Showing posts from September, 2014

Day 25 - Oscillate


I oscillate between knowing and not knowing
You hold the truth and did not choose to share
But now the revelation comes late in the day
But it comes, bright and charging into my life
News from the past, precious nuggets offered
For the future
Important.  Possibly.  Unknown.

Character, dissonance, holy, transcendental, traffic - several poems later...

Holy silence splashing macaw leaves
Falling characters beat a march
Drifting, transcendental in dilute sun
Autumn traffic meets misty dissonance

Day 18 = Rhubarb

Rhubarb crimson rush blush
Nonsense over-analysing backwards
Pick me up and throw me down
Making sense is not needed
Spinning leaves smoothing the path
Black clouds of gibberish

Days 16 and 17 - Hook and Semblance

This isn't a hook up
There is a semblance of a relationship
Nobody will know
Who will care but me

This isn't a hook up
There is a semblance of a relationship
Something I can tell my friends
They will believe me and be happy

That wasn't a hook up
There is a semblance of a relationship
She's forgotten my number
Left it at the bottom of her bag

She will be surprised at my message
Left in her bedroom
Scrawled on her mirror
Now she has my number

And I have hers

Day 15 - Questions

Who are you
How am I
Where are we
What are you doing
What am I doing
What are we doing
How did we get here
I want to go home

Day 14 - Lions

It's Sunday night; here comes a cinquain.

Wild eyes
Danger lurking
Swift claws biting deep
Stealth shadows twisting behind grass

Day 13 Cheerio

She says cheerio
As though she intends to return
The avoided glance suggests otherwise
The missed kiss a suggestion
That the thing that was wrong
That thing which cannot be defined
That I cannot fix because
Is lingering and biting still.

Day 12 - Placemaking

You have made your place at my side
I will not fail you
You walk before me and with me
I am not alone
You see all and do not judge
Athough I falter and trip
You have made your place at my side
I am glad

Many days - Foible, portmanteau, collapsible, Henry

Oh my goodness - four days late!  So now I have four words to write about.

Your foible?
What can I say?
Your limitations are legendary,
Your defects well known,
Your faults and imperfections?
Need more be said?
Your shortcomings are obvious
And as for your inadequacies,
Where do I start?
Your weaknesses and success in failing,
Should I go on?


You meant your sword?


I never knew that 'motel' derives from 'motor' and 'hotel'.
You learn something new every day.

Collapsible is useful,
Handy even,
Big things made small,
Neat and tidy.

Henry is Harry
The spare to the heir
Not second to last

Poetry days 6 and 7 - a combined 'cheat'! Thingness and catastrophe

The Thingness of a Catastrophe

It is is the unravelling, this thingness,
This unexpected event, the shock,
The surprise - the unknowing of it all.
The happening happens with no alarm,
No herald of disaster or change and
no 'notice'.  No red fonted approach here,
No, this sneaks up on quietened toes,
Soft slippers felted and hushed, tapping,
The catastrophe is made, born, emerged, discovered
and even looking sideways, through a squint
and under furrowed brows, all has changed
And you can never go back.

Poetry days 3 and 4 - Upon and Home

Upon the hill there lies a life
It twists and turns as a knife
The spirit does not want to leave
Though the body gasps hard to breathe

Upon the hill there lies a dent
The last sign of a life mispent
The spirit which was ripped out fast
Remains to ensure no-one gets past

They came looking for a home
A place to rest
Somewhere to call their own
They tried their best
To enter the unfriendly zone
But just like the rest
They were outcast and alone

Poetry day 3 Pernickity

She says I'm pernickity
Picking up faults
Saying them too

I say I'm honest
And insightful
I won't be the one to lie

Pernickity is as it does
Take it or leave it
Just like me

I'll leave my keys before I slam the door

Day 2 - Apples

September sun splits through lilac asters
Blackberries hang jewel-like behind cobwebs
The thud of apples punctuates the insect hum

September poetry day 1

So it's back to poetry for this month!  My first word is 'abstract'.

Don't act all abstract on me.
It doesn't suit you when
I want concrete and certainty,
Not words of mist that get lost in your fog.