Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017: #10

Micropoetry MonthFirst of all, I thank all of you who shared poems yesterday on the topic of Domestic abuse. Important, visceral, chilling poems from around the world. I hope it helps those in need to know that other voices stand with them.

Try some free verse today, keeping it down to whatever size you think is appropriate for “micropoetry”. Share through the comments section or Mister Linky.

The New Normal

alliterative mornings,
the same brittle consonants crunch
between the yellow teeth of dawn,
you tell me the sameness is comforting
like housebroken emotions,
over and over until you can
barely separate the pain from
the hum of the radio.
I eye the solitary cloud,
no, yesterday too it was
a nondescript blur.


Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017: #9

Micropoetry MonthKim M Russell, who blogs at ‘Writing in North Norfolk’, wrote a powerful poem a couple of days ago about the horror of domestic abuse. A chilling, wonderfully written poem, wrapped in a fairy tale, that you can read here.

I ask you to add your voice to hers. Find words and lines and verses against all kinds of domestic abuse, words that together will become a roar. Use any form, any structure, just write your poems. Share using the comments section or Mister Linky.

I chose to write Septolets. (A septolet has seven lines containing a total of fourteen words in two parts. Both parts deal with the same thought and create a cohesive picture.)


Red tally marks
the kitchen cupboard,

every time
her husband
hit her.


Dawn prayer-
bruises covered
with her saree,

her shame
from the
sleeping gods.

bearing balance
and sword,

slash your darkness,
tip the scales
it’s time.


Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017: #8

Micropoetry MonthThe last time I tried my version of Wallace Stevens’ “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird” I called it “ Thirteen Ways of Looking in the Mirror” . Think I need to change my perspective!

Try your own set of thirteen (or three or ten) or share any other form of micropoetry using comments or Mister Linky! Here’s mine.

Thirteen Ways of Looking at Myself


my silence
is the space
I concede to you,


as a fragment of a fragment
of a fragment…
should I worry
that I am incomplete


whatever you see
when you see me,
know that inside
I am polished mirror


my anger has a way
of finding hidden words
while pain sits in the dark
reading someone else’s poems


what I know about love
I learnt from the river
that polishes one stone
into a glowing pebble
and lets another survive


I was once a chinar leaf
that fell, sunset soaked,
to the rhythm
of fading footsteps…
matter to matter


the space I occupy
is the space that separates earth from sky
like an unkindness


I am a grieving
widow, ashen draped,
mourning a rain
that never fell


this I know-
my shadow also believes
I am just a trick
of the morning light


I make lists on parchment
of things the world won’t give me-
in return for things
I won’t give the world


does rough wool
want to be fine muslin?
does my swirling mind
want to be Rumi’s song?


louder than any
silence I know
is the whisper of stones
in an abandoned temple


perpetrator and victim,
I judge myself
from the sidelines



Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017: #7

Micropoetry MonthTime for a Tanka, don’t you think. Always a massive challenge to get right, a tanka can be crafted in so many ways but I believe it works better if it says much more than the five lines allow and says it with subtlety, emotion and mindfulness.

Write your own tanka or any other kind of micropoetry and share it through comments or Mister Linky.

this monsoon sky
heaves inside my heart-
how can I hear his footsteps
in the pounding rain

This tanka takes me back to a poetweet (exactly 140 characters long including spaces and punctuation) I wrote almost three years ago:

A mango tree
outside my window
has broken into song.
Hush, I warn,
gather your boughs,
rein in your leaves,
tonight he may whisper his love.


Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017: #6

Micropoetry MonthThree years ago I started writing Poetweets mainly because I wanted to tweet my poems. The name has been used before and afterwards to mean many things but to me poetweets were just 140 character long poems (including spaces and punctuation).

Seems like a good time to resurrect the form. Try a poetweet or any other form of micropoetry and share it via comments or Mister Linky.


who will come out
to defend this sun?

we who like the moon
for its folly
of transience?

how else
can we hope for love
on the darkest nights?


driving home
from the graveyard,
on roads that knew her
better than I did,
that let her find her own path,
that stayed,

unlike her daughter.


takes another step
artificial intelligence,
the better human is a machine,

the perfect cat
and crow have already
been made.


Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017: #5

Micropoetry MonthI’ve only attempted one Fibonacci poem before and that time I went up to 21 syllables (8 lines). This time the muse was more generous: 10 lines with 55 syllables on the last line! Is it still micropoetry?

Give it a shot anyway! The number of syllables in each line follows the Fibonacci sequence  (0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55…)!

Bring your own micropoem to the party – any form, no form, whatever inspires you today! Use the comments form or Mister Linky to share!



life just

birthed itself

let’s just say we are

part amoeba, part fish, part ape,

even part question wilting in the rain, still waiting

for the melding of machine and man that will explain what there was before gravity,

what happens when we stare at oceans and skies, why certain words know how to bind themselves into poems, why love is more difficult than hate,

lets say this as we argue over colour of skin, as we craft an apocalypse, as if that matters more than moonlight streaming into our eyes, unobserved, part gill, part opposable thumb, part petal, part sun, part answer.


Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017: #1

Micropoetry Month I’m kicking off the Nov 2017-Micropoetry Month with a couple of modern haiku/senryu. If the poems or the theme or just the idea of micropoetry inspires you, then do join in by sharing your poems in the comment section or adding a link to your poem using the Mister Linky widget. Or just drop in, read and say hello!


dark monsoon night-
a drunken moon
slips on the balcony tiles


first light,
in my bed a sleeping moon
and an empty bottle of wine