9 November 2008

Saturday, 8 November 2008

A huge fly climbs up the window, falls and begins climbing again.

*

Clare Grant
Three Beautiful Things

Friday, 7 November 2008

Sunshine through raindrops
in the early morning light
remind me of home.

*

Rachel Green
When The Dogs Bite

Thursday, 6 November 2008

Early evening revelation

The mirror throws a shaft of sunlight into the dark corner of the room, lighting up the jar of water and sable brushes like a lantern.

*

John Loader

Wednesday, 5 November 2008

Tuesday, 4 November 2008

Old gypsy caravan, hemmed in by degrading concrete and rusting metal, your brightly coloured paint the only joy in your surroundings.

*

David Penhallow

Monday, 3 November 2008

Sunday, 2 November 2008

Saturday, 1 November 2008

Sunrise: The moon's still up, that party girl, exuberant streamers floating reluctantly to earth; morning painting the tree trunks.

*

Elizabeth Westmark
Switched at Birth

Friday, 31 October 2008

From a bridge, the inverted vanitas
Of a swan drifting down a black canal
Between two corrugated warehouses

*

Frances Leviston
(from the poem 'Industrial', with kind permission)
Frances Leviston

Thursday, 30 October 2008

She reached out again, one last time, to touch his heart through words. Her words found and touched the broken hearts of others, but not his.

*

Julie Alston

Wednesday, 29 October 2008

Soft rain on a Friday night -
People wear their loneliness like a shield.

*

Odessa
freefalling me

Tuesday, 28 October 2008

1
voices from around the fields
and the ticking sound of olives hitting ladders

2
black olives in yellow boxes
the little red robin is angry

3
the olive tree looking larger in the moonlight
- little blue owl

*

Kirsten Nørgaard
Stensamler (stone collector)

Monday, 27 October 2008

one small striped flip-flop rests on the curb

*

Barbara Hollace

Sunday, 26 October 2008

stop lights and tail lights make red satin stripes slither over rain slick asphalt

*

Charlotte Babb
Miss Charlotte's Babblings

Saturday, 25 October 2008

The warmth of your body against mine on cool white crisp cotton sheets, the early saturday morning breeze lifting the curtains as we doze to the birds singing outside.

*

Jo Cooper
Reason, Season or Lifetime

Friday, 24 October 2008

Skinny-arsed bee on a rainy morning, disappointed at each stop – leaf, thistle, thorn.

*

A. F. Harrold
A. F. Harrold

Thursday, 23 October 2008

Waiting for the ferry, we watched the rain pocked water. A sudden otter's head. The slide of its back. The flick of a tail. Again the head. The sound of the ferry approaching.

*

Juliet Wilson
Crafty Green Poet

Wednesday, 22 October 2008

Autumn

Our house is turning russet red and gold.
Engulfed.
Virgina creeping ever onwards and upwards.

*

Claire Arnold-Baker

Tuesday, 21 October 2008

a tunnel of powerlines and sparkling colors nestles in cloudy darkness

*

Will Collum

Sunday, 19 October 2008

Car wash

Rumbling ghost train tunnel of blue feathers

*

Matt Westwood

Saturday, 18 October 2008

The squeak of chamois on glass - the coaltits are chatting in the garden again.

*

Marysia Wojtaszek

Friday, 17 October 2008

And so the season has arrived. The sun shines thinly at autumn’s strength. The soft wind bites – just a little. The water moves gently, waves lapping in practised rhythm.

*

Kristina Meredith
The Apprentice Writer

Thursday, 16 October 2008

Miscarriage of justice

The coppery smell of blood hung in the air within the narrow, blighted birth-chamber. "Not salvageable," was my father's judgement carelessly declared over the dying body of his youngest wife--some thirty years his junior--on the occasion of my emergence into this world of pain.

*

S R Schwarz
cosmic rapture

Wednesday, 15 October 2008

Why don’t I send you my poems?
Because I don’t want to read yours.

