(In conjunction with Blog Action Day, October 15)
keep burning forests
spilling chemicals in sea:
abandon the earth
******************
windy day again
and the dust filling the sky
stings inside my throat
*******************
washed the car windows
two days later scrawls of red dust
fall out of the air
15 October 2009
Climate Change Tanka
(Reposted from Tanka on Tuesday, for Blog Action Day)
From the low vantage
above the storm-damaged beach
the sea, my old love,
lately appears unfriendly
surging in rougher, closer.
*************************
And two from my side of a debate in verse with a friend who says global warming is false, the earth's been cooling since 1998, and it's a ploy to raise global taxes for the New World Order:
Here in my country
recent years have exceeded
1998
with greater extremes of heat –
but I don't know what this proves.
Warming or cooling,
new world order or new tax,
on this we agree:
our politicians' motives
are seldom to be trusted.
From the low vantage
above the storm-damaged beach
the sea, my old love,
lately appears unfriendly
surging in rougher, closer.
*************************
And two from my side of a debate in verse with a friend who says global warming is false, the earth's been cooling since 1998, and it's a ploy to raise global taxes for the New World Order:
Here in my country
recent years have exceeded
1998
with greater extremes of heat –
but I don't know what this proves.
Warming or cooling,
new world order or new tax,
on this we agree:
our politicians' motives
are seldom to be trusted.
1 October 2009
Dark sky: haiku for September 2009
1/9/09
A dark sky;
here and there
clouds thicken
*****************
Listen – next door’s violent music.
Earlier a walk by the peaceful creek.
Now the day turns dark.
(word count haiku)
4/9/09
Repco Rally Australia
Police and firemen
all over town: car rally
supposed to be fun.
The birds are restless.
Both coucal and brush turkey
rush about madly.
Painted, numbered cars
arrive for days of roaring
through fragile wetlands.
11/9/09
September sunshine.
From the dull bromeliads
red leaves, purple blooms.
***************************
9/11
No-one can forget
that horror already old
and forever new
so I turn my head
focus in on my garden
small fragment of peace
18/9/09
a bright fresh morning
the creeper climbing the palm
has shiny new leaves
*****************
golden girl Mary
leaves Peter Paul and us all
departing solo
25/9/09
a sky full of dust
thickening in the nostrils
and nowhere to run
26/9/09
dust returned today
less red, less thick, less fearful
we grow accustomed
A dark sky;
here and there
clouds thicken
*****************
Listen – next door’s violent music.
Earlier a walk by the peaceful creek.
Now the day turns dark.
(word count haiku)
4/9/09
Repco Rally Australia
Police and firemen
all over town: car rally
supposed to be fun.
The birds are restless.
Both coucal and brush turkey
rush about madly.
Painted, numbered cars
arrive for days of roaring
through fragile wetlands.
11/9/09
September sunshine.
From the dull bromeliads
red leaves, purple blooms.
***************************
9/11
No-one can forget
that horror already old
and forever new
so I turn my head
focus in on my garden
small fragment of peace
18/9/09
a bright fresh morning
the creeper climbing the palm
has shiny new leaves
*****************
golden girl Mary
leaves Peter Paul and us all
departing solo
25/9/09
a sky full of dust
thickening in the nostrils
and nowhere to run
26/9/09
dust returned today
less red, less thick, less fearful
we grow accustomed
Tanka on Tuesday: September 2009
Reposted from MySpace
1/9/09
First of September.
A voice in my dream cries “Wake!”
A dead branch hits the garden
fallen from the palm,
flagging another summer
littered with falling branches.
***************************
sleeping underground
is the safest for wombats
we pray they don’t try
a path across the highway
and turn up their toes, skittled
8/9/09
Close, he looks nervous;
closer, secretly amused.
My smile looks happy,
reflections obscure my eyes.
Body language? We look close!
(See here.)
