Commercial Poem

Come here, come here, come over here!

Here's a fresh, hot poem for sale —

one you can sink your teeth into,

one that tastes better than chocolate.

Look at it, listen to it; you have to agree

it's a very good specimen. Join the queue.

We're going to auction it off.

Who'll be the highest bidder?

Settle down! Don't push and shove!

I know you're keen, I understand.

But once the original sells,

you can bid for cheaper copies.

So don't let's make it a free-for-all.

What was that? Who yelled, 'Free verse'?

Bugger! He's started a riot.

Now they all want gifts.

Listen, mate, there's the internet

for that kind of thing. There's all those blogs.

What will you offer me

for this virgin poem, unread?

Poetic Asides November Poem A Day Chapbook Challenge: day 29, a commercial poem.

Seagull Moment

It lifts up

or is wind-caught,

the gull against the sky.

I see it from beneath —

head high, chest vertical,

wide wings flaring

white on blue

like a flag

or a cross

made of light.

Poetic Asides November Poem A Day Chapbook Challenge, day 28: a bird poem

Here

Sky blue burning.

Summer is here

as always, ahead of time.

Hot, hot, hot, we love it 

from inside our cooled houses,

our beaches and swimming-pools.

Evenings, we sit out

on shady verandahs,

watching the local birds.

Mornings, we're up with the sun,

watering and weeding

before that sun climbs high.

Nights, we lie under 

just one sheet, with the fan on.
Here in the Caldera, living is good.

Poetic Asides November Poem A Day Chapbook Challenge 2013: day 27, local. 

Free Falling, and If Books Were Free

Free Falling

I let go 

the stone

and it 

drops 

straight to 

the ground

fast.

The dandelion seed 

drifts

on its feathery white parachute,

dancing, dipping 

and tilting

this way and that,

floating down slowly.

If Books Were Free

If books were free,

I'd collect all the  stories

and read them the rest of my life.

I'd never have nothing to read.

Some would sit on my shelf,

some would be on my device.

Some I would give away.

The best I would keep to re-read.

Books are my friends and family,

books are my food and drink.

I get them for birthdays and Christmas

but I never have enough.

You can't have too many books,

but you can have too few.

If books were free and I had enough room …

I’d probably need an extra life!

Poetic Asides November Poem A Day Chapbook Challenge: day 26, free (blank) and (blank) free.

The House Remixed (twice)

The day 25 prompt from Poetic Asides November Poem A Day Chapbook Challenge is to remix a previous poem —and various ways are suggested. I took a long piece of free verse — my ekphrastic poem of day 11 — and turned it into two different short, formal pieces.  

Tanka:

I dream of a house

on a cliff above the sea,

forest at its back

and green grass all around it.

I dream it waits for me there.

3x3x8

(My own invention: 3 lines, 3 rhymes, 8 syllables per line.)

The house above the sea is old.

Its big windows gaze from the cliff

and the forest rises behind.

I wonder has the house been told

that I’m the one it waits for; if

it knows that it is mine to find?

I dreamed of it always: the gold

sunlight, the breeze a little stiff,

the sea shining … time out of mind.

I've Got Eyes in the Back of My Head

My Mum said that.

She meant we kids better not

do anything naughty

because she would see.

When I was little

I thought they were real,

those eyes, and I didn't

know how they stayed hidden.

Did the lids blend

perfectly with the skin behind

her hair, as if invisible?

How was it possible?

Why weren't they exposed?

Did she keep them closed

except when checking on us? 

It was most mysterious.

If they were really there,

under her hair,

didn't her hair spoil the view?

How did she look through?

I never solved these mysteries

but I still believe she could see us

doing what we didn't ought.

We always got caught!

Poetic Asides November Poem A Day Chapbook Challenge: day 24, response to a statement.

Also linking to dVerse Poetics, 1 March 2014, on invisibility. (Mum's extra eyes may have been invisible; our misdeeds were not!)

I Shouldn't Be Here

But I am,

in the gap between 

the back of the couch

and the wall.

This is my secret place.

Now I mustn't move.

There are voices

and I know whose.

They are saying

grown-up things. 

I don’t understand, but I know 

I’m not supposed to hear.

I’m listening

with wide-open ears

and keeping 

very quiet.

Poetic Asides November Poem A Day Chapbook Challenge: day 23, 'I shouldn't be here'.

Secret Messages

We wrote them in lemon juice

on white paper.

The juice faded quickly

to invisible. We children knew —

When you received

a blank sheet of paper,

it was a secret message

from one of the gang.

To read it, you had to

iron it — yes, like laundry.

The heat made the letters appear,

turning them rusty brown.

But it all depended on

having a wooden pen

with a steel nib — as we did —

to dip in the lemon juice.

What do kids do now

when pens like that

are never seen?

Now they use computers.

Now, to make 

a secret message,

hit ‘Select All’

and turn the text white.

The person on the other end

has to know. They re-select, 

turn it back to black,

read it. Perhaps reply.

But that’s the problem

with secret messages.

Sooner or later you do have to

read them. And if you can ...

In my day you burnt the paper, 

or chewed it up in little bits 

and swallowed it. You can't do 
things like that to a computer. 

Poetic Asides November Poem A Day Chapbook Challenge: day 21, Secret messages, second attempt.

Ode to the Remora

I love the idea

of this ray-finned

sucking fish,

its oval dorsal fin

with slat-like

structures

to take firm hold

against the skin

of larger mammals.

They attach

to some poor wretch

of shark or whale,

turtle or dugong

or mantua ray.

Holding tight,

they look like

little silver ripples

on its hide.

That is,

they hitch a ride.

I guess it’s faster,

even though

they swim well

on their own

with sinuous

or curved

motion.

Many but small,

they travel together,

feeding on what

the host drops.

Some hide

in the great casket

of the host’s mouth

scavenging

leftovers.

Sometimes

the host

eats them!

It’s a life

lazy but

dangerous,

prone to

sudden

eclipse.

Poetic Asides November Poem A Day Chapbook Challenge: day 22, use at least three of these words ( used four):

·       ideogram

·       remora

·       casket

·       eclipse

·       selfie

·       wretch

Many of the phrases used were found in the Wikipedia article; some quoted verbatim.
      

Also submitted for dVerse Form For All: an ode in the style of Neruda, i.e. short lines, concrete images, real-life objects. They’re supposed to celebrate the ordinary; I departed somewhat from that! 

Secret Message

Let this poem, going

on down the page,

veering not, show

everything that matters.

If it had a

spine,

a straight edge, all

links would support

lucid or veiled explanations.

Is not such a

secret message found

at the beginnings of

linear explorations, and (partly) one

long sideways excursion?

Poetic Asides November Poem A Day Chapbook Challenge: day 21, a secret message.

This one is more of a riddle, really. Who will be first to post the answer?

Always and Never

Always and Never

are sister and brother.

You can't have one

without the other.

If you always drink coffee,

you never drink tea.

If you're never imprisoned

you'll always be free.

If you always worked

you'd never get to play.

If you never went home

you'd always be away.

But to do something never

can't always be good.

And to do something always —

I'm sure I never could. 

I often like sometimes;

I sometimes like often.

Always and never

are too hard. Let's soften!

But if you leave one,

you must leave both together.

They travel in tandem,

always and never.

Should I bid them goodbye

forever and ever?

No! I often like always

and sometimes like never.

So though I won't always

say always, that's true,

I don't think I'll never 
say never, do you?

Poetic Asides November Poem A Day Chapbook Challenge: day 20, ‘Always …’