*

Martial: Epigrams
Translated by Ian House

Tuesday, 14 October 2008

Sunday, 12 October 2008

A full bodied garden spider, sat surrounded by crystal droplets of autumn dew which sparkle in the hazy morning sun.

*

Jo Cooper
Reason, Season or Lifetime

Saturday, 11 October 2008

I hold my hands to light as if light could help me understand my hands.

*

Dana Guthrie Martin
my gorgeous somewhere

Friday, 10 October 2008

Thursday, 9 October 2008

a black and grey pig wearing a tartan ribbon is walking down the hill towards Antibes town centre, behind a woman who looks surprisingly like her

*

Lynne Rees
an open field

Tuesday, 7 October 2008

Azure skies washed with
a splash of Payne's favourite -
Pierrot's painted face.

*

Rachel Green
When The Dogs Bite

Monday, 6 October 2008

first frost warning
tomatoes still green...

*

Merrill Ann Gonzales

Sunday, 5 October 2008

After two days of antibiotics the lame Indian Runner duck suddenly finds her feet again and she falls into line happily keeping pace behind the drake.

*

Caroline M. Davies
Advancing Poetry

Saturday, 4 October 2008

They all take turns pinching the Space Needle in their tourist photos.

*

Paul E. Nelson
American Sentences

Friday, 3 October 2008

As the Atlantic Ocean roars into view,
white-topped breakers lap at a small shoe; ripples of giggles as
he digs deep, scooping up the sand,
fills his bucket; pats it down with chubby hands,

builds a castle
for the sea to wash away.

*

Anna Reiers
My Writing Life

Thursday, 2 October 2008

memories of people smiling at the deep lake spin faster and faster away from the lions and cheetahs who watched them drink from the other side

*

Aja Bella Cimino-Hurt

Wednesday, 1 October 2008

In my dream a plaza opens out to meet a dark horizon, where the head of a man spins, his face contorted. He has short ginger hair and jowls. He yells, "Come on, take the acid. Take the acid, come on. Come on, take the," A one-note diatribe. Why is he goading me? I wake up singing, "come on baby light my fire," a mantra in my mind.

*

Christine Swint

Tuesday, 30 September 2008

The last tiger swallowtail sips the geranium in the sun of the last September Saturday

*

Charlotte Babb
Miss Charlotte's Babblings

Monday, 29 September 2008

naked in the boat
waiting for the sun between
two big clouds

*

Monika Thoma-Petit

Sunday, 28 September 2008

Waist high in the grassy field, three deer lift their heads as the train passes. Five minutes down the line, another deer runs alongside the train.

*

Juliet Wilson
Crafty Green Poet

Friday, 26 September 2008

Coffee Grounds

If I were to hold my heart in your kitchen, with its pink curtains and chartreuse stove and plastic burners glowing supernatural orange, I'd fire up the griddle and open freezer doors. Streaming hot milk, I would call you on the backline, I'd use the number I'd found as the train lurched by, in my favorite blue journal I'd sketch with my favorite black pencil. There I would copy - I'm only a scribe decorating sacred text - the code messaged on a billboard selling milk from happy, only happy black and white cows. It was you to me, streaming time.

*

Deb Scott
Stoney Moss

Thursday, 25 September 2008

Suddenly it's a goose-bump day, a cover-up-your-skin day

*

Barbara F. Ray

Wednesday, 24 September 2008

Tuesday, 23 September 2008

Saturday night at the Ritz, we watch them swing through smokedrifts. Spun out, girls come back like cyclones.

*

Jo Hemmant
florescence

Monday, 22 September 2008

Human history is only 100 lifetimes old.

*

Matt Westwood

Sunday, 21 September 2008

the balcony is littered with torn leaves and a white blanket of hail

*

Barbara Hollace

Saturday, 20 September 2008

Chipmunks playing chase on the roof make me wonder why I am always sitting at my computer instead of enjoying the sun outside.