15/9/09
in September sun
as new leaves and buds glisten
my friend telephones
her dying father’s lucid
they have had a lovely day
22/9/09
it’s Spring Equinox
here in the South of the world
a time of balance
between the light and the dark
then new life starts as light grows
*************************
sunshine and thunder
wind and the smell of new rain
from a warm blue sky
and the blind vine thrusting up
seeking light and sustenance
***********************
only three this year
gathering for Eostre
from the old coven
lighting the wishing candle
surrounded by Archangels
Stormbringer, LightStar
and DragonStar (Queen of Wands)
joined hands round the light
and remembered the others
feeling their spirits present
a sky high and blue
a spreading mulberry tree
dripping with ripe fruit
our hands stained with juice like blood
symbol of death and bright life
24/9/09
TELL THAT TO THE MALDIVES
A response to a friend who claimed climate change is a lie,
as rivers pouring into the sea don’t cause its level to rise.
There is a balance.
Rivers and rain enter, then
evaporation.
But when icebergs keep melting
small Pacific islands drown.
**********************
A fresh Spring morning
yesterday’s choking dust cloud
vanished from this coast –
to infiltrate the ocean
or arrive in New Zealand?
29/9/09
with sunshine outside
long hours at my computer
it’s my life story
before computers long hours
thumping my old typewriter
1/9/09
First of September.
A voice in my dream cries “Wake!”
A dead branch hits the garden
fallen from the palm,
flagging another summer
littered with falling branches.
***************************
sleeping underground
is the safest for wombats
we pray they don’t try
a path across the highway
and turn up their toes, skittled
8/9/09
Close, he looks nervous;
closer, secretly amused.
My smile looks happy,
reflections obscure my eyes.
Body language? We look close!
(See here.)
15/9/09
in September sun
as new leaves and buds glisten
my friend telephones
her dying father’s lucid
they have had a lovely day
22/9/09
it’s Spring Equinox
here in the South of the world
a time of balance
between the light and the dark
then new life starts as light grows
*************************
sunshine and thunder
wind and the smell of new rain
from a warm blue sky
and the blind vine thrusting up
seeking light and sustenance
***********************
only three this year
gathering for Eostre
from the old coven
lighting the wishing candle
surrounded by Archangels
Stormbringer, LightStar
and DragonStar (Queen of Wands)
joined hands round the light
and remembered the others
feeling their spirits present
a sky high and blue
a spreading mulberry tree
dripping with ripe fruit
our hands stained with juice like blood
symbol of death and bright life
24/9/09
TELL THAT TO THE MALDIVES
A response to a friend who claimed climate change is a lie,
as rivers pouring into the sea don’t cause its level to rise.
There is a balance.
Rivers and rain enter, then
evaporation.
But when icebergs keep melting
small Pacific islands drown.
**********************
A fresh Spring morning
yesterday’s choking dust cloud
vanished from this coast –
to infiltrate the ocean
or arrive in New Zealand?
29/9/09
with sunshine outside
long hours at my computer
it’s my life story
before computers long hours
thumping my old typewriter
Sevenling (Orchids and clover)
30 Poems in 30 Days: Day 30
Write a poem about the end of something.
You can find out about sevenlings here.
Orchids and clover hung from pots
on the outside wall of his house,
and that strange white night-blooming flower.
The stars were out, shining clearly,
and moonlight vied with lamplight,
illuminating his hanging garden faintly.…
When he moved away, he took not one plant.
Write a poem about the end of something.
You can find out about sevenlings here.
Orchids and clover hung from pots
on the outside wall of his house,
and that strange white night-blooming flower.
The stars were out, shining clearly,
and moonlight vied with lamplight,
illuminating his hanging garden faintly.…
When he moved away, he took not one plant.
30 September 2009
LOLcats Morning
30 Poems in 30 Days: Day 29
Write a poem that gets shorter with each line.
Levi+Freya iz fatcats, greedeecats
alwiz pretends 2 b needeecats.
Hates numeat, roomeat,
doezn’t smell b4 eat.
Roomeat woz off
peepl sez Pew!
Levi+Freya
4 bigspew
can haz
carpet
yet.
Write a poem that gets shorter with each line.
Levi+Freya iz fatcats, greedeecats
alwiz pretends 2 b needeecats.
Hates numeat, roomeat,
doezn’t smell b4 eat.
