Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Being caught

***

Entrapment

/

do spiders ever sleep

or do they spend all night
spinning webs

crisscross
each open path

a lattice of
silk strong
as steel

and by morning
anticipate in shadow
and shade

a network
of weave

catch sunbeams
en-golden

catch me

/

a spider web in the trees

























Somewhat more absent from the web known as the internet lately due to my current love of long walks along park connectors and through nature reserves.  The year is coming to an end and it's generally been a good one, though seems I'm kinda lost when it comes to one's direction in life. I haven't any kind of "dream" if anybody were to ask me what it is. I've been blessed with kind friends this year, but might have also lost connection with a few that seemed unrecoverable. I discovered I dislike certain things yet tolerate them for certain relationships and it just doesn't work out as resentment builds. Funny how the older I get, I seem to be confused about how I am than ever. I love those nature reserves, those trees, the water, all the sounds; when I'm on those walks, just feels good.

Saturday, July 13, 2013

Note: Wordpress Blogs // Why reposting comments is a pain.

I've tried to leave comments on a few wordpress blogs today and yesterday, and they have not seem to register. I'm very annoyed by this.


Thoughtful comments

i

a prickling of emotion,
a finger tip dipping
a stagnant pool of memory

a glass chain linking
understanding
carefully strung into words
in response to words


ii

blind faith for words
to be delivered. is lost
because of a broken script
 in empty space


iii

what I said,
I said so much
it's hard to remember

next time
I will keep it simple

just in case
I have to say it again.


iv

I liked it. I was saying (why)
I like it. and it has effect on me.
   and I'll remember it.


Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Games children play


 ***

Pass the note, begin the silent treatment


Let's pretend she's gone un-visible
and talk about her funny eyEs

laugh at her
                           fu.n.ny

            c
                  r       y


-- it's nothing to cry about
-just-kidding around-
come on now;

let's pretend to cry too/let's pretend to be her friend/lets
give her a hug!


        After lunch,

let's pretend
______ was never here.


***

Sunday, June 2, 2013

Reptiles do not think as we do.


 (...)


A monitor lizard

                ,snake-like,

tongue flicking at
the humid morning air

for molecules
               tastes my being

               coming
before I 
see him;

he creeps
              into a run
 and
        slithers

into the underbrush

I look         for him

         and I see him --
scaly earthy ancient

body and tail
thick
     like the roots
           of a sea-grape tree;

a leathery stonehead with stygian eyes
shiny stares    at

 me

        or is it just the green water
       beyond?

I leave him be.


***
Updated: 8 June 2013

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Quiet, and where to find it in a city that sleeps very little.


***

The space to be

Cars go by every few
sleeper's
exhale;

in between


crickets,  


in between


recalling trees
and mountains.


***

Updated 19th July 2013

Tuesday, April 30, 2013

How Bats Get Through the Day...


(...)


Under a flyover's concrete span,
fruit bats
     hang upside-down

clinging together
in shadow, old-world
creatures rehoming
in an urbanized jungle.

The fruit trees
have been replanted,
the forest reforested,
nature is reserved;

but the caves
are long-gone, made way
for highways
and high-speed trains.


***


Victoria has written an awesome article on the subject on poetic voice on dVerse Meeting at the Bar.  "Your Voice - Let's Hear It." So lets. 

Sunday, March 3, 2013

All the sweet candy of free games


[]

Those little games cost nothing (usually)

It takes a capable mind
to burn time
at both ends;

where is the pause
when at every interlude
between calls

he plays a game?

tap tap...
Up, up score rewards.

tap tap...
away the little spaces for thought.


***


Submitted for DVerse Poetics. An Evening of Short Verse is being hosted by Fred Rutherford. It'd be fun to blog hop today too. :) 

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

It didn't used to rain like this in Feburary.



Going out after the rain has stopped

Rows of diminishing raindrops
hanging on park benches, fences,

leaves, occasionally falling
one-two
       one    (two&one)

falling into
    joining
            puddles

rippling the reflection
of retiring storm clouds

         leaving town;
a young school girl
holds out her hand

palm open to the sky:
all she catches is sunshine.

She steps out remembering
the umbrella in her bag.

