tanka – Page 7

A Savant

To be a savant
a cool ring to the title
To be so brilliant,
yet shit at mathematics
Why must it be poetry?

Intricate buttons
skirmish with the little loops
Haphazard dressing
Angry energy rising
Ripping and throwing buttons

the imagining
of a war through the prism of
the old movie screen
they watch, and the terror comes
the sickness of gluttony

two by the river
a hero ready to fight
something creeps closer
distracted by the pussy
the hero’s hamartia

The puddle splashing
She loves to jump for the leaves
a jovial soul
As the years passed, she slowed down
The urge to Heel warmed my heart

the deep Winter day
hanging frost from the window
a single snowflake
falls where we never see snow
a picture of snow falling

the stillness of frost
between the night and morning
ice on the windscreen
in the north, they find summer
the winter comes; spring can wait

a wee ship set sail
o’er the rough waves to Bass Strait
like coins in a jar
the angry sea longs for lives
no lighthouse to calm their nerves

within the umbra
a no one becomes someone
ungodly spells move
fear leaves your decrepit soul
embracing capitalism

under the full moon
not wanting to say goodbye
on that final day
doing deals with the divine
soul sale for another day