Roomeat woz off
peepl sez Pew!
Levi+Freya
4 bigspew
can haz
carpet
yet.
Stillness
30 Poems in 30 Days: Day 28
Pick two or three words from [For the Dean by Peter Wild] and use them to start your poem.
My words are "with great stillness" – and the content is not to be read as autobiography, lol!
With great stillness
I sit in my house by the sea,
the always moving sea
roaring at night its threats
to encroach further.
With great stillness
I stand on the cliff to watch
as wind-swept waves
come thundering, yellow
as if carrying sickness.
And the man is far away
with the last of my money.
And the timbers creak
and the eaves rattle
as a storm approaches.
An old woman
with nowhere to go
I wrap my shawl tighter,
send the hungry cats out to hunt
and await the Great Stillness.
Pick two or three words from [For the Dean by Peter Wild] and use them to start your poem.
My words are "with great stillness" – and the content is not to be read as autobiography, lol!
With great stillness
I sit in my house by the sea,
the always moving sea
roaring at night its threats
to encroach further.
With great stillness
I stand on the cliff to watch
as wind-swept waves
come thundering, yellow
as if carrying sickness.
And the man is far away
with the last of my money.
And the timbers creak
and the eaves rattle
as a storm approaches.
An old woman
with nowhere to go
I wrap my shawl tighter,
send the hungry cats out to hunt
and await the Great Stillness.
29 September 2009
New Light
30 Poems in 30 Days: Day 27
Pick a morpheme and use it to add adnomination to your poetry.
I've used two: light and mag.
Moonlight and your shining face.
Your light voice murmuring
magical words, that danced
lightly through my imagination,
their meaning magnified.
And your eyes danced, alight.
The image of love, I thought,
but after all more probably delight
in what you might term mischief,
taking it lightly, but I, now
seeing the light, call damage.
Imagine! I thought you majestic,
your head thrown back, your hair
catching the light as you turned
slightly towards the lightening sky
as daylight dawned, soft magenta.
It was a magnificent ride, a flight
to unimaginable heights, away
from the light of reality (that
magisterial blight) but now
the magnetic pull of gravity
returns me to earth; I alight.
Pick a morpheme and use it to add adnomination to your poetry.
I've used two: light and mag.
Moonlight and your shining face.
Your light voice murmuring
magical words, that danced
lightly through my imagination,
their meaning magnified.
And your eyes danced, alight.
The image of love, I thought,
but after all more probably delight
in what you might term mischief,
taking it lightly, but I, now
seeing the light, call damage.
Imagine! I thought you majestic,
your head thrown back, your hair
catching the light as you turned
slightly towards the lightening sky
as daylight dawned, soft magenta.
It was a magnificent ride, a flight
to unimaginable heights, away
from the light of reality (that
magisterial blight) but now
the magnetic pull of gravity
returns me to earth; I alight.
The Presence of the Observer
Changes What’s Being Observed
30 Poems in 30 Days: Day 26
Write a poem about a natural event.
I start my walk to the shops.
Few people along this village road.
A toddler, pushed in a stroller,
spies me going past the other way,
cocks her finger at me and gurgles.
She changes me. I fill with smiles,
waggling my hand back at her,
exchanging grins with her mother.
She changes us all, and
changes our interactions.
I take the upper path, above
trees and river – almost step
on a flattened cane toad
some driver didn’t miss. Think
of the handsome goanna
sprawled across half the road
the other day, his proud head up.
Luckily no traffic there.
I tooted, swerved and missed.
He took off into the bush.
Next day my sleek black hunter
nosed at an open drawer.
I thought he was trying to climb in
(he likes cubby-holes, that cat)
but later he brought out on to the floor
the upturned white-bellied body
of a small lizard, dead.
I wondered then,
does Nature demand
a life lost for a life saved?
I contemplate, too, the woman
who shares her space with wombats.
“They think so differently
about the world,” she says,
finding that charming. “We forget,”
she adds, "That we are animals too.”
I am an event in nature,
like a wombat or goanna.
I am an agent of change,
like introduced cats and toads.
Write a poem about a natural event.
