Water water
in that hole
I see water in that hole
been so dry a heavy toll
now I see water in a hole
drinking drinking
drinking up
I keep drinking hands a cupped
all that water it’s going down
I keep drinking though it’s brown
walking staggering
just how far
to another waterhole reservoir
the door of hope is now ajar
waterholes be my repertoire
heat and sun
pounding down
no further waterhole to be found
in the lee of boulders I go to ground
to die in shade without a sound
Cockatoos walk the walk
they are smart and bold
they talk the talk
human or squawk
they are social and caring
for others in the flock
they live for decades
100 years they can clock
It has been a long, harsh, hot summer. Softening autumn light is finally here. Hopefully, consistently cooler weather is to follow soon.
I wonder if I will ever get back on my bikes
free to ride wherever I like
living with arthritis is a constant pain
I do hope I get to ride again
luckily I can write to fill my time
put some cycling photography into rhyme
All work is my own and subject to copyright. I do not permit AI to use my work.
Talk to me about the sea
of sand drift and sea breeze murmurings
of tidal sliding and wavelets gliding
onto a peaceful shore
of curling surf and whale songs
of towering waves and sailor’s graves
of a blow driven chop hard to cross
and the constant desire for more
of rock pool eddies of a wind unsteady
of sudden squalls and risking all
of unpredictable storms defying norms
of salty landless freedom
of reflected moonlight and sunsets bright
of dolphins playing and albatross staying
of cutting the water and catching fish
of life in Neptune’s kingdom
of thunderheads piled high or a cloudless sky
of seabirds arriving splashing and diving
of phosphorescent wake so easy to take
of distant horizons all around
tell me tales about the briny sea
how to travel a weather filled journey
crossing oceans wide upon the tide
and I’ll take you where I’m bound
Hooting to acknowledge
others hunting there
camouflaging plumage
prey beware
soundless flight
beak and claws to tear
night vision adept
anywhere
hooting acknowledges
others hunting there
dancing with abandon
a nightclub lair
drinking jugs of alcohol
teeth are bared
faux charm awooing
without care
De Jackson from dVerse asked we poets to post a Quadrille (44 word poem) using any form of the word “hoot”.
Did you see the seagull
standing on the lamp post
looking at the scenery
taking in the view
ooh ooh
The chairs were blue and black
the floor was speckled grey
the squat square tables
were printed wood grain
with aqua painted rays
most of what was said at the tables was untrue
the rendezvous of lovers
straight or gay affairs
were clandestine betrayals
nothing here was fair
the wilful and the wicked
the ribald and those plain dumb
came together here
for more pain or simple fun
few considered the consequences of their lies
there was a girl slender
a blonde slash across her her chest
a long ponytail from her shoulder
hung between her breasts
her sharp pencilled brown eyebrows
contradicted her eyes
which were as ill defined
as concrete slurry skies
dull grey as shattered shale
they certainly lacked registration
of the interest of the boy opposite
of his panting or condition
she was as forgiving as she was a true blonde
her date was a smallish young man
with waves of cascading auburn hair
framing a long straight nose
above a jutting jawline where
underneath his struggling beard
his tongue would have been hanging out
if it wasn’t for his jutting jaw
of that there is no doubt
he tried to be interested in her words
but a lusting body made him waver
he talked in a desperate way
with a flushed look and a quaver
there was nothing honest about the words he had to say
the family with the teenage daughter
amused she wanted gin
insisted she drink water
but the barman slipped it in
after a few more gins were taken
he met her later outside
her innocence was lost
as he took her for a ride
ashamed at her naivety ever after she denied
the chefs wore haircuts
chiselled short back and sides
engraved by the cutter with glyphs
that meant nothing but misguided pride
everyone of them had a goatee
of one length or another
growing wiry out of cratered skin
and a top knot tied with leather
these bound them all as brothers
but this was no family they were in
they fried, they tossed and flipped
like cooking still food was a sin
most of that was kitchen trickery
it was only for the show
to impress all the customers
who didn't care or want to know
the "Only the freshest ingredients" sign was blemished and rotting
the waitress was run off her feet
she had black skin and a black tank top
she looked trim naked and neat
and nothing could make her stop
her apron was black
it was stiff as a card
her cheekbones were ebony
razors high and hard
her gold plastic glasses
amplified deep black eyes
that reflected artificial moons
from the fake silvery sky
skimming the muddy boards
a note pad for orders clear
she attended to demand
pencilling a multi ear-ringed ear
everything she told customers was fiction
the ceiling was low the ceiling was false
the abundant cupboards were bare
the cash drawer opened with a jolt
the counterfeit was there
behind a dado of artificial pine
casual bar staff were busy mixing
the bar top a deep black lacquered shine
liquid with glasses spilling and clinking
the spirit shelves held coloured water
the air was synthetic scented air
the alcohol was inferior elixir
the bar tenders challenged with a stare
every stare they glared was full of contempt and deceit
everyone in the room was scared
scared of honesty
scared of respect
scared of integrity, dignity and truth
scared because they were there
to be looked at
scared to look
scared of the culture that
required they all pretend
scared to be
someone else in the end
RL 21.500 is a line in the sand
between two opposing camps
which one will make the first move?
