Dancer

May 22, 2014 at 11:24 pm (philosophy, sociology) ()

When I am a dancer,
I spin like a leaf from a bigger tree,
my arms are reaching branches
and my fingers touch all of the world.
When I am a dancer,
as I arc and rise and stretch and curl,
my mind unravels in ancient places
and my dancing soul is free.

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Cooking

May 11, 2014 at 9:20 pm (Poems) (, , , , , )

From our casserole such flavour,
as it’s dipped and spooned and lifted
by nitronic 60 slivers;
from our casserole, such flavour
as it stirs we’ll taste and savour,
coaxed, encouraged, fed and gifted;
from our casserole such flavour:
to new kitchens we have shifted.

In our stew there is a stirring,
time to season our endeavour,
simmered confidence emerging.
In our stew there is a stirring,
definitions changed by learning.
Add some zest and if we’re clever
in our stew there is a stirring:
time to season our endeavour.

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Blown

May 7, 2014 at 5:08 pm (philosophy, Poems, Stories) (, )

Those arcing kites move methodically, marvellously controlled
in Greenwich Park, an acrobatic triumph
only to be wondered at. We clap, whooping praise,
then swift as the man who rises on a freaking gust,
thrust our faces the way of the wind and bluster by.

I think life’s perfect kite flyers floss their teeth,
pit themselves against the elements
and sleep in tessellation. When my vessel breaks
I endeavour to mend it, but gluing beauty
using unsuitable adhesive is rarely satisfactory.

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