Time Peace
Dad collected clocks; meticulously winding, checking, synchronising.
Marvelling in the mechanism, ‘listen,’ he beseeched, and held us still,
as simultaneous hours struck irreplaceable moments.
With reckless disregard we hurtled through time;
complex histories mocking Dad’s imparted precision.
Still he held us – a permanent pivot in a plethora of progress.
Alarm bells rang when Dad’s clocks collected dust;
A family epoch ending, we watched his equilibrium tip.
Though pendulums slow, time must pass. We were ready at last.
Still now, we listened, and held our father close as time wound down.
Making Tracks
Columns of beaten Crustacea, we shift across hot sand
carrying each one pinch determination to abandon land
throw anxious glances back to check we’re unobserved
in our last gasp endeavour to stage a smooth return.
Curved carapaces arching toward the pulling tide
cracked pincers raised, we dance our sidewards glide
treading warily, alien slapping waves in this aftermath
of countless million years without the saline bath.
Yet as murk and weed permeate marks of failure and despair
we leave the crooked path as if we were never there.
Parrot
I
am a bright green parrot hiding in the leaves.
You
cannot always see my brilliant colours.
I
am not tethered to a particular tree, leaf or twig.
I
do not shift according to your mood.
I
speak in swirls, but sometimes you only hear me squawk.
You
need not listen.
I
am no less lovely when your heart is closed.
Reach
Come as you are
Over the ether
Miraculously
Pay your ticket
Let pain drive
Express travel
Xenomorph
Must dare to hope
All together now
Stand with me, see?
Stand with me.
Summer
Performing players string and bow
under rumbustious sun umbrellas
propelled against the rain.
Clouds cracked by lusty voice
spill over bastion hills.
And we, joyous in our hour;
splendid wined and friended,
briefly bloom and rise to stir the air:
Balloons and buttercups.
Whistler
A beached drifter
transcends undefined horizons
of personal lost tides.
Ankles crossed,
upstaged by caffeine conversation,
he smiles.
Unhurried,
lip-cracked penny whistle raised,
waits his moment.
One note,
barely audible, sustained,
compelling.
Emotions opening,
wrung out Earth begins to crumble.
Listen.
Inspiration
I am with you now
fingers pushing against your bones
weaving and knotting vibrant fibres
through and over your cortex hills
sifting flowing
pressing your chin wrinkling your cheeks
cascading through valleys
of intense dreaming.
*
I do not see you.
As I surface, you shrink away,
diluted by functionality.
You are cayenne pepper, nettles:
witty, surprising.
Crawling, turning, I snatch at nought
and wait for darkness.
