Sunday, March 24, 2013

Forgotten Country



I stand by a tree in the playground
of a deserted primary school.
One of thousands that education emptied.
Contraception, emigration
left the land with a wound
that may never heal.
The sound of laughter
torn from the heart.

These thoughts jar.
I kick the sand on the path,
my mind stirred.
The sadness of desertion
cannot be disguised.
.
I walk, there is no hurry,
across the valley
where the barefoot children
of yesterday, ran,
thinking of the stories children made
dying in the mouths of those
who stayed.

(disguised, forgotten, country, hurry, tree, wound, mind, sand, stirred, jar, across, yesterday)


Sunday, March 17, 2013

Day Dream Location (wordle 100)



At home on a hilltop,
far from any street,
I stretch my eyes
across blue distant
folding hills.
.

The buzzard circles and calls
and March lambs
run through young grass.
Faint voices drift up,
of neighbours
in the valley below.

I train my eyes on them.
They check their mail boxes
and share news.
Their words die
before they reach this height.

Master of my own reality,
I create their conversations
and day dream.
Change places?
Not I
In my home
in the sky.

(Change, faint, street, stretch, places, calls, march, train, create, words, die, master, share.)

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Outside the Patisserie - Wordle 99



Every move tells a story
of habit and use.
It's written on the body.
Intimate, we think we know,
but from an outsider,
a video,
or through a window glancing,
the story we knotted together
or our self
unravels.

The paint, the wraps,
(the fearsome parts
we think we have
so cleverly disguised),
fall away
and there, in the reflection
of a shop window
we see our mother,
our father.
Our 'take' on life
uncovered, raw, shocking.

Deep down in our hearts
or handbags
we have reserves -
building blocks of ego.
It may be chocolate
or prayers.
Om mani padmi om.
Enter and buy
chocolate eclairs.

Paint, use, outsider, away, fearsome, part, reserves, body, intimate, written, window

Sunday, March 3, 2013

Highs and Lows

Wordle 98
Blue, blessed, deserves, first, gasps, instant, slap, snare, dust, unbalance, ride, wings.

Highs and lows

How can you unbalance
the scales
and tip them to touch heaven,
to feel the draught
from angels' wings,
without them swinging
down into the dust,
to feel the slap
the instant you hit the ground?

From the blessed blue heaven
to the snare of dark depression
the ride of life goes on.
At first one gasps
and screams and cries
and thinks it is only what one deserves,
but later, or sooner,
through thoughtful introspection
the balance
can be found.