I start my walk to the shops.
Few people along this village road.
A toddler, pushed in a stroller,
spies me going past the other way,
cocks her finger at me and gurgles.
She changes me. I fill with smiles,
waggling my hand back at her,
exchanging grins with her mother.
She changes us all, and
changes our interactions.
I take the upper path, above
trees and river – almost step
on a flattened cane toad
some driver didn’t miss. Think
of the handsome goanna
sprawled across half the road
the other day, his proud head up.
Luckily no traffic there.
I tooted, swerved and missed.
He took off into the bush.
Next day my sleek black hunter
nosed at an open drawer.
I thought he was trying to climb in
(he likes cubby-holes, that cat)
but later he brought out on to the floor
the upturned white-bellied body
of a small lizard, dead.
I wondered then,
does Nature demand
a life lost for a life saved?
I contemplate, too, the woman
who shares her space with wombats.
“They think so differently
about the world,” she says,
finding that charming. “We forget,”
she adds, "That we are animals too.”
I am an event in nature,
like a wombat or goanna.
I am an agent of change,
like introduced cats and toads.
27 September 2009
Extreme Weather
30 Poems in 30 Days: Day 25
Write a poem as that uses every letter of the alphabet at least once.
Coming in from the coast
I thought what a fine morning
the sky clear after last night’s dust,
but approaching Murwillumbah I saw
thick haze along the Border Ranges
the highest peaks almost invisible
ghostly traces behind the white.
As I unpacked the car, while the wind
came in buffeting gusts, I felt it
in the back of my throat, stinging.
Water couldn’t quench that fire,
it wasn’t exactly thirst.
It’s still here, I can feel it now
just as a tickling cough – even though
mid-afternoon I was wracked
by sudden sneezing, explosive,
over and over, and shivers
ran down my back.
I have the central desert
inside my body. I don’t know
if or when or how it will ever leave.
Too much and it might kill me.
So far it is not too much. This time.
By noon we could no longer
see it in the air. The sky was blue,
the sun shone, the day grew warm.
On the television screen tonight we saw
the rapid floodwaters in the Philippines,
rivers through Manila streets
I walked in ’78; counted our blessings.
Write a poem as that uses every letter of the alphabet at least once.
Coming in from the coast
I thought what a fine morning
the sky clear after last night’s dust,
but approaching Murwillumbah I saw
thick haze along the Border Ranges
the highest peaks almost invisible
ghostly traces behind the white.
As I unpacked the car, while the wind
came in buffeting gusts, I felt it
in the back of my throat, stinging.
Water couldn’t quench that fire,
it wasn’t exactly thirst.
It’s still here, I can feel it now
just as a tickling cough – even though
mid-afternoon I was wracked
by sudden sneezing, explosive,
over and over, and shivers
ran down my back.
I have the central desert
inside my body. I don’t know
if or when or how it will ever leave.
Too much and it might kill me.
So far it is not too much. This time.
By noon we could no longer
see it in the air. The sky was blue,
the sun shone, the day grew warm.
On the television screen tonight we saw
the rapid floodwaters in the Philippines,
rivers through Manila streets
I walked in ’78; counted our blessings.
26 September 2009
I Want
30 Poems in 30 Days: Day 24
Write a poem that begins with the word "I".
I want a little car
that could follow me like a dog.
I like to walk, I need to walk,
but sometimes I walk too far
and then it would be handy
if my car was right at heel
gutter crawling slowly on a lead.
I could ride home happy
sitting at the wheel
as if it needed driving,
my clever little car.
I’d feed it oil and petrol
give it a drink of water
and put it to bed in the garage.
I wonder if it would come
if I whistled?
Write a poem that begins with the word "I".
I want a little car
that could follow me like a dog.
I like to walk, I need to walk,
but sometimes I walk too far
and then it would be handy
if my car was right at heel
gutter crawling slowly on a lead.
I could ride home happy
sitting at the wheel
as if it needed driving,
my clever little car.
I’d feed it oil and petrol
give it a drink of water
and put it to bed in the garage.
I wonder if it would come
if I whistled?
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