I walked into the apartment
on a turbulent afternoon
in my tiny slice of sky
ominous clouds did loom
the titans were massing
for a deadly contest
but through my small window
I could see no conquest
Poetry days #06.
All work is my own and subject to copyright. I do not use AI. I do not want AI to use my work.
What is that thing you have concealed at the back of the darkest shelf
Mr Unknowable Self
what is it you have hidden away
is it for a rainy day
is it for a special time or special friend to reveal
is it honestly come by or is it something you steal
who are you Mr Unknowable Self
and the secretive part of you
neither pauper nor with wealth
covert and invisible to all including yourself
fearful of understanding
a past that might never heal
committed to hiding away the things not to be revealed
so how are you Mr Unknowable Self
are you content with never knowing
never believing in yourself
will you practice deceit all your life to avoid one likely fact
if you explored the things you don’t want to know
you with yourself
might that make a peaceful pact
so take down that thing from the darkest shelf
open it to the light
make sure it is dealt
with to relieve you of your plight
Poetry days #05. For the online Lysterfield Lake walking map and description I have published on the Victoria Walks web site click: Lysterfield Lake circuit walk
All work is my own and subject to copyright. I do not use AI. I do not want AI to use my work.
Fierce sunshine challenges an emerging breeze,
"Take me on if you will, my radiant expertise".
Breeze stays gentle, slowly brings summer rain.
"Well sunshine, would you challenge me again?"
Poetry days #04.
All work is my own and subject to copyright. I do not use AI. I do not want Ai to use my work.
A rainbow cast its arcing spell
across the horizon from hill to dell
sweet colours did the people see
I saw an enchanted mystery
from where I stood the vivid arch
did move as I moved across the path
no matter how I tried to catch its base
it slipped from me with every pace
I could not solve this riddle before me
for it faded, just as magically
as it appeared in pastel splendour
and so my query had to end there
Poetry days #03.
All work is my own and subject to copyright. I do not use AI. I do not want AI to use my work.
The red back pack was already second hand
bought cheap from an opp shop by a hiking man
it’s straps were a bit frayed
it’s colour a bit faded
the brand now out of favour
but it still had years of wear
there were pockets for liquidity
and pockets for your water
pockets for snacks
and a wear pocket for nadir
but if you kept that pocket closed
there was nothing there to fear
there were pockets for your clothing
pockets for rain and sleeping gear
there was a pocket for a journal
and a way to quickly reach a camera
because recording of life’s journey
involves equipment for ephemera
it had seen through a lot of windows
it had been through many a door
it had heard so many a tales
it couldn’t remember them all anymore
it had walked the tracks and trails
of many countries around the globe
such that it's experiences
never felt far from home
but it was ready for new adventures
to be up and about again
it was only a matter of time
before the hiking man said when
Poetry days #02.
All work is my own and subject to copyright. I do not use AI. I do not want AI to use my work.
Shafts of sunlight break up the gloom
into luminous green rainforest rooms
every moist step and touch of the earth
another experience of the wonder of life
Photography days #05. You can find the Goodenia walking map and description online at Victoria Walks: https://walkingmaps.com.au/walk/5756
All work is my own and copyright applies. I do not use AI. I do not wish for AI to use my work.
For the full map and description I have published on Victoria Walks’ walking maps click here: https://walkingmaps.com.au/walk/5755
Photography days #04. All work is my own. I do not use AI.
You gave my day a lift
with the words you gave me as a gift
and the things you did
I don’t know if you knew
but especially coming from you
I took them straight to heart
and I’m grateful for your part
in making my day special
right from the very start
that was a nice thing that you said
and nice things that you did
Poetry days #01. Find the path here: https://www.nationalparks.nsw.gov.au/things-to-do/walking-tracks/mount-kosciuszko-summit-walk
All work is my own and subject to copyright. I do not use AI. I do not want AI to use my work