                 



***

Work has taken quite a bit of my energy lately. I've decided I'll just ride with the ups and downs.

Friday, February 8, 2013

Given that one has limited time in the evenings


Fragmented TV time

watching TV / playing angry birds
watching TV / i should read a book instead
watching TV / waiting for the news
commercial / loo / water / snacks + crackers

watching TV / surfing the web
watching TV / making a draft, jotting down notes
watching TV / i shouldn't / what am I watching
watching TV / checking facebook / sketching / outlines for a poem

news is on / depressing, new document / outrageous
watching the news / i need a break / one thing at a time! / relax
watching the news / watching the news / bored / just let me play / paint
watching the news / an object -finding game / channel surf / so many games

watching the news / almost time for bed / already half-way there / tomorrow



**This was originally for one of the week's dVerse Poetics hosted by Brian I think. I didn't post it that time because I didn't know what I was doing with it.

Sunday, January 27, 2013

The world is a stage, literally.

 (...)



Sock-puppeteer

Sock-puppeteer
performing roles
siding debate
in his favor.

Mocked and banned,
returns again and again.

Same hands. Same brain.
Different names.



A sockpuppet is an online identity used for purposes of deception. The term—a reference to the manipulation of a simple hand puppet made from a sock—originally referred to a false identity assumed by a member of an internet community who spoke to, or about himself while pretending to be another person.[1] The term now includes other uses of misleading online identities, such as those created to praise, defend or support a third party or organization,[2] or to circumvent a suspension or ban from a website. A significant difference between the use of a pseudonym[3] and the creation of a sockpuppet is that the sockpuppet poses as an independent third-party unaffiliated with the puppeteer. Many online communities have a policy of blocking sockpuppets. - Wikipedia.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

It's like things have been boxed away and forgotten...

****

(...)

Dust blanket
                           the two of us
                           excavating in the attic
                           of a teahouse

break, fine-waltz in brownian drift
as windows are opened
and moth-ravaged curtains drawn
letting in the sunlight;

the room remains stubborn
ash-dull.

                      artifacts containing proof memories -- grandfather stories
                      we recalled in bits

                      told to us when we were children
                      when we can believe anything
                      yet possessed little attention


All the disintegrating
cardboard boxes

stale, rat-nibbled;
silverfish devouring the old
albums and scrapbooks, slither out
vanishing
into the cracks of the deadwood boards.


****


Linked to Open Link Night #79 at dVerse Poets Pub. A toast to all!  (I initially draft this poem in response to Victoria's prompt last week "The Medium is the Message" for Meeting at the Bar. )

Sunday, January 6, 2013

The new verb

 ***

To "Unfriend"


I watched a friend devolve
on the assembly of white boxes,
parading for egos addicted to sharing;

and now she's playing tag --
sharing names with strangers
and best-forgotten ex's;

hurling insults in pixel print,
the monsters escape
and all anyone can do is like it.

I remind myself, these specters
are contained behind the glass
but still

I hover a finger over her name,
unable to decide
the kind of friend I'd be.


***


The definition of "unfriend" according to the Urban Dictionary.

Posted for Open Link Night #78 at dVerse Poet's Pub.

Friday, January 4, 2013

Scent of Tears

(...)


The scent of tears,
its salty breath
saturate the air,

move waves,
black the sea;

swim in and drown,
otherwise, stay

on the beach,
watch the waves,
breathe in the salt.



***
The original was written quite many years back.

Thursday, January 3, 2013

Our constant search and labor

(...)
 
A lack of muse is no excuse

begins a trip to nowhere;

starring down a grey wide open empty road stretching long and sure towards a peach and strawberry sunset,
and everything, even a sewer cover, turns into gold.



***
You might have come across pictures of sewer covers in Instagram and wonder why people take them, if not why they suddenly seem interesting.

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Set on automatic

 ***

PreMonday Start-ups

watching clock ticks flick

gear shifting back to numb-state automaton

safe-keep poetry heart under lock-key

re-routing to routine workday cycle

batteries fully charged to go

forcestart system at 0600 in the morning

login suits by 0800 ironed and ready

logoff day at 1800 in the evening

sleepmode set from indefinite to 2200 at night

***

(edited: Jan 2, 2013; 1400hrs)