Day 14 — love in a time of corona

14 EKG-Heart

Reading An Anthology of Imagist Poetry today & Richard Adlington has several poems which are entitled “Images” … & are little snippets of love poems. So, trying to flip the idea of a love poem on its head I’ve written one to Coronavirus using Adlington’s layout & structure.


a series of small love songs to Coronavirus


you repeatedly overheat
me — a wheat bag
left too long in an oven


so nervous near you
can only cough words
— instead of speak bona fides


my throat throbs
— gulps wonder as i
gaze on your venom


utter exhaustion
— fatigue that turns itself
on & off in every cell


my chest tightens
doing the simplest tasks
— smiling, whispering your name 


every thought of you
makes my head ache
— conduit of weird electronic surges


now all smell & taste
are gone — i gobble raw
ginger like candy

Day 08 – poem about gifts


Arrrggghhh! Can’t seem to shake this subject. Despite several poems worked on today, the two I was considering for today’s post somehow didn’t seem to stack up, so had to go for this fallback. New subject matter tomorrow, I promise (I hope).

the gifts of the luni

every night the moon leaves me gifts
like a cat depositing nightkill on my mat

this week on the wall by the back door
a rectangular jewel box, waiting to be buried

above the kitchen blind, a sliver of laser light
as i stumble out for an insomniacal glass

repainting the window in my bedroom
into a mirror which reflects undreamt dreams

on the drive home it rezones the countryside
into a dimension far beyond the fourth

even its gilding of the boxangular city
until it is almost beautiful enough

to star in its own fairy tale

Day 12 – The Art of the Tale

I have been reading a few  fairy tales most recently Scandinavian ones from East of the Sun and West of the Moon: Old Tales from the North (1914). This edition is gloriously illustrated by Kay Nielsen.

Today’s poem is breaking more than one of my self-imposed ‘rules’ – 1) it is not a cover image & 2) more than one illustration has inspired it. But given the rules are mine, I figure I can change em as I see fit.

fairy tale

she is the girl who understands
what the birds say when they sing
& if she has bad dreams, pretty birds
snatch them from her & fly away

she is the girl who can move
the moon with her eyes alone
& if her soul feels empty
stars come in close to comfort

she is the girl who dances with fairies
under leaves of endless autumn
& if her true love ever breaks her heart
they will torment him till his grave

she is the girl i loved & lost
once upon a time, long long ago


NOTE: image is a detail of she could not help setting the door a little ajar, just to peep in, when — Pop! out flew the Moon (pg 67) from East of the Sun and West of the Moon illustrated by Kay Nielsen (1914)