Killing the Roses
Cutting them from their life force
Beautiful petals
Roses guided by design
Stems do stab the oasis
Spring Morning
blur of the morning
too much sun in my old eyes
the crisp spring winds move
Faroe Dreaming
A picture of the Faroe Islands on the screen.
Work calls you back, yet the picture leaves you with a monetary conundrum: to walk away or stay.
Wind chiselled landscapes of rugged rock, green and the ever-present sea moving in and around.
You stay for your cat, yet long for the sea.
Hot Gas
Hands raised from the tiny pinnacle to a jeering crowd.
His lips flap, and his turkey neck does a little dance, as the crowd gathers momentum.
Talking nonstop about himself, he begins to sublimate until all that remains is hot gas.
The crowd, stunned into intelligence, retreats.
Wombatonia
They embraced the illegitimacy of the government’s rule.
Instead of protesting, they created their own micro-nation.
The Lord and Lady of the one-kilometre kingdom fly their own flag with a coat of arms which consists of a white escutcheon, a wombat, and a gold crown.
Botanic Garden
imperfect roses
scrutiny and muffled sighs
Refund our money
Dear Leader
He speaks to the crowd.
The voice, a sonorous velvet music
lifting the heathens.
Several tongues trace longing lips,
hanging on every word.
He passes judgement.
The crowd become a frenzied mob.
Possessed by his rapture,
they inflict such malicious violence.
Caprice
exposed in the snow
an unguarded fantasy
Snow falling on skin
whimsical pagan caprice
unbelieving, unknowing
Lunch Break Thoughts
Watching the way the wind blows through the blooming buds of the ornamental pear trees.
I feel the petals, twigs, and random wrappers brush past my cheeks and legs.
The eventuality of my circumstances is within those random wrappers moving in the wind.
Living within the walls of an office was never for me.
The Bellwether
forgotten in hues
the bellwether of no one
talking to the sea
C & K 