eileen's poem collation number XIII
Glorious spring
determined to show
she gives not a toss
for calenders
arrives
on her own time
An old
favourite of mine
I'd long forgotten it
Thanks for the reminder of childhood days when imagination was so real anything seemed possible
I always found the song sort of sad too poor Puff...Lol
‘ darklight ’ written by paul hardwick
dark moves me so
makes me feel fear
dark removes my mind
to a place where i am not sure
it wonders even more
what will be
i can not be sure
eileen replies
Take the dark away
give me to the day
dark evokes fear
all seems too drear
I Have to confess I'm a bit of a chicken in the dark sometimes and that old saying about how things are darkest before dawn I relate to...;o) Lol
look at them
a cackling flock
nails, painted claws
plucking and clucking over scatter cushions
@ only $5 each
it's a wonder the stuffing doesn't spill
A particularly irritating and mindless series of recent television advertisments for K Mart
TV advertising portrays human as idiot although I can't disagree there must be a large contingent that get suckered by it or they wouldn't keep making them (new car ads in particular)
my body
a carcass
to be sloughed off
in death
like a crab
sheds it's shell
or a butterfly
it's chrysalis
finally free
andrew's reply
then sunlight surprises through a blue hole
wind screams at me
sky a swirling vortex
of grey on grey
angry sea churns
all lumpy brown waves
i was pleased by that title and how it works as the end at the beginning
Every man
keeps prisoner
his own heart
i walk alone
I wrote your name
one hundred times
in the sand
tide erases
leaving memory
untouched
i was living in africa attending primary school and i was playing with another girl everyone rejected cos she soiled her knickers they bullied me and tried to get me to reject her and i had some realization that infinity was only visiting those open to it not those of closed agro minds and how it was special and important to not reject the special differant people and how life really is and wot
we are in it
and how u have to ignore the crap artists make ur own choises and avoid those bods and give time to onenesss alone
what i didn't explain about that experiance when I was 7 was it felt like an illuminating definitive moment where i decided how things were if that makes sense
i saw the human world/existance with no rose coloured glasses or pre concieved (except for perhaps thinking it safe till then and believable) concepts i was lost in the sight of africa and then had that at school and on returning to england it was like confermation of
treated like an dirty arab ran away from school hated it in england saw what a mob the human thing was
or white human anyway black was differant
waffling but wanted to try and explain how it was its important to me u see it altho i really don't think that sort of thing is explainable
i knew then i was separate if u know wot i mean
i was so very lucky as were u living in new zealand how could one not be changed by the scenery and people's simple culture
i felt like i'd discovered a secret door somehow and i was really shocked when i realized others didn't
been lucky i guess had had uninterrupted freedom
was lucky mum didn't corral us unless it was for safety reasons
if i'd never gone to africa it may not have occurred or if it did it would have been later in oz maybe
not in england
or maybe it would have i did roam a bit in the country there
my first experiance with being bullied Lol it was quite a shock
really couldn't understand the why of that
her face twisted
a mask of grotesque
all joy wrung out
by grief's tourniquet
in response to a news story that featured a mother attending the funeral of her young child
funny how titles seem important it has to fit with how you felt on writing but at the same time you don't want to give a preconcieved notion that limits where it might take the reader
young love
demands perfection
of face, form and intent
old love
stitches together
the frayed
seeing the beauty
in patchwork
unreality
such a part
of
reality
how can it be
unreal
unreality
such a part
of
reality
how can it be
unreal
having a play with dual meanings
I have known you
but a day
and already
we have a past
I have known you
but a day
and already
we have a past
I was visualizing a young woman pondering a potential new romance...;o)
When you opened
the letter
i wrote to you
did you see
my heart fall out
Little girl
you could see
the poetry
in all around
with toddlers walk
still yet to talk
wide eyed in wonder
without sound
Long ago
i was an ocean
walks on the beach
