Archives for Poetry

Seeking a new dwelling

Seeking a new dwelling   Falling, falling, falling … Hurling through the cosmos, His ineffable wings unfurl to catch the wind As he searches with radar eyes For the perfect place To unearth his new dwelling.   Lower and lower he descends Overlooking the ancient structures of worship: First being Gobeldi Tebe near Sanhurfa. Then onto the Palace of Knossos in Crete, And the Temple of Amas in Nubia. Soaring onward to the Ggantija Temple and the Megalithic Hagar Qim of Malta He next heads off to the Temple of Hatshepsut Beneath the cliffs at Deir el-Bahri of Egypt  –
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Categories: Poetry.

In the Tall Grass

In the Tall Grass     Stretched long in the tall grass Embraced by yellow dandelions And wild purple violets flown from Grandmother’s heavenly garden ˗ His Cat nose sores high To sense the lilac scented breeze While his green Cat eyes Survey his tame domain.   The creak of a near-by opening door Distracts his Cat ears ˗ Searching for the gay women And the two young girls Home schooled, Playing in mid-day alone On unsteady roller blades Along the lazy street.   Echoing through the cacophony Of whirls and shouts and giggles The man in the balcony spews
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Categories: Poetry.

Wandering

Wandering   The climb through meandering rocky paths In open sandals for forty days ˗ Who does that? And why? I ask siting in his rose patterned wing back chair, Now my chair. Here, I expect messages of consolation. The dark nights of the soul on sunny mornings Are incongruous. Can’t get beyond the desolate brown hills Without greenery – Even my green walls give a sense of serenity But the image on the projector screen in the bare church hall, Of the Wanderer, Does not give comfort – only questioning….   Oh, these days we are far more enlightened
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Categories: Poetry.

March Snow

March Snow   White cotton clumps clung on the tree branches beside Her new place, in her new life. The snow had come ˗ again ˗ Unexpected Just as he had come ˗ the evening before, With only the words: and so it goes, And ready for bed …. Not their long bed at the other place But a normal length one in this her place His feet dangling at the base ˗ His lingering arms wrapped round her until she slept ˗ Only woken to the affable aromas: Of eggs sizzling in the blue porcelain-lined frying pan, Of rosemary
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Categories: Poetry.

At Our Doorstep

At Our Doorstep   Pastor asked from the pulpit: “Has the Anti-Christ come?”   Is this the last hour? Can one Deceiver rock the planet Through fanatic nationalism, Spreading Its sinister arms to all those elsewhere? Keep out!   Seen before, so often, so often… Back in the day ‒ Viewed now on black and white films, The transmission of unscrupulous orders, Marching through Europe.   And Europe saw it again. In this time, in this hour. Hordes streaming from far-off, Meandering through distant lands. Meeting closed borders.   Oh, but not here! We want them to come. Begin anew,
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Categories: Poetry.

The Creation of Poetry

The creation of poetry There is no way of knowing, when the art of poetry first began. It is assumed that the origins are steeped in an oral tradition, frequently employed as a means of recording history, storytelling to an audience, perhaps sung, often paying tribute to deities. To aid memorization, there was already a form to these, including rhythm and repetition. When written composition began, it meant poets began to write for an absent audience, though likely scholars. The earliest written work may have been The Tale of the Shipwrecked Sailor which is a story of an Ancient Egyptian’s
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Categories: Poetry.

OWEN’S POEMS from “Reconnecting”

OWEN’S POEMS from “Reconnecting”   If you only knew   When we met by chance In crowded rooms of people ‒ If you only knew.   When we met by chance Alone in empty hallways ‒ If you only knew.   When we met by chance With her, in that small café ‒ If you only knew.   When we met by chance At the station heading home − If you only knew.   When we met by chance In the building where you live ‒ I will tell at last.   Mystery   Often you have passed this way.
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Categories: Poetry.