Tag: Poetry

Spidered and Still | Haiku

We’re ice-bound in Scotland at the moment – some appropriate haikus as follows…

Frost patterns on glass

Spidered

Spidered creep across

Night-chilled glass, untouched by the

Hill-hidden sunlight.

Red bird on a feeder in winter

Still

Frozen and fat balls and

Frost-fingered nyger, hanging

Still, in the chill air.

*Thanks for reading, folks. Images courtesy of Marco Verch and Chiot’s Run. My recent short stories include ‘Night Out‘ and ‘Plausible Deniability‘.

Matthew Richardson is a writer of short stories. His work has featured in Gold Dust magazine, Literally Stories, Close to the Bone, McStorytellers, Penny Shorts, Soft Cartel, Whatever Keeps the Lights On, Flashback Fiction, Cafelit, Best MicroFiction 2021, Writer’s Egg, Idle Ink, The Wild Word, and Shooter magazine. He is a doctoral student at the University of Dundee, a lucky husband, and a proud father. He blogs at www.matthewjrichardson.com.

Steadfast and Slate | Haiku

Happy New Year folks,

A couple of bracing haiku for early January…

A dry stone wall

Steadfast

Wind-worn coping stones,

Stacked batters, wedged pinnings and

Steadfast throughstones. Still.

Long-stemmed grass, covered with ice

Slate

Crisp, frosted fronds,

Pure amidst the rutted tracks,

Beneath the slate skies.

*Thanks for reading, folks. Images courtesy of Michael Manning and Creativity103.com. My recent short stories include ‘Night Out‘ and ‘PLANET 4662/1183J/983!/11C‘.

Matthew Richardson is a writer of short stories. His work has featured in Gold Dust magazine, Literally Stories, Close to the Bone, McStorytellers, Penny Shorts, Soft Cartel, Whatever Keeps the Lights On, Flashback Fiction, Cafelit, Best MicroFiction 2021, Writer’s Egg, Idle Ink, The Wild Word, and Shooter magazine. He is a doctoral student at the University of Dundee, a lucky husband, and a proud father. He blogs at www.matthewjrichardson.com.

Loch Ness Monster, Stamped Long | Poetry

Loch Ness Monster, stamped long

Across a once-round coin.

A penny,

Pressed into nothing,

Into something more than money.

What route to the heavy, glass-bound rollers?

Which grasping hands, dark pockets, upholstery crevices before

Arriving iron-smelling, earth-born, newly pressed again?

How many through my own fingers

From museums and galleries,

Raucous funfairs and till-chimed gift shops?

Lost, slipped behind dust-bound bookshelves

Or down churning gutters beneath rumbling, work-bound feet.

That fate perhaps,

But for now a clammy, toddler’s hand

An o-shaped mouth,

A treasure, gleaming gold.

Continue reading “Loch Ness Monster, Stamped Long | Poetry” →

Creep and Curl | Haiku

Morning folks,

It’s been wild, wet, and windy here in Scotland, where Autumn has made itself known this week. Hopefully these are a couple of haiku to speak to this…

Creep

Breached riverbanks. Creep

Of foam-swirled menace towards

Sandbag-stacked doorframes.

Curl

Weather turning. An

Edged wind, the first curling of

Leaves once lush, once lithe.

*Thanks for reading, folks. Images courtesy of Ian S and Pixabay. My recent short stories include ‘Little Daily Miracles‘ and ‘Those Abroad‘.

Matthew Richardson is a writer of short stories. His work has featured in Gold Dust magazine, Literally Stories, Close to the Bone, McStorytellers, Penny Shorts, Soft Cartel, Whatever Keeps the Lights On, Flashback Fiction, Cafelit, Best MicroFiction 2021, Writer’s Egg, Idle Ink, The Wild Word, and Shooter magazine. He is a doctoral student at the University of Dundee, a lucky husband, and a proud father. He blogs at www.matthewjrichardson.com and tweets at https://twitter.com/mjrichardso0.

Cobble and Cloud | Haiku

Autumn has arrived in Scotland this week with the coming of Storm Agnes. I have a couple of thematic haiku, although we’re not quite in frosty territory just yet…

A cobbled street lit by streetlights on a misty night

Cobble

Ribbons of coal smoke

Low over cobbled closes,

Under icy eaves.

Read more: Cobble and Cloud | Haiku
Clogged gutters in a rainstorm

Cloud

Gutters brim-full with

Birds’ nests and leaves, moss and mulch.

Bruised clouds overhead.

*Thanks for reading, folks. Images courtesy of Brock Roseberry and Alan Devine. My recent short stories include ‘Little Daily Miracles‘ and ‘Those Abroad‘.

Matthew Richardson is a writer of short stories. His work has featured in Gold Dust magazine, Literally Stories, Close to the Bone, McStorytellers, Penny Shorts, Soft Cartel, Whatever Keeps the Lights On, Flashback Fiction, Cafelit, Best MicroFiction 2021, Writer’s Egg, Idle Ink, The Wild Word, and Shooter magazine. He is a doctoral student at the University of Dundee, a lucky husband, and a proud father. He blogs at www.matthewjrichardson.com and tweets at https://twitter.com/mjrichardso0.

Claw and Quieten | Haiku

I was able to make the titles of my haiku alliterative this week, so all is well in the world again. We’re hanging off the trees and running through rock this week…

Leaves beginning to turn in autumn

Claw

Slow, first withering.

A once-plush leaf beginning

To claw, to crumple

Read more: Claw and Quieten | Haiku
Stacked slates

Quieten

Subterranean

Run through slate-laden strata,

Through long-quietened mines.

*Thanks for reading, folks. images courtesy of George Hodan and Spodzone. My recent short stories include ‘The Lamplighter‘ and ‘Those Abroad‘.

Matthew Richardson is a writer of short stories. His work has featured in Gold Dust magazine, Literally Stories, Close to the Bone, McStorytellers, Penny Shorts, Soft Cartel, Whatever Keeps the Lights On, Flashback Fiction, Cafelit, Best MicroFiction 2021, Writer’s Egg, Idle Ink, The Wild Word, and Shooter magazine. He is a doctoral student at the University of Dundee, a lucky husband, and a proud father. He blogs at www.matthewjrichardson.com and tweets at https://twitter.com/mjrichardso0.