return me
Was thinking about times spent completely alone on a beach thinking about how we all (species) share a commonality with the ocean cells containing elements found in the seas
loneliness
and liberty
I tightrope walk
loneliness
and liberty
I tightrope walk
peony rose
a tight pink fist
will open soon
to whatever
comes
Old jewelry box
accepting
of all my broken baubles
for stories told
i wish i knew
what was dragging you back
to old habits
and times
not shared
It's about a person having bad habits that they have partially given up returning to them neglecting a loved one and other things they enjoyed that were better for their health
Past the age
for intrigue
I read my old diary
so urgent
those underlinings
Sun and wind airbrush
cracked concrete
indistinguishable
from baked earth
Irony
love comes
this late
do i care
I come here
and scribble
telling strangers
what they don't ask
My confidence
slinks off
surreptitiously
leaving me
feeling foolish
standing alone
Lol a state of flux...I'm in and out of it all the time...;o)
The hills
huddle together
fog draped
around their shoulders
a shawl
As she walks through the garden
her hair swings around her head
affected by the rising mist
it separates
into curls
that twist and swirl
As she walks through the garden
her hair swings around her head
affected by the rising mist
it separates
into curls
that twist and swirl
Fog
like grey gauze
singed by fire
Fog
like grey gauze
singed by fire
Sunrises are amazing they seem to set the sky on fire sometimes and sunsets are like liquid gold pooling across the sky, Love them both :o)
The sun shines
as brightly
as undashed hopes
casting pale gold light
across the lawn
salt from your skin
on my tongue
whispers of the sea
and shells
as curled
as my body is curved
around yours
all the love poems
I wrote for you
you didn't throw away
I never sent them
Her face alight
with laughter
and memories shared
She is young
once more
my mother
Reminiscing can really bring life back into a person for awhile
Sadly it's about the only time she does truely come alive again
Love is not a plan
you fall into it
with arms legs mind heart
guts
free falling
like alice
down the rabbit hole
love
unraveled
the sleeve
i wore
my heart on
Laddered (of a knitted garment) To develop a ladder as a result of a broken thread
I see him walking towards me
he has a kind of loose limbed rangy walk
as he swings through rotating city doors
I can't find it in me to talk
his presence leaves me floored
a cowboy from out on the range
on a visit to city he's bored
and feeling more than strange
face creased like aged leather
he works out in all weather
how i wish we had met
on the range
not a set
and lived on into
happy forever
I've always been attracted to the idea of life on the range with a taciturn cowboy...;o) mind you romantic visioning is quite differant from reality often I did live off the grid and only cold running water in a 3 room cabin with 3 children once for awhile Lol that woke me up :oD
all caught up
in looking at the world
in wonder
a child
does not see
ugly
will we scour this earth
bone white
a skull
picked clean
of eye and soul
Thinking about this planet and the human legacy
a large tree I've hacked limbs from
is staring back at me
through a window
from those wounds
they look like
eyes
and weeping wounded mouth
My trees always seem to forgive me the autumn haircuts I give them but this was amputation Lol It wears a reproachful expression... Lol
Must confess to tree hugging I like pressing my cheeks against the bark and feeling the texture under my hands looking up into the canopy (or climbing into it...;o)
I love trees they are majestic and lungs without which this planet could not survive, I wish I had more room in my smallish garden for more but it's overflowing
We are a destructive force that's for sure more inclined to inflict than create is seems sometimes
we
skin on skin
slippery
sliding
all the way
to
over the top
collision
little deaths
a tangle of limbs
It was a frantic and feverish occasion remembered and I tried to convey the slick and slippery fast ride to a climatic end...;o)
Lol What is life without a little spice added now and then ;o)
Make that opaque not transparent
I want
to be like
a sheet of glass
with everything
rolling off me
like rain
when I was thinking about being like glass I suddenly thought hmm but not see through Lol and the title occured
Yeah detachment can be difficult to attain
It would be good to be able to deflect unpleasantness from others or emotions that are not convenient Lol
is a hard word
to define
it doesn't always mean
