Warm skin prickles
gooseflesh over skin
Words left unsaid
leaves scar tissue
Warmth left unsung
holding on to winter
Words left unspoken
leaving on the wind
Tag: blog
The Viking King
Dressing up with friends,
he is Ragnar Lodbrok
the Viking King.
With a helmet from Bunnings,
a shield from the kitchen and
a vacuum cleaner hose for a sword,
he fights invisible battles.
All fired up, he attacks the
kitchen cupboards,
harasses the cats,
pretends the lounge is the sea,
and drives Mum up the wall.
Heartless Society
We were the ones always taking action,
being the first to break taboos,
never afraid of what others thought.
Now we hide behind computer screens,
cook food most people will never taste,
think about moving up the social ladder.
We got caught up in a materialistic society,
moving closer to aggressive, heartless society;
fighting to make another dollar, and survive.
Zen & Starlight
Letting the self go,
sitting staring at the sky,
feeling the firelight.
Letting the conversation
flow between zen and starlight.
Desires
A gloved hand, a bracelet, a smile;
Behind those starlit eyes, many desires.
A reality, the ways of hair, a smile;
Behind that skin there are no lies, only desires.
A beauty, grace, charm, a smile;
Behind those bright eyes, longing desires.
Ibrat
Different opinions,
ways of living life;
too much water
under the bridge.
Unable to visit, not
wanting to see him;
he’s not the Father
you idealised, loved.
Years passed, water
passed, life passed;
no time felt right to
go and visit, talk.
You felt it before it
came; a knowing;
a death too quick
for you to digest.
He danced with
death deliberately
on his own; no time
to give anyone time.
You made your peace
with him on the telephone;
he said he has beautiful
children, then the guilt.
Another Ibrat for you to
understand, to learn from;
sitting here looking at
his box filled with ashes.
Incense
Hidden underneath,
yet glimpses of those
eyes, lips, hair, beauty.
Before me, she stands,
a marble statue forever
etched into my memories.
Thoughts of Catholicism
from childhood days
burn through my heart.
Burning candles, flowers,
the smoke of incense,
her ecstasy on my skin.
A wanting, like a Giovanni
Strazza, as the pew bends,
candles flicker and vision fades.
A Favourite Cushion
Australian Landscapes
Big stars burn down from the sky,
the moon lights part of the way.
Bronzed grass lines the streetscape,
this land is crisping under the sun.
Blossoms on the breeze do smell,
as a lost memory emerges, & forms.
Big stars burn down from the sky,
the moon lights part of the way,
so I walk to the end of the street.
Black sky, big stars, a bright moon;
the hills sit in luminous shadows,
no cows moo at this time of night.
Bronzed grass lines the darkened
hills flowing beyond the shadows,
to remind me of other landscapes.
Blossoms on the breeze do smell,
reminding me of the landscapes
of my life and how the landscapes
of this land changed me over time;
how this land’s landscapes change.
A New Chapter
A new chapter, a new life;
perceptions became heightened by
experience and a point of view.
A new chapter, the same life;
perceptions are filled with
the vibration of notes and your many dreams.
A new chapter, an old life;
perceptions are clouded by
sorrow-filled memories and your many ghosts.
C & K 