Category Archives: Cloud

lady of Avalon

NaPoWriMo 2021 Button with white background
NaPoWriMo 2021 Button with black background


i dream i’m drowning

it’s an old one

but it no longer owns me

now i’ve come home to avalon


thoughts of rain awake me

the lady comes again for me

from across the levels blurred in

a banging of silver bangles

a breathing womb of grass and apples

a trembling of limbs still stuck in the suck

of muck-moist land that’s been drained for ages

until it rains; and it rains


she is ages older than me, yet young

she speaks an older tongue, voice

fizzy with dialects of scrumpy cider and musky crusts of ancient cheddar

echoes dance from dank chalk caves

wassail wassail wassail

and so it was

and so it is


i dream her lovely face

etched upon a sorrow of cloud

heavy as half a pound of moonlight

light as a fragrance of lemoncakes

i dream her silken garments

and steely armaments

reflected in the ancient lakes of this summer land

do you see me, she rasps

swirling me in underwater loves

she drags me to her breast where i rest

kisses the stone of my bones

unheeding of the summons of Merlin

defiantly ungifting trinkets to the kings

the legend of the lady

awaits a feminist twist

shhhh, she whispers, coming

and i dream myself asleep


not a haiku



I moved the the isle of ancient avalon last year. Do you know where that is? Quite simply, Somerset in the West Country of the UK, near Glastonbury. I felt a pull to come here and so here am i. Still dreaming…

NaPoWriMo day 25

prompt is based on the aisling, a poetic form that developed in Ireland. An aisling recounts a dream or vision featuring a woman who represents the land or country on/in which the poet lives, and who speaks to the poet about it. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that recounts a dream or vision, and in which a woman appears who represents or reflects the area in which you live. Perhaps she will be the Madonna of the Traffic Lights, or the Mysterious Spirit of Bus Stops. Or maybe you will be addressed by the Lost Lady of the Stony Coves. Whatever form your dream-visitor takes, happy writing!

Swear to god, it’s good

napowrimo day 28


What is the point of this pointy strifey life, eh?

What if is isn’t, eh?

Isn’t what?

Pointy or pointless?

I’m lost, hen!

What if is ain’t pointy, anointy, but swervy and curvy, chick?

Would you think that is cute, brutus?

What is cute, anyway?

Wait! What do you want?

Can we be just us? Be ourselves and yell when we want? Or must we be most oft quiet?

Should I wait?

Will there be some semblance of answer?

How does one stop the dribblesome questions?

How many stops are enough before stop stops up, luv?

How many spots before spots become just one long spot?

Who are you, ducky? Have a thinky. Or not…..

Are you one or two? Or more? Are you polka-dotted or cockily confident?

Can you hear me from up there on your cloud? Should we speak louder?

Wait! Don’t



btw april 28 2021


no way this is haiku!



Our prompt today (optional, as always), is to write a poem that poses a series of questions. The questions could be a mix of the serious (“What is the meaning of life?”) and humorous (“What’s the deal with cats knocking things off tables?”), the interruptive (“Could you repeat that?”) and the conversational (“Are those peanuts? Can I have some?”). You can choose to answer them – or just let the questions keep building up, creating a poem that asks the reader to come up with their own answer(s).

how cool is this!


NaPoWriMo day 4


up to my feet

higher than ever

ever was

my knees awash with blush

blue as the sun

come to kiss



unpredictable dangle, my hips

swung undone, clicking in places, ungripped

angles untongued, unhorizoned, unzipped

come to pass


and over


where i was


heels over head

like a wheel

bums up, pants down

what a feeling!

i’m not burning. i promise

i’m adonis!


warming my jets

upended by toes

detached from all that ever

ever was

i’m not falling. i promise

i’m gaia! i’m higher


i’m fearless, trawling stars

a mess, a tangle of hair, a thicket of air

sketching nothing nothing that

ever was


i’m not flying. i’m goddess

i promise. look !

no hands! no stands!

imagine this!



Adonis : God of beauty, fertility , permanent renewal. Greek mythology.

Gaia: Personification of the Earth. Greek mythology.



In honor of the always-becoming nature of poetry, I challenge you today to select a photograph from the perpetually disconcerting @SpaceLiminalBot, and write a poem inspired by one of these odd, in-transition spaces. Will you pick the empty mall food court? The vending machine near the back entrance to the high school gym? The swimming pool at what seems to be M.C. Escher’s alpine retreat? No matter what neglected or eerie space you choose, I hope its oddness tugs at the place in your mind and heart where poems are made.