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Monday 20 February 2012

My Heart drops Flat

Hey all,

Ever experienced a few quite unsettling moments in one day. A few things happened to me today none of which are really significant at all, well except to me.

The first my heart lurched out of my chest and I seemed for a short while to feel nothing or to at least feel somewhat diminished.

The second event occurred as I walked to the botanic gardens. The wind blew up around my feet billowed over my pants and a gust of leaves scattered over the path and I had that ahh thing happen...that is really nothing but somehow beautiful.

The final event was walking back to the office after lunch. The light completely changed in a step. That is to say I took a step shadow enveloped everything a step later and the light had returned...very strange. I thought I was mad. Now this is a poem...and it's just to say that I think as humans that we see things and want to express them. Well I've seen now let me express.

My Heart Drops Flat

My heart drops flat
To the grounded pavement
Over which my feet tread
And as it sinks down lower
Fluttering flying leaves
Disentangle themselves
From tall ruined trees
Searching for some hope
Decomposed in the earth.

Wednesday 15 February 2012

Endless

I'll admit as a friend kindly admitted to me ;) that not everything here is of the same standard and that is fair. This poem I'm in two minds about exposing for the very simple reason that it's a little too simple.

An odd accusation but really I think I'm just nervous at posting something that has so much repetition. After all we poets are known to be word smiths. Well I strode down the sunny street of the afternoon and I had one sense and word and feeling on my mind. 100 points if you can guess what it is.


Endless

Endless desires
Endless whims
Clouds endless and magnificent
Endless grandeur
Endless happiness
Endless obscurity
Endless dark
Endless and all knowing
Endless days
Endless nights
And all the nights wished to be endless
All moments endless in their own way
All love endless and depthless
Endless minds so inconceivable
Endless notions of complexity
Endless knowledge always to be lost
Endless uncovering
Endless stories to unfold
Memories endless as the
Endless threads allow
Electrical impulses
Constant living writhing endless

Tuesday 14 February 2012

The Descent of the Metal drum

Each to their own
He says as he
Hurls the drum over the stairs
And it sounds on the rails
Then it sails

Down following
The tail of the wren
Who was startled
As its home
Down at the brook
That morning violently
Shook then erupted
In feathers and blood

And mother wren had no patience
For the drum
She ignored the crumbs of
Her husbands remorse
Then speeding as a horse
She made to confront
The metal object

That as it splashed
In the brook
Her quivering anger
Became instead a look
It drum sank and her will at last shook

that man meanwhile
Sits polishing off the
Coffee as he turns in
And turns on
Good old reliable Telly.

Monday 13 February 2012

Die in White

It's an odd place I live in. How quickly the ugliness can be exposed and swept away. I'm talking about racism and reexamine my views in light of something that's happened to my friend.

I don't think we should sweep rai under the rug. This poem is called Die in White because being white I can very easily switch off and let my sensibilities die. It's very easy to be complacent about what doesn't effect us directly, my hope is that anyone reading this won't die in white.

DIE IN WHITE

I have heard once
And felt stronger
When they painted
My friend in colours untrue and vast

They wrote lies
About him
His life and destiny
And laughed about it later

They spoke venom
And poisoned peoples
Heads and infected
Hearts

I'm afraid
How quickly kindness
Can switch to something ugly
Now what will happen

In fact I'm afraid
That nothing will
They'll twist it into something
Delicate and palatable

And maybe then
I'll feel less
Care less
I'll be abandoning my friend
Without a thought.

Sunday 5 February 2012

Simple

Everyone needs to live with themselves
So can't we all know the pain of
Rejection
It's easy to feel sorry for the man
Who trips in the rain
What about the annoying pain in the arse?
Does anyone care about them
When they come home?
What of the hoon bellowing in the bar
His friends all laugh at him
He's their fool
What is he inside when he's all alone though
Does he sit on his bed and fling his body back raucously and in triumph
Or does he sit on the beside
And stare into the cupboard mirror
And sink seeing the rolls his polo top can't conceal and the beads of sweat
On his chest, palm and head
How long might he look
And how might he talk inside
Because we all talk inside
And think deeply
You say no though what of those
Simple folk well I chuckle at such an
Answer but it won't be kind sort of laugh
It'll be bitter and long because I know
that sadly
Inside none of us are very simple at all.