it is going to happen AAM
(At Any Moment)
don't look away
or you might miss it
I was loitering on the corner after friends had dropped me there
I didn’t go nowhere because I was scared
I felt it coming a fright and a fear
as if it was my last year
and when it finally fell upon me the anticipated dread
I wished I had stayed at home in my warm and cosy bed
the devil in his black coat to me he came and said
I’m gonna frame you
I looked around but I couldn’t see anything of a crime
I waited there longer I waited some extra time
there was nothing to give me a clue no flashing sign
that my whole world was a turning
when she pulled up in her long bright shiny yellow hearse
I avoided her stare as if it was a curse
but eventually she prevailed with a promise to reimburse
me for my trouble
we drove to the mountain right to the very top
when we got there she made the hearse come to a stop
right at the edge by a long steep drop
I exclaimed I was scared of heights
she got out of the car came round and opened my door
I didn’t see her coming cos I was looking at the floor
she pulled me out with the strength of two or three or four
and dumped me on the dirt by the barriers
I struggled as she prepared to throw me into the abyss
but then she bent to give me my first Judas kiss
I knew what was coming so I ducked and she missed
I pushed her in the chest
and she swayed backwards
little did I know that she would unbalance then
I watched her teetering on the edge until when
she fell to her death
just as god sent
me a message
he said to get out of there because things weren't looking pretty
I didn’t need no message I as tore across the city
my mind was in turmoil full of self pity
I found a little hideaway a little dirty a little gritty
and laid low until things blew over
ever since that day I’ve been creeping around the town
all nervous and alone again I’ve been going round
worried the cops would do me over and when I would be found
but my life became fortunate and stable
the lord moves in mysterious ways around my little hangout
but in my mind there really is no skerrick of a doubt
he saved me twice from death and the devil without
my ever understanding anyways how or about
I ever got to be in so much trouble
the stealth tram
nobody can
catch easily
because in camouflage
it arrives stealthily
When trouble comes an immediate aggressive reaction such as an emotionally driven attack often appears to be a satisfyingly vengeful, moral or honourable response.
Alternatively, assessing risk and acting accordingly makes good sense, responding mindfully and proportionately. Maybe a change to your behaviour, a tweak of an existing plan. Maybe putting your head down for a while, keeping your nose clean, waiting for things to blow over before again checking the lie of the land.
So, try to take a breath, just a moment, weigh up the immediate consequences. We all have to survive to achieve anything.
The longer term strategic approach may not harm your perceived opponent in the moment, cover you in glory or restore your honour. However, it may well deliver the most satisfying and right outcome for the future accompanied by enduring benefits.
Mr Trump, how smart are you really? Making America Great Again appears to have been a smart and useful local catchcry for getting elected to power in the present. It will mean nothing if you don't choose to work with other global leaders to save the whole planet for the future!
Budding native Daphne
very quickly had me
on my knees
if you please
with camera focussing
happily
In forests we go walking to find the time for talking
to take us away from the city hustle ever stalking
I meet you on love’s wings at the perimeter of meadows
and I love you all the more as we enter soft green forest shadows
we take the paths less trodden to open new forest doors
we find our way to high places to meres and rugged moors
the ferns they point our way with glistening fronds a waving
guiding us through the timeless forest we find ourselves a weaving
hand in hand we travel each a lovestruck wandering Gypsy
this time this place alone together precious magical and carefree
sun rays light the glades with golden shafts of wonder
we look aloft, laugh and dance beneath the forest grandeur
we lie down on forest beds and let our fingers do some walking
our hands our lips our tongue tips put a silence to the talking
again the language of forest love begins and with it our renewal
I’ll always be your forest love you my cherished forest jewel
when the forest loving is done and we must find our way back home
we’ll look forward to more forest talking and forest loving yet to come
white crane meets blue glass
red coils and tram lines
stop look can't pass
compose image and refine
photo taken general view
enjoy the process
and the shot too
I looked at you
you looked at me
I looked back again
I sensed that you were asking if I was your friend?
without Alpaca words to say so, I decided to move on
I enjoyed our time together but there were other things to be done
F35 jets
for billions of dollars
deliver on death
F35 jet
deadly grace and fire power
foe to nature's set
F35 jet
redundant high tech fighter
or required asset
It's the last days of summer
and the water still looks great
for the last days of swimming
before the hot weather fades
Said she I’ll follow the sun
and when the following is done
I will have my release
Said he I’ll wait for you
and when the waiting is done
together we’ll find peace
She followed the sun
and followed the sun
never finding the end of her quest
He watched the horizon
every day of the week
every evening again dispossessed
The sun never shirked
its purpose lighting the day
rising and setting as it should
This man and this woman
staked their futures on the sun
but it’s purpose they never understood
On any given day
the water might be blue or grey
when it is grey my mood is somber
the heavy clouds I watch and ponder
but with breaking sunshine my spirits lift
enchanting me such a precious gift
changing my mood to a brighter hue
while turning the water the sweetest blue
No one could say why they were there
the brigades the battalions and some
in neat formed lines in neat clean uniforms they had come
they marched on the parade grounds and through the big cities
they trained in the fields out front of towns
they ran through the wires to get to their goals
they fell to the mud all mown down
and their neat uniforms were ragged and torn
their clean faces running with blood
the muck of the battlefield filled their boots and their minds
their assault waves were a simple flood
the pretending of training faded from view
as their numbers fell to the few
the bulllets and shrapnel stopped forward forays
as they scrambled to avoid injury or death every day
as they cried and they died under the sun
until there were none
Laughing from the rooftops
the gargoyles showed their contempt
for everything and everybody
who underneath them went
they giggled at the minister
they chuckled at the police
they split their sides at you
they saw kids as light relief
I wondered at what had tickled them
to so humoured be
when everything at which they laughed
was everything they could see
poetography.ink 