Category Archives: Fruit

defiant chill in the air

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summer’s here, not gone, you insist

it’s beauty emptying and fermenting

tempting trees to bare their teeth and throw down arms

though barely September, winds whinge and whine

querulous as a passels of squirrels rustling and thieving stashes of nuts

but autumn comes in hobbling like two old biddies in dirtied petticoats —mouths

prattling, puckered as a skinny cow’s arse and just as fetidly malted

shocking as the hot stench of wolves on the cooled nostrils on a fist of horses

shivering, prickling as a torment of digits in agony on the return of blood as tips thaw out

summer’s not gone… you insist, hunkered into your nest of jewels and tattered letters —

like a tiny brown shrew nibbling whortleberries that stain like gossiped loot —

the colours, taste and scent that lasts well past memory, dribbled and inked in wines

behind preserving glasses- solitarily grasping at remnants of loves and leaves almost gone

to seeds, pulling heads in for a duration you shall not mention or admit —

except in the writing of this

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not a haiku

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p.s A whortleberry is a forest-foraged berry, also known as a bilberry or huckleberry. Traditionally, after a harvest of them was sent to the kitchens of London and other important towns, ( from Porlock and its environs ) remnants were sent to be used in the dying of airmen’s uniforms. (So i’m informed)

https://www.napowrimo.net

Napowrimo day 26.-

A couple of days ago, we played around with hard-boiled similes. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that contains at least one of a different kind of simile – an epic simile. Also known as Homeric similes, these are basically extended similes that develop over multiple lines. Perhaps unsurprisingly, they have mainly been used in epic poems, typically as decorative elements that emphasize the dramatic nature of the subject (see, by way of illustration, this example from Milton’s Paradise Lost). But you could write a complete poem that is just one lengthy, epic simile, relying on the surprising comparison of unlike things to carry the poem across. And if you’re feeling especially cheeky, you could even write a poem in which the epic simile spends lines heroically and dramatically describing something that turns out to be quite prosaic. Whatever you decide to compare, I hope you have fun extending your simile(s) to epic lengths.

pan out

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picture this

bottom of a kitchen garden

unruly patch, a willow hatch

yellowberries, cherries, teasels, thistles

radishes and chive flowers lined up messily

close up in the lush long grass

intro music

a fresh-freckled nose pressed close to the damp dust and rooted shoots

pan out

 a little girl in a short summer’s dress

flat out on her tummy, legs lolling, humming softly

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she’s busily tucking happy daisies, pansies and violet bells

in and around the loot, snagging pebbles and twigs in the mix

betwixt secret vibrating riggings, a spiralled ring begins to zing

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scene blurs a bit

you may have to squint 

to see it

a glint of wing

that spins and turns

into a tiny faerie thing

that lands on the girls’ thumb

spritely music begins

our little girl grins

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pan out

another child strides out from a distant house

dumps a school bag as she crosses the lawn, frowns

as she reaches our peace-filled scene, she willfully

stamps

on the circle and thunder’s felt

she shouts out

‘ as your sister, i know better

i shan’t let you get caught up in this nonsense, ever after

FAERIES DON’T EXIST, you twit !’ 

she shouts it thrice

something melts

perhaps it’s wonderment

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spell is broke, peace was there but

magic ceases in that spoken moment

faerie-play snaps out of woken memory

faerie-blinks out like dew-dropped reverie

focus in

the creased face of the older sister

and the small girl’s curled in a ball in the iris of her pupil

tight in a ball of older-sister certainty she-who’s

violently opposed to such wicked-wildness

her magic already bound and tamed

in a flash

                        she forgets

                                            she forgets

                                                                god exits

fade to blacks

                                 pan out

pan out

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not a haiku

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NaPoWriMo prompt, day 14

write a poem that takes the form of the opening scene of the movie of your life

https://www.napowrimo.net

distance

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‘you’ve spoiled the way the tree hangs’, he muttered in passing, the man i’d watched from across the orchard with admiration, imagining some future passion. His torso glowed in the low summer sun. Sweat over taunt muscles, golden fuzz glued, caught in highlights, his face averted, his shorts short and tight.

When he approached me, i’d gasped at the intense scent rising from his body, that eclipsed the perfume of the apples dangling from the branches and fermenting in the grass. I’d felt quite dizzy from it, perched as i was, dangerously high on my ladder.

‘is that a fact?’ i’d offered to his back.

A beautiful, rippling study of manly motion and determination, he attacked the tree next to me with his secateurs. ‘yep’ he said, under his breath, ‘get some perspective’.

i climbed down from the ladder, took a few steps away and surveyed my own tree, glistening with rosy fruit, littered with severed branches and foliage, listing slightly.

He’d made no bones of it. I laughed. He was probably right.

In this tender light, this splendid afternoon spoiled, i removed my ladder to a further tree and began again.

i left my thoughts hanging

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not a haiku

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The prompt is based on Robert Hass’s remarkable prose poem, “A Story About the Body.” The idea is to write your own prose poem that, whatever title you choose to give it, is a story about the body. The poem should contain an encounter between two people, some spoken language, and at least one crisp visual image.