I see the galah in the tree,
The same time he sees me.
We are both perched high,
But I cannot fly,
So he is the first one to flee.
Actually he didn’t flee, so I kept writing.
He was just a baby,
And didn’t know humans are dangerous.
He tilted his head,
And determined me as
Focused on more important things,
Like feathers that the wind sets
And a wind that could toss him out of,
A tree full of shivers and sunshine.
I smell fire but I don’t see ashes,
The smoke is billowing in gashes,
But I don’t care enough to look and see where,
It’s enough just to know that something’s,
Going up in flames
At an end,
With no warning.
Spiralling in smoke,
Out of control.
Choking the sky,
Look, the dark clouds roll.
Do you ever have a song stuck in your head? I’ve found its brilliant to write a poem to the tune, it’s an easy way to plagiarise someone’s rhythm and metre! 😂
Though the wind gales, I breathe.
When the wind sails, I breathe.
If I was in a cave, I would breathe.
If I was riding a wave, I would breathe.
This is not a wonderful discovery,
Not a boastful claim, or a jest.
Just a declaration of fact,
* or I exist.
I want an empty refrigerator, in an empty room.
I want to to fill up my empty refrigerator with all my favourite foods,
While the room gets filled up with knick-knacks, scraps of poetry paper,
What is the first thing you would put in an empty refrigerator?
The almost silent hum of my laptop
Against the pale yellow kitchen light
Is my only friend tonight
And soon I will sleep
In the darkness.
I like the quiet.
The idea of the dust of the earth continuly moving, shifting,
The granite fissures in earth’s skin slowly drifting,
The ground I’m standing on will be gone, and lost,
Reshaped, or blown away, my world is will be tossed.
And I need to hold on, but the earth is not stable,
If my part of the world is not permanent, then how am I able?
Would forever mean learning to jump on shifting sands,
Swimming in the rushing time, letting the dust slip from my hands?