I am pleased to announce that four more of my concrete poems are now available as T-shirts and stickers.
Posts tagged concrete poem
Posted 1 month ago
Whales
.- . ” .-.
. - . ’-.-’ .-.
’ ‘-. | .-’ ’
;;;
Wonders
of the sea, mammoths
of a deep, blue world. Intruded on
by a species not willing to settle for
a dry and comfortable land. Powerless to
fight against a force that floats above, whales sing a
mournful song and dive to depths that man cannot reach.
Travelling the oceans long before a human could
throw together a raft to cross a river, they inspire awe in
most eyes that they grace with a trip to the surface. For
all that man has hunted them and brought them to the
brink of extinction, they still approach with the
curiosity
of intelligence.
Posted 1 month ago
Zzzz
Sleep, dear, fleeting sleep, in
such small portions you seep
into my world as I am curled
up hoping my sanity I can
keep. Oh snoozing is not
losing when in my mind I dream. I
am at peace under the sheets, the
landscapes agleam. Precious
dozing, as not so closed
in, all my fears I can
not see. I am the narrator, I am the
creator, all the stories are for me. So I am drifting
the weights are lifting from my shoulders not hunched. Sweet
serenity, calm amenity, no nerves bunched.
Posted 1 month ago
Aeroplanes
Small world
swirls in pearly
curls of distances
liquefied and unified
by desire and longing.
Longing that seems to
make time flow backward,
while feelings moves forward in uncontrolled
waves save for the moments of virulent despair with
me here and you there. For these oceans to be crossed, the
cost is small but duty stalls our meeting with its fleeting
chances for us to fly over the seas to be as
one. Your sun will be my sun
when winter comes. Let the shiny
wings of the man-made angels glide you safely to
my arms. This small world that swirls in pearly curls
of liquefied distance seems larger from where I stand and
until you land here and your hand is enclosed my mine,
I will watch the lines in the
sky craving your
arrival.
Posted 3 months ago
Initiations
.. .-. .-. .-. .-. .. .
Ok, Luke, old boy, put down those toys, as the time -. .-.
time has come for you to be a man. You have to show your stock, and wrestle a
croc, to prove that you are an Australian. It fights like a blizzard, that wretched lizard,
spinning and turning to bite at your face. If you beat that bastard we can
go and get plastered because you would have earned your rightful place. The ladies will
love ‘ya, after we’ve shoved ‘ya into the river to spar the beast. If you don’t
make it then you made the
mistake and died as an Aussie
is ‘spose ’ta at least. So
Luke old boy
put down
your
toys
and
come
to
the river with your bares hands.
Show us your stock and wrestle the croc, and we will see if he or you stands.
Posted 5 months ago
The spirit of the season should just be the spirit
This
time of year,
so full of cheer,
with loved ones near, we’re cleared
of fears. Time slows down and in our ears we
hear well wishers so sincere. But tears appear and
sneer and jeer as soon as all of the tinsel’s cleared, We
never seem to persevere or keep our cheer for the next
year. Right upon our sparkling trees we place an angel so it
sees our unencumbered charity of giving without charging
fees. Some may eschew the seed of
greed and pass their wealth to
those in need but one good deed doesn’t
exceed those bad that come in a stampede.
If we could just extend our sight and do
what’s right when not contrite we may be
in a brand new light and
in a world a bit more
polite. To give outside
the festive season, to
offer kindness without a
reason, to put faith aside
and not cry treason. One
whole year to take our ease
o n.
This time of year so full of cheer should not be just this time of year.
Posted 5 months ago
*
Fine print,
small hints,
dints to the
elegance of
our confidence. The
relevance of our stance, defined by
the resonance of the stamps that show that
lamps held up to answers will show dancers in
between the lines. Every “yes” has an “if” or
a “but” to strut and jut out to trip
us up. Every consent
is rent with vents used
to circumvent the assent
and every intent questioned
to find if more was promised
than spent, Straight faced,
nobody will lie, but so
often, these:*
* Conditions apply
Posted 5 months ago
My answer is: no
I
have often wondered:
Can someone’s life spin far
out of control, to
the point
that the recent falling is used
as an excuse for not trying
any longer? Can a life
that has been lived in a state
of free falling be used as a way
to bring others down with little,
if any, feel of guilt? Can one who
is hurt by one man’s hand then raise
an open palm to slap the third man?
If a fool hurt our father, are we okay
to beat the fool’s child? If a price
is too high at the baker, is it fine
to steal from the butcher? When one
of the world’s leaders tells
a lie, should we assume all people
in that country are not to
be trusted? Should
we go to war against a
god because one of
its prophets
hated us?
