I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world,
to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

This blog is not, 'Here are my very best poems'. It's for work in progress, subject to revision.
Posts may be updated without notice at any time. Completed work appears in my books.

31 May 2012

Verse Portrait 91. Nursing Home: Keith

He’s thin and slighty stooped
but the grey hair’s thick and wavy

and he moves at normal speed —
except when he’s with her.

Holding her hand 
or arm around her

he leads her to meals
or out to the sunny garden.

She turns to him
a gentle, vacant face.

He greets us cheerily,
eyes full of comprehension.

We realise he lives here 
to be with her.

He looks happy. 
So does she.


Submitted to Poetry Pantry #101 at Poets United. Click on the link to enjoy a poetry feast!

Verse Portrait 90. Nursing Home: Bobbi

Bobbi walks quickly 
along the corridors,
keeping to the edges.
One day she tells me,
whispering:

‘I hurt my hip. Now 
I have to keep walking 
or it seizes up.
I feel conspicuous
and embarrassed.’

She is slim
in her neat slacks
and cardigan,
sweet face framed
by a short pageboy.

Her eyes widen
a moment and I glimpse 
fear, want to hug her 
but will not intrude
on her frail dignity.

Submitted to Poetry Pantry #101 at Poets United. Click on the link to enjoy a poetry feast!

27 May 2012

That red wine: May haiku 2012


full moon
blurred white through cloud
I miss you

7/5/12



















(from the facebook group UmitBattal POOR - HAIKU© )


I recall
only the red wine
not the glass

*******

that red wine
the essence of joy
stands alone

*******

wine lingers
the glass that held it
breaks apart

*******

the glass
falls away
from the wine

20/5/12


drizzly rain
from morning to night
angry words

25/5/12

20 May 2012

When I Come to Bed


He’s waiting 
naked and grinning.

We’re not too old for a frolic.

(This never happened
in the nursing home.)


I'm submitting this one to dVerse Open Night #45 — where you'll find lots and lots of good reading from a great community of poets.

Obama the President


Oh how ecstatic.  
At last, I thought, 
And liked him so much, 

his Yes We Can slogan 
reminiscent,
It’s Time!

But it hasn’t turned out 

‘What chance
have they given him?’
someone asks.

I don’t know. 

Couldn’t he have closed 
Guantanamo? am I naive?  

Anyone, of course,
better than George 

personable, and his family
And has a brain

ought to have been 
the Messiah some of us 

but in truth 
seems weak.

And a damn sight more 
warmongering 

What good 
killing Bin Laden? 

him and Hilary and co 
all sitting around 
watching it on TV, 
like murder was GOOD 

chilling banality. 

No I don’t say Bin Laden 
was right or good or anything
But still. 

‘Two wrongs don’t make’

those values
long gone now.


A 'cut-up' poem, made from a prose timed writing in response to a prompt at WordsFlow writers' group.


9 May 2012

Lament


It’s a lonely sound,
the plane going over
up there in the night.

So is the gathering of wind
from the corners of darkness
into a rumble, then a howl.

I want to cuddle with my love,
sleep near his warmth all night.
He wants that too, yet we’re apart.

Submitted for dVerse Open Link Night #43

8 May 2012

Tanka Challenge

In the midst of the Poetic Asides April PAD Challenge, Robert Lee Brewer also issued a tanka challenge.  He has just announced the winner, out of hundreds submitted. It is by Jane Schlensky, you can read it here, and it will be published in a future issue of the Writer's Digest magazine. He also listed the rest of the 'top ten', and what do you know — one of mine came second! 

Here are all those I submitted. The first is the one chosen. I hedged my bets and made some of them 5/7/5/7/7 even though I think that the least important 'rule' for tanka in English. I'm particularly delighted that the one chosen has shorter lines.


tonight
she is lonely
writing
new love poems
to an old love

********

when I am dancing
and you are looking at me
with your eyes shining
for a moment I forget
that we are old people now

*******

once upon a time
when the fairytale ended
and they did not live
happily ever after,
they found another sweetness

*******

a still night
the hum of his bike
goes for miles
she hears him leaving
the rest of her life

*******

she dozes
a gentle touch
on her arm
awakens her
she sees no-one


PS  My place-getting tanka was later published in the Writer's Digest of September 2012.

6 May 2012

High Care


I try to recreate a homely feel
within the nursing home. It isn’t real
and their new schedules take you when I leave.
It is the very contrast makes us grieve —
this isn’t home. Nor is the old home now
without you. I would bring you back — but how?

I must surrender you to better care
than I can give, although it seems unfair
and you believe I have abandoned you.
In fact it was the only thing to do.
I want to smile, not weep when I am here
visiting you. Let’s find some new joy, dear

for still we’re never one whole day apart,
and surely home is in the other’s heart?

A response to the dVerse FormForAll prompt: Clarian Sonnets
though written too late to be included in the line-up there.


2 May 2012

Things you think: April tanka 2012


Things you think
you will always remember —
some you do.
The bedroom by the sea
had bamboo walls. I was eight.

3/4/12

Yes, only one tanka this April.

Bleak nights and cold: April haiku 2012


Good Friday
we eat the Hot Cross Buns
his blood sugar rises

6/4/12



bleak nights and cold
swirling dust and dry leaves
Melbourne city

**********

city streets
thin dust in gutters
icy wind


17/4/12