sexually connected
in the physical sense
The colour wheel has many a shade
some of them not yet made
grey is the colour to which we fade
if we get soft feelings like suede
This stoney patch
of impenatrable ground
our relationship
Love can survive the harshest of conditions even droughts Lol
I have a little cactus too it's like a bunch of fingers growing out of the pot tiny
but it gets surprisingly large orange flowers once a year that almost dwarf it
The poem surprised me it just popped out from nowhere as they sometimes do while daydreaming....Lol
This poem isn't just about male/female love relationships it's also about the one I don't have with my father and the used to be very difficult one I had with my youngest daughter
Emotions move
across their faces
like ripples
on the surface
of a lake
the title....;o)
(ed. source of inspiration) especially my own when they were that age Lol expressions flit across their faces so fast as they experiance with no hold put on that due to self consciousness love the spontaneity of the very young it has a purity that is beautiful
That's why it was easier to love her more than you
He whispers
a grain of sand
into my shell like ear
it nestles
and grows
a perfect pearl
of paranoia
Not sure I quite pulled it together in a way I wanted to which can be frustrating if it's sort of like a half seen jumble of words in your mind that is elusive and your left feeling like something is missing or not quite right and the more you grasp at it the further away it goes...;o)
i sit
as silent
as an embarrassing thought
tucked away in the corner
of my own mind
a funeral pyre
my autumn garden
spends the winter
cloaked in ash
a funeral pyre
my autumn garden
spends the winter
cloaked in ash
she has a knowingness
sexy
sad
old soul
only 19
morned before birth
a corpse before born
a star
she burns
out
Jack frost
commits
beautiful murder
burning corpses
to black
Frost looks so beautiful yet kills most of what it touches
Autumn enters as
orange fire and departs cold wind
raging at dead leaves.
dead leaves
skeletons now
ribs broken
twisted in mud
autumn fired them
to flame
winter affords
a funeral
Huge presence
makes alien
the sky;
brightness confuses
the night.
Full moon is one of my favourite things sometimes when rising it looks Huge! it really
does seem only at arms reach and always mysterious it does indeed make the sky seem an almost alien place and I can understand why in ancient times they attributed it with magic
powers many a time i've woken in the night thinking it early morn cos it shone so brightly
A clever poem little poem that says so much my favourite kind
Totally agree life does indeed sneak...;o)
Trying to stay one step ahead of that is impossible one can only endeavour
Little flashes of joy take shape in my garden as fairy wrens in sun showers...:o)
ed. reply to
Totally agree life does indeed sneak...;o)
Trying to stay one step ahead of that is impossible one can only endeavour
Little flashes of joy take shape in my garden as fairy wrens in sun showers...:o)
this sting
this pain
without it
i would
drift off
you think
i haven't
already seen
our history
only in
a place
of absence
can i
be here
sand flecked skin
your body you give
heat rises we too
birds sing
waves foam cool around our feet
inhale
exhale
sun stings
not dead yet
you haunt me
still
thoughts of you
against my will
when at peace
under night sky
i lose “myself’
am we not I
“illusory construct” The human state how hard it can be to shuck off that husk sometimes i wish i were but pure energy traversing the milky way....;o)
ed. reply to
dew drop
mirrors all
encapsulating
in minature
everything
reflected
fear sweeps in
a tidal bore
no escape
that rising tide
drowning daily
much too far out
all my life
Auburn coated cattle
seek safe purchase
on a limestone scree
bent windscarred conifers
climb the hill
I've talked this relationship
into the ground
but still
I cannot bury it
It's raining I said
better take an umbrella
she gives me
that look
the one only available
to teenagers
it says “your a bloody idiot ”
more effectively
than any spoken word
she'd rather be dead
than be seen
carrying an umbrella
and soaked to the skin
she might well be
How I wish I had listened to my parents opinion of my choise of husband
I was so set on opposing the very repressive upbringing I'd had I couldn't see there was middle ground
I used to be so opposed to the idea of anything resembling an arranged marriage but I can see with maturity there is something to family input after all Knowledge of what might suit you and years of experiance....
