Fucking angry.
Idle teapots hold the answer.
Hand in, punch out;
teapot face.
Category: Poetry
The Woods
Whispers from the woods
Whispering, ‘Come and play.’
Waking from a slumber,
setting out on an adventure.
While many feet move, the
woods hold still waiting.
When she enters the woods,
there are no feelings of malice.
Walking along to a song
she has never heard before.
Whispering sounds calm her
footsteps as they quicken.
Wise and tall, the old one stands
looking at her like her mum.
Wondering, she moves closer,
as the tree comes to life.
Windless leaves seem lifeless,
yet there is magic all around.
Walking through the entrance,
another world awaits
and the leaves of the old
world rustle and wave.
Above your head
Walking up the street,
oblivious to the wind;
skirt above your head.
Naughty Seraphim
Paws pounce in the night
the whispering trees greet the
naughty Seraphim
The Beards
The clippers vanished
long ago when they were boys.
Slowly their beards grew.
Too cold for the birds to nest,
long enough to keep snowflakes.
A Jazzy Night
Distorted vision
a glass of whiskey turned into many
High on the lights
elated by the buzz and the roar of tonight
Dancing with somebody
then wildly dancing with somebody else
Ascending into the morning
taken by the manic vibrations and those eyes
The Flame Tree
We bake in our car
as we drive to Far North Queensland.
The changing landscape
seems to move and breathe with us.
An Illawarra Flame Tree
reminds us of an Australian song.
We stop for a while
to feel the way the wind moves
and
to see the Flame Tree burning.
Susurrous sounds of longing
move through this ancient landscape
and
we take a photograph to remember.
I will & I do
If you are not there,
I will wait for you with a tea cosy on my head
and
seawater beating through my heart,
for you wouldn’t want me any other way,
and
I do not want to be any other way.
The Moor
The rugged old landscape,
I ran across the moor
to see my love once more.
Again, I run across the moor.
The rugged rocky landscape,
called me to run once more.
I run along,
I run along once more,
To see my love along the moor.
Style
A clash of style,
decorating individually,
the house looks confused.
C & K 