Words that sing

Changes

September 4, 2008 · 8 Comments

Yesterday
Deep in the chambers of me
something changed
A microscopic yellow globe sank finally to rest
And the wellsprings of the mist enveloping me
ran dry. Cloud started to lift.
Such a tiny change!

Meanwhile
Above in the tangled net of my mind
Everything changed.
Like taking off the goggles of a virtual-reality nighmare
Or hearing a pneumatic drill relaxing into silence
Or being let out of a too-small space
Into the cool evening of a sweltering day
The world seems changed.

And yet
Out there in the persistence of matter
nothing has changed.
The problems are the same, the stresses and strains
The only change is microscopic, intimate, invisible. And yet
the negativity that poisoned my life yesterday
is gone as if it never existed at all.
Sometimes small changes
are the sweetest.

A poem that follows on from my earlier poems Weeping and Hormonal winter.

Categories: Uncategorized
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Time to leave…

September 4, 2008 · 12 Comments

I’ve written two poems for the latest totally optional prompts, time to leave. Which struck me with particular relevance because I’m due to leave the country where I currently live and work in exactly a month from today.

The first poem I wrote, the second to appear here, seemed a bit bland, though did capture some of what I was feeling. And then I came across the Friday 5 at Poefusion – to write a poem using the words apiculate, sedulous, blisters, pheromones, earmarked. And out came another poem that I liked better.

1:
Time is apiculate
Like a drop of water on a leaf vein I roll
towards the point where I will be
inevitably
flicked into the void.

Each night I awaken many times
my sheets churned in imitation of my paper-littered office
On my bedside desk a notebook dozes
Waiting to grant absolution for these night-time frettings
I scribble down new tasks, gripping the pen
hard enough to get blisters.

And so the new day opens with each hour already
earmarked for another score of sedulous steps
towards the ending.

And yet despite each day’s struggles,
the boulder rolls back, every evening,
with a cargo of new tasks to trouble my sleeping.

Sometimes my tired body
catches a whiff of pheromones.
As if something is waiting for me
beyond these deadline-fenced days. But what?

Is it the scent of the fresh-mown grass
where I will roll with sheer joy
like a horse still sweaty from its just-removed harness?

Or does it presage the scent
of another sort of rolling entirely?

 

2:

Once these winding streets looked new
Waiting to be walked and seen
Once the flawless sky of blue
was a treat, not just routine

Once the flavour of papaya
Welcomed me to my new place
Once I struggled and enquired
And now I babble at a rapid pace

Once my colleagues here were strangers
And now I know them far too well.
Once I was nervous of unknown dangers
Yet habit quickly broke fear’s spell.

How it all looks different, now I know
That very soon it will be time to go.

Categories: living · travelling · writing
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Ripples and clouds

September 4, 2008 · 22 Comments

This ended up in black and white because, in order to get a good exposure for both the sky and the water, I took the photo through my sunglasses, which have a perfect graduated tint in their lenses, but unfortunately turned the whole photo pink!

For Skywatch Friday

Categories: travelling
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