writinginnorthnorfolk

[writinginnorthnorfolk]

Unbroken

We have our moments, you and I,when we walkon eggshells, sometimes onan expanse of ice.We deal with it,masked with grimaces,a moment fragile as porcelain, and thenit cracks and breaks.I confess to allmy sins, and myfaux pas and silly mistakes.There we are,two sinners un-frozen,and then, inshimmering light, themoon’s magnetism pulls us together, tightin an unbroken lock,cementing the embrace…

[writinginnorthnorfolk]

Summer

I remember the summers of my childhood, when we didn’t feel the heat and ran about outside without a care. The only thing we worried about was being called in for tea. Nowadays, I am not a lover of hot weather, and find myself longing for autumn in the middle of a hot spell. I find refuge in the leafy shade of our garden, which is generally lush and green, but some plants suffer in the heat. I…

[writinginnorthnorfolk]

The Poet Blames her Pen

Mind a cauldron of chaos,doggerel has made me vomit,it’s bitter and thick on my tongue.Some words give me indigestion. But I love the fruity fragranceof words that saturate my brainlike a sunny day. I see them falling into aerobatics,like flocks of birds delighting in the sky,clapping their wings in applauseas they descend into stanzas,oscillating until they are satisfied. The distant…

[writinginnorthnorfolk]

Second Sight

The future was honest, once. A watcher of the skies,I view my wasting skin. Vision may be a part of sight’sdazzling when a new planet swims into view. I close my eyes, the universe is less bright,faked by sleeping’s second sight. Kim M. Russell, 16th June 2025 Image by Becca Schultz on Unsplash I’m hosting the Quadrille at the dVerse Poets Pub today, where we are writing poems of exactly 44…

[writinginnorthnorfolk]

Heavy Metal Heart

Metal heartDark down-tuned vibrationsReach to the very depths of my soul EchoingThrough the deepest cavernsSeeping salty into sea and soil I’m earthyWith your cross-leaved summer heathThick with cotton grass and sphagnum moss My blood singsFlooding all the sensesWith the beat of your heavy metal Kim M. Russell, 12th June 2025 Image by Jackie L on Unsplash This Thursday at the dVerse Poets…

[writinginnorthnorfolk]

Over

My birthday bouquet, overa week old and wiltingin a shapely vaseof glass half-filledwith scummy water glintingin the sun.Flowers raise their headsin a last hurrahof purple and pale yellow,their brown-tinged leaves hangingover the lip of the vase–over like the birthday.Kim M. Russell, 11th June 2025 Over at What’s Going On? Susan is hosting with a birthday prompt. Happy birthday, Susan! She has…

[writinginnorthnorfolk]

Leaning on the gate at the bottom of the garden

framed by leaves,I watch dragonflies rise from the water, where boats bob,chinking their moorings, percussion to the song of the gentle breezeweaving through trees. A distant lawnmower chugs and splutterswith the harmonising engine of a passing boat, the drifting scent of barbecuesand something frying at the local pub. No humans mar the solitude.No voices shatter the peace. Just a pair of…

[writinginnorthnorfolk]

Moonlight Robbery

The gnomes had escaped again and it was mayhem in the moonlit garden centre. People just don’t realise that they can go on the rampage at any time, and customers tend to encourage them with cute comments like “I’d love to take that little guy home but there’s no room in the garden for any more ornaments!” Ornaments! Enough to make a gnome rampage. The urge to make a break for it had built up all…

[writinginnorthnorfolk]

Bathers

When they emergefrom the water in their soggybathing costumes,their bodiesare like the landscape: dunes and waves, grit and pearls,sand and pebbles, seaside girlsin a rainbow of hues,reds, purples pinks and blues,shivering in the breeze. The lighthouse calls from granite rocks,a chalk stick tall and white,and they sing that songto a summer sky: “I wanna marry a lighthouse keeperAnd keep him…

[writinginnorthnorfolk]

A Peek over the Horizon

It’s five o’clock:a patch of sky unfolds hueslike Italian paper,marbled mauves and blues. Peeking over the horizon,a new dawn breaks;by sunrise,the wrinkled ocean wakes,stifles a yawn, wraps the beach in waves and sky:Nature’s early morning surprise. Kim M. Russell, 2nd June 2025 Image by Sebastien Gabriel on Unsplash Monday has come round again with the quadrille at dVerse, the virtual pub…

[writinginnorthnorfolk]

This is the Time of Ghosts

Through lingering shadows of the past,times of struggle, revolution and dissent,they anchor themselves deep and fastto an increasingly unsettled present. Helplessly, they wait in public places,hotels, malls, and libraries where,helpfully, a librarian ghost traceshaiku as he escorts you to a chair. Eerily, they haunt crannies and nooks,entering museums and classrooms,easing themselves into pages…

[writinginnorthnorfolk]

It is the music of a people

(a golden shovel) Can you hear itfilling the air today? The melody isa memory of what we once were and thebeating of wings and rushing of air is musicwe feel in our hearts and souls. Words ofdespair are replaced with agrowing defiance: power to the people. Kim M. Russell, 28th May 2025 Image by Federico Scarionati on Unsplash Wednesday’s come around again, and at What’s Going On? Mary has…

[writinginnorthnorfolk]

Solitude’s Promontory

A found poem uncovered in ‘The Art of Solitude: Buddhist Scholar and Teacher Stephen Batchelor on Contemplative Practice and Creativity’from Maria Popova’s The Marginalian Solitude is an art –we must learn to wait in acceptanceof a moment,          of a piece of music,                    the polyphony of birds,                              the patter of rain.Alonebefore a sheet of paperor a…

[writinginnorthnorfolk]

Memento Mori

When I lived in Cologne in Germany, my best friends were Ellen, after whom my daughter is named, and Ulli, her partner. Ulli was a real character, Germanic looking, with very long blond hair and piercing blue eyes, and he had a wicked sense of humour. Ulli loved motor bikes, of which he had three, his favourites being BMW, Triumph and Norton, as well as a garage full of parts. He was always in…

[writinginnorthnorfolk]

Tree Moon Fox

Chilled to their inner ringsthey wait for spring,     intimate winter trees, their     unadorned birches, bare,skeletal white trunks shining, chilledfrom icy winds and frost-rilled. Under cover of night,there is white     noise, rustle of leaves     and distant hum of tyre on tarmac.Overhead the sky sparkles, incandescentwith a multitude of stars, distantand countless. Lying on her back, the…

[writinginnorthnorfolk]

Puckered

The moon’s puckered upfor a strange kiss; her gut’s a quiet riot of butterflies,full of uncertain promise. Now the rumpus of spring is overand blossom-pink has turned to sad-brown, the moon and I are waitingfor an explosion of summer flowers. Kim M. Russell, 19th May 2025 Image by Elly M on Unsplash Today, at the dVerse Poets Pub, I’m hosting the Monday Quadrille, when we take any meaning…

[writinginnorthnorfolk]

Cupcake

Kim M. Russell, 15th May 2025 We’re meeting the bar with Björn at the dVerse Poets Pub today, and having a bit of fun with the shapes of poems on the page, something I have done before for a number of prompts. He tells us that concrete poetry “emerged from the major hubs of Concrete Art in Northern Europe and Latin America during the 1950s and sought to bring the same clarity and simplicity of…