Kids leap into intimacy so easily these days what's wrong with “dating
” and getting to know one another at least you discover wether you even hold the same “values” before sex holds sway ;o)
Prayers are something
we do on our own time
the answers come
in infinities time
It's surface
a perfect plane
reflecting the glow
of autumnal trees
on the shore
above
a cloudless sky
a sudden breeze
frigid as the waters
mars perfection
don't confuse
feeling good
with love
don't confuse
feeling good
with love
we seem to be wired to be hypocritical as a species
transending physical and emotional desires does not come naturally a daily struggle to make intelligent decisions not based on personal desires whatever they be ego boosts and sexual gratification being two big issues ;o)
in that room
you felt like
the whole world
in that room
you felt like
the whole world
a rich panoply
of umber and gold
contrasting against
the conifers green
a glorious sight
to behold
one of the loveliest
ever seen
It's surface
a perfect plane
reflecting the glow
of autumnal trees
on the shore
above
a cloudless sky
the wind blows
as frigid as the waters
she had wonderful roses
in many a hue
colours glorious
one even blue
but in her vases
stand only a few
for on her rose buds
the possums chew
They also love the rind and pith of lemons and frequent my lemon tree quite a bit
A difficult thing to observe in anyone painful to see in a friend how helpless that
can make one feel sympathies extended Frank
An uncle got parkinsons but ended getting taken by bone cancer before the parkinsons did only discovered when he fell down stairs due to the shakes and his thighs snapped like twigs
:o( not sure which would be worse
ed. reply
to
There is something truely spiritual about water besides the fact it gives life to all
It has a soothing presence that takes one to another plane rather like a night sky or sunset and rise
A beautiful prayer of a poem Bala as usual ;o)
Swallowing
lumps
of desperation
they settle
in my stomach
like bad bacteria
it does give rise to a rather nasty recurring stomach ache... ;o)
A few hours contemplation in the garden with sunshine and fairy wrens usually cures it :o)
Lead paned windows
beam shafts of coloured light
dust motes floating
spiral upwards
released from
captive carpets
flee
Lol reminds me too of childhood when I was a child I used to imagine they were fairies that travelled on sun or moonbeams... ;o) they do seem almost ethereal don't they and I still enjoy
them Really wasn't sure wether to put it up or not
won't allow my summer flowers
in winter
the earth becomes
hard & mean
won't allow my summer flowers
even stops
the grass green growing
making months
out of hours
Love is lunacy...;o) and like the moon's effect of ebb and flow
vows
i didn't turn out
as you expected
characteristics
you detected
let down your dreams
of how “we'd” be
as is the same
for me
what will we do
clothed by the sun
i walk in joy
moontides
ebb
clothed by the sun
i walk in joy
moontides
ebb
i look at myself
and see
someone else
which one
is me
i look at myself
and see
someone else
which one
is me
your eyes have gone
now without sight
i walk alone
in this
the night
your eyes have gone
now without sight
i walk alone
in this
the night
Dissolve
full moon
on the beach
altar to prayers
i sacrifice
vain hopes
and climb
stars
stairs
There is nothing quite like standing on a deserted beach under a full moon
you are the most intelligent man i've ever met
and yet
go against your own best advice
does the second statement
render the first
null
andrew's
reply
words hold a spell
i dance the tune
we cross the sky
up to the moon
wisdom of age
does not reveal
what words themselves
often conceal
sometimes age does...;o) Lol
God yeah insomnia the night goes on forever and ragged dawn is weak relief
did love sculpt me
into twisted form
she the storm
blasting away bark
to reveal form
expectations extreme
beyond the norm
referring to love as
she as is often done in writing
andrew's reply
my reply
it's equally a poem about unreal expectations warping perspective about what “love” is and damage taken from this
not just about how love can flay
was trying to sort of create a visual of a stunted tree caused by the roots being purposely damaged
vanity thy name is woman?
why is it
men cannot see
that what appears
to be vanity (in a woman)
is often
fear
because female looks
are so important
to the male
my dear
;o)
love
what a fucking disaster
you fall hard and inevitably
get broken
by the love object
who doesn't love
or
they fall for you too
only when it fades for them
they seem to accept it
with indifferance
not too much later
turning their eyes to ever younger prettier fresh flesh
happy to tell you what an old interest you've become
and "what else did you expect everyone does it"
well I don't
won't
can't
accept that
why?
it's not as if I am out of touch
with reality
no teenager me
love in spite of that
too intensely
how I wish I could
not love
as much
in love is as lonely as
out of it
when your in it
alone
Just some reflection on still being "in love" when your lover is no longer...;o)
Hope the F word is acceptable here it is the only expletive that seemed to resound with the ugly bitterness of the mood i was aiming for
a poem by rod on hello poetry
daydream influx
My random daydreams....
