Poetry

Blue – 20/7/17

Be all the blue you don’t want to see in the sky

That bitter note of sunshine rules the skies

Blow up the water tank the roos don’t mind the bangs

Leave the pieces laying on the dust

Silky dust wanting water and somehow I don’t care

Under the verandah the clouds are gathering

Could this be the end of all we’re hearing now

Or is this the only thing keeping us sane.

All I see of me is my shadow on the wall,

Walking down the hall thudding on worn carpet again.

-zu

Everything I write comes back to the word drought. It’s not the worst word once you get to know it. 

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Poetry

A Ludicrous Limerick, and High-flown reflections while sitting on a water tank, Part I. – 18/3/17

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.
-zu
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
No threat.
Focused on more important things,
Like feathers that the wind sets
Askew.
And a wind that could toss him out of,
A tree full of shivers and sunshine.
-also zu
Poetry, Uncategorized

They came from Cockatoo! A poem.

They lived in the Dandenong Ranges, where the maddest people go,
Along the ridge of the mountains, where the fearsome rivers flow.
I don’t know how they got here, but they would stop and have a chat,
They’d never settle down though, they’d never hang their hat.
We couldn’t do without them, I hate to even try,
I cannot stop the misting eyes, now we have to say goodbye.
They hitched up their yellow caravan, it had but room for two,
But before they disappeared for good, we heard, “We’ll see you in Cockatoo!”

-zu

Our Earth, Poetic Prose, Prose

Hello again!

It’s been a month! So hello! 

Here in Australia it’s getting on towards summer again, my favourite season! And I found this little description I wrote a year or so ago and thought it fitting to share. 😊

ALSO for anyone who read my story of the spread of Paterson’s Curse in Australia you will be either annoyed or happy to know that there is even more of it this year! It may be a pest but paddocks full of purple flowers are still beautiful 😆

 

Summer creeps up slowly. First the winter days seem more mellow, the wind blows less harshly, the sun blesses the land more often.

Then warmth drifts in for a day or two here and there, the trees and plants eagerly bud and bloom, hasty to catch summer. But it’s much too soon for them, the cold and the warmth proceed to play a game of catch-me-if-you-can, here now, caught again, chased back, peeking round that tree.

You can almost hear summer laughing as the merry pair run and chase each other. The paddocks start to turn bright yellow and deep green, rain falls overnight, flowers float out of the air, coming to rest in the welcoming soil, birds build nests, start families and carol unceasingly.

Then one day you turn around and the yellow paddocks have faded, the chase stops and warmth is the new crowned king. He has conquered the cold and now settles in for a long and peaceful summer.

The trees settle their roots in the warming soil, their happy leaves sheltering noisy cicadas and birds flying to and fro, busy feeding their babies. The air is rich in tiny insects. The warmth reaches clear to the bone. Every house has a sprinkler for the kids to play in.

This happy state continues until winter’s cold grows strong in its long exile and comes again to contest summer’s king.

But that, is another story.

-zu

In other news I’m currently reading Go Set a Watchman, the sort of sequel of To Kill a Mocking Bird that has sparked outrage in some parties and mixed feelings in others. Have you read it? What are your opinions of it? 

 

 

One Poem Every Day, Uncategorized

Daily Poem, No. 120 “Lightning” – 13/3/16 (Also, Summer or Winter? Tell me!)

My mum was struck by lightning but I was never scared of storms,

Although everybody seems to love the breeze that summer warms.

I always had a dream, that I would learn to fly,

With thunder above my shoulder and lightning in the sky.

I beg the storm to take me up into the gold and grey,

The wind sings to me so sweetly, till I start to turn away.

I shall walk home through the olive groves and weep, for I’m down here,

While above thunder and lightning dance, there’s not a chance that they can hear.

-zu

Fun fact: my mum really was struck by lightning! Indirectly of course, which is why she survived, with a pretty cool story!  

Also, summer or winter? In this poem I seem to be leaning towards winter but in actuality I love summer best. Which are you? 

One Poem Every Day, Poetry

Keeping the car in a straight line is good,
Don’t want to go to work, but I should.
Will there be biscuits in the shared tin?
No. And so the work day decides to begin.
This isn’t a thoroughly dismal day though,
The cool sun is smiling in a way that I know.
Catch me window hopping, trying to catch,
Each sunny vista, each sunny patch.
In the end it wasn’t hard as it could be,
I scraped it all in, and I’m going home free.
The road dips, curving itself happily,
Along the grassy spaces and past the galaxy.

-zu