Stars pooled like milk at zenith
coloured lights tracking across
blinking
Deep night swallows all light
here on the Moor
Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Stars pooled like milk at zenith
coloured lights tracking across
blinking
Deep night swallows all light
here on the Moor
Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond
The overwhelming sky enthrals me
shows me its magic, fills me with glory
layers of stratus, piles of towering cumulus
cirrus lacing glazes overtop
neon pink icy scribbling on an evening horizon
fireworks sunsets, pale sleepy dawns
reds, yellows, purples, greens overwrite the blue and black
Gauguin, Picasso, Rothko must have felt this
The Starry Night is truth, no wonder Vincent suffered so
Genghis rode under this dome that encompasses all of our lives
did its pressure drive him to the cities for refuge rather than plunder?
The overwhelming sky appears to have no end
although I know that it is but the skin on the planet apple
it bears down on me, it conquers me
filling me up with its immensity
until I spill this burden of words
to offer them as sacrificial token
to try to explain this hold
to bid to exorcise it
to seek release
but
it is the master of me
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
First published at Your One Phone Call
Firs reach up like brushes
to paint you a deeper blue
gulls drift on taut wings over
waves crumpling against rocky islets
myriads of small bright coloured boats
sidle around towering white ferries
your summer bounty
glints on every surface
fresh minted each day
Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond
For John Looker
Grey is nothing
The dead zone between black and white
Grey is age
The old road surface, the unwanted hair
Gray is the softness of pregnant cloud
Gray puts on her evening dress
And goes dancing
Using her alter ego, silver
Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond
The sky seduces me
fills my eyes.
Staring out at grey rains today
blessedly cooling
remembering white noons
brick red sunsets, lemon dawns
whales breaching, jellyfish jellying
wind in hair and lungs
exhilaration and joy
memories that tip toe in
hand in hand with all my loves and woes
happinesses, griefs.
I hum songs of the sky
her shadows and canvases
float in my own internal ocean
drift and dream.
Each time I see her, I am joy.
Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond
My poem “Calling Sky” has been published and is available in the April issue of Utopia Science Fiction online – https://www.utopiasciencefiction.com/shop.
Thank you to the editor Tristan Evarts for publishing this poem which is very special to me…..
The Moon has just
blown a kiss to me
which spirals
and spurls across space
floats gently on the atmosphere
then sinks
is buffeted by winds
shot up and down in a thundercloud
finally to settle on my lips
cool blue sentiment
suffuses my body
places moonbeams in my hair
Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Today I’ve arranged to breakfast with the sky
we haven’t been talking much lately and
so need some alone time together
in her lovely blue halls cushioned with fluffy cumuli
although blue is probably not her best colour
at breakfast, she’s more into yellow and rose.
Trouble is, she gets up so early and those of us who
don’t need to rise for work tend to sleep in….
I wonder if that’s why she’s been so distant to me?
Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Let me lie here
Open to the sky
Counting blessings
Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond
The image is built in a series of layers
First, a pale blue wash across the sky
Then, broad brush strokes of pale icy cirrus
With pen details of contrails crossing At the midpoint
Broken colours of cumulus, grays dark and light
Inky smudges along the horizon
All above a darkened landscape
Washes of Greens
Inked in hedges
Occasional highlights
Painting left unsigned
Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Reblogged from 2016