Sparks zip
synchronous bodies
in harmony
porous words
flutter between oxygen
touching the sky
silver trails
feathering slowly along
the curve of your spine
gutters flow
into a moon pond
perhaps frogs sing…
Month: May 2011
Water sketch of a photograph
From across the hemispheres
a photo of a well tended garden,
landed in my stream.
A clematis, glorious mauve,
variegated hues
evoking visions
of quinacridone magenta, violet,
mixed with fuchsia, imperial purple
and lapis lazuli
swirling waterborne
edged with graphite
a heart of lemon yellow
with gold lights.
Five Lines May 21 – Saturday afternoon
floating leaves
in dappled light
inside stillness
dogs bark
eager for adventure
________________
wet paper stretching
gummed down
dreams of cauliflowers
and kings and
flamingo skies
______________
In a pool of sunlight
whiskers twitching
cat sits on words
playing mouse
with a paintbrush
_______________
nose to tail
snoozing in the dapples
she anticipates
the smell of wet pigments
borne on squirrel hair
________________
Synthetic hairs
bound with string
glued to wood and metal
ticked like sable
ready to speak
Friday Morning
Snooze, sudoki and soft chatter,
Friday morning calm invisible
drapes in between wheels’ clatter;
the pauses seem quite divisible,
as space between eyebrows expands,
painted eyes lashes butterfly
through windows smeared with dirty hands
steel and leaf in a leaden sky…
soar up to the clouds etched in gold;
turn inside a crowded carriage,
rattling now, faces looking cold
caught in thoughts of pressing bondage,
seeking gaps in the air between
and come to rest in fields of green.
Five Lines May 19 – A Tanka
Shifting bridges
Through the glass of the train
Sprinkles of green whimsy
A blink in the machine
Bring a wry smile
5 Lines X 3 May 15
Light slowly fading
Golden dapples
Obscuring her face
To slice time
In half
““`
whirring wings
doves  glisten
in late afternoon sun
a dog sniffs the air
then kisses his nose on my leg
““`
He was busking, he said
Left for dead
Vodka to dull the pain
On the telephone
His broken voice
Tiger Lily
Bold sparks of inspiration fly,
Your buds reveal an orange heart,
Tendril stamens caressing the sky,
Bold sparks of inspiration fly,
Not for you a gentle lovelorn sigh,
Rather your love shall be a work of art,
Bold sparks of inspiration fly,
Your buds reveal an orange heart.
Iris
Beneath the ground, your scented rhizome
Prized throughout the human centuries,
Sweet dreams of rainbows and vaulted domes
Awakening old violet memories.
Your ancestors were carved into beads
Used by cloistered folk to count prayers
To absolve a prince’s crass misdeeds
Engaged in important state affairs.
Yet, once of Isis you reminded us,
A Goddess of the lunar seasons;
Of abundance we were desirous,
We’d pray to you for selfish reasons.
Your roots are still prized for rare perfumes;
Many are transfixed by your soft blooms.
By Any Other Name
Soft, your petals catch the play of light,
Sweet, the scent you send into the day,
Pinned on silk gowns swishing in the night,
Your promise is true love; come what may.
Sometimes you grow wild, on rocks and clay,
Bringing smiles of joy in a barren place,
Lost travellers in mazes of dismay
Uncover the heart, in another’s face.
Beauty’s father plucked you once, for grace,
Yet found he lost more than he could bear;
A Beast claimed Beauty, a tight embrace,
The rose grew sharp thorns to clear the air.
What then, of desiring Beauty’s spell?
Set her free and she will love you well.
This sonnet uses Spenser’s rhyme a b a b b c b c c d c d e e.
Published in Frog Croon, Spetember 2011, Issue 8
May 1 and 2
Two five line poems:
My face
Your mirror
Your thoughts
And moods
The frame
~~~~
A cloudy morning
hides the sun
still there
shining brightly
constantly
Marousia 