*

Tamara Staples
Desire to Heal

Friday, 19 September 2008

Tall sleek trunks finger a silky morning sky, catching first light in green baskets rimming July's horizon. The forest breath rises and falls in cicada song.

*

rm mist
What The Muses Leave Behind

Thursday, 18 September 2008

Richard Anthony Bacon – 20.10.29 - 16.07.08

Om mane pame hum whispered into his ear, his fingers move within mine...

His eye is open...what does he see?

Waxen skin. My dad is not there. Now I understand the separateness of body and mind.

Kate Bacon
Pier to Peer

Wednesday, 17 September 2008

welcome, Theo

Through the cinched halo of my pelvis, this earthbound angel descends.

*

Sage Cohen
Sage A Vu

Tuesday, 16 September 2008

Five minutes before midnight, a gnat attracted to the reflected light of my computer monitor dives into my eye.

*

Dave Bonta
Via Negativa

Monday, 15 September 2008

This Lilly is a long-boned woman with legs like skewers and empty breasts lying on the furrows of ribs. Her smile comes from an old heart, strong beyond reason. She smiles at laughing visitors who kiss, kiss, kiss, planting babies in her lap and presents on the bed. She tells them that she’s had lunch, but the menu escapes her; food appears like magic - chicken is fish, porridge is soup and everything is beautiful.

*

Irene Cunningham
Runaway Granny

Sunday, 14 September 2008

Walking walking all day seems neverending, aching, only to drive out and see the views of mountains and sea and feel whole again.

*

Nalini Harvey

Saturday, 13 September 2008

Crow croaking in the rain – top branch – each croak thrown out like a seal bobbing for fish – the same movement of head and neck and body.

*

A. F. Harrold
A. F. Harrold

Friday, 12 September 2008

Guilt, responsibility, fear, self-doubt, remorse, stress, anger, exhaustion, sadness, grief, frustration, anxiety, lack of knowledge. Those were the rocks in my wheelbarrow. And then came one more: “He’d get better faster at home".

*

Jeanne Waite Follett
Gullible's Travels

Thursday, 11 September 2008

Wednesday, 10 September 2008

Tuesday, 9 September 2008

Footprints on the old tarmac stepped over a volcano errupting a golden dandelion.

*

Marie Fullerton

Monday, 8 September 2008

Through the blind's horizontals and scaffolding verticals, the roofers flicker as they climb to work.

*

Clare Grant
Three Beautiful Things

Sunday, 7 September 2008

Warm morning sunlight
on summer-hopeful shoulders.
Daisy freckled lawns.

*

Rachel Green
When The Dogs Bite

Saturday, 6 September 2008

Engulfed in husband's waterproofs, I brave the rain - for goodbye kisses.

*

Anna Reiers
My Writing Life

Friday, 5 September 2008

Summer morning in the Peak; tiny horses gathered in dozens in the windy fields.

*

Jo Bell
Bell Jar

Thursday, 4 September 2008

Honest. Tasty. Real. Chewing the words outside the Dorset cereal packet, I find more nourishment inside.

*

Kate Burton
www.kateburton.co.uk

Wednesday, 3 September 2008

The beach from a condo balcony: occasional glimpses of steel gray waves through vanilla buildings in a sea of concrete, punctuated by the dark green poodle heads of palm trees.

*

Elizabeth Westmark
Switched at Birth

Tuesday, 2 September 2008

the wind moving through the dried grasses...nature's snare drums

*

Janet Smith
Mid-Life Clarity

Monday, 1 September 2008

the electrician tells me that the cigales start singing once the temperature reaches 30 degrees, and today they do, and stop, in an instant, as a cool breeze rushes over me and through the trees

*

Lynne Rees
an open field

Sunday, 31 August 2008

Beijing to Henley

Out of a black sock from the jogger's pocket swung the red ribboned silver medallion, inset with jade.

*

John Loader