Time machines and tangerines,
both would be sweet now.
my (ed. eileen's)
reply
daydreams made of time machines
and tangerines
are sweet
Wow Matthew a beautiful love story tragic fate indeed
my parents are in their 80's and have no alzheimers altho mother has some sort of dementia and isn't what she was (the past is more real than the now) i often feel sad that I've missed the chance to engage her in ways we take for granted till they are gone
it must be one of the most awful fates to the sufferer and those they are still with while not being so
couldn't think of a worse way to end or how terribly sad it is for the partner of anyone with it
terrific write your talent grows and grows
For I have spent eternity bringing you a gift
Neither the oceans
nor the stars
can equal this
I cannot give you my heart
my soul you already have
seeking a looking glass
i look at myself
remembering
“ For I have spent eternity bringing you a gift ”
Neither the oceans
nor the stars
can equal this
I cannot give you my heart
my soul you already have
seeking a looking glass
i look at myself
remembering
‘ divine visits ’ by frank james davis
A goddess comes
at night
draped only in
moonlight;
enticing
my embrace
with her
shimmering
grace
eileen's response
moonlight
she is enticing
shimmers she does
with grace
to her
this night
i give
my embrace
night ascends
mid winter evening
comes upon the sky
stars glitter
earth and sky are one
everything bound
and unbound
in eternity
a gift
seek
look to yourself
and the stars
i think ascends is better than descends because it always seems to me the night sky rises, it doesn't fall
eileen’s response to a poem titled ‘ i don't want to live forever ’
I wouldn't mind living living for longer than I no doubt will
there is so much on/of this beautiful planet to see (what's left of that)
but in good health not the decent into decrepitude which unfortunately isn't the reality of old age Lol
childhood
land of no responsibility
except to give in to that burning urge
that prickles up the back of your neck on waking
to be off out running under sun
barefoot as soon as out of sight
adventures wait and time belongs to you
you fish for sticklebacks in a field of golden corn
where farmers wave in anger at the trail to the pond
and take home tadpoles in glass jars on string
breathless at the sight of legs emerging
pick bluebells in the wood for mother
but then arrange them in old tins
in tumbledown cottage the gangs den
scrumping crab apples in overgrown gardens
never getting that stomach ache all Adults warned of
roaming hedgerows looking for hedgehogs
hoping for signs of any living thing
all long fled at the collective noise you make
catching butterflies to look at their wings
putting crysillis in greaseproof papered jars
to watch them emerge for flight on glistening wings
when you return them to the wild
lifting up old drain pipes to look for slugs to race
not forgetting to put them back at races end so they don't shrivel
basking in hot sun after watching trails of catapillars
whose prickles mother later tweezers out
amidst a small flood of tears because they flame red
having a bath with bubbles then tucking up in bed
drowzy but anticipating tomorrow is waiting
i haven't done this before
just written down a few reminiscences on childhood occupations
haven't arranged anything just flicked it up as it came so i'm feeling unsure about it
‘ for eileen prunster ’ by paul hardwick
if and i cannot
if i could stop time
at what spot would you
like it to stop
eileen’s reply
if i could choose a point in time to freeze frame
the point before conception...
aged 7 things started looking a bit too real
although of course you need that to survive
rot sets in then with choices your forced to make
because you live in the physical
and nothing ever takes you back to that innocence of fact
where anything is possible...;o)
Lol you did ask...
pre/primary sch age was dreamy
‘ time ’ by paul hardwick
sometimes
time slips
and in what seams no time
time has gone
then some days
time will drag
and go on
and go on
but today
time skips
thank you for reading this
and let me spend time with you
eileen’s response
what amazes me is how when your young time seems to stretch and seems in endless supply
then you get older and it runs out so quickly
aborist
shiva
with long poled chainsaw
demon like
he welds
havoc
reducing my kali
to a goddess with no hands
i always tend to think of trees as much more than that
majestic, inspiring and just plain gorgeous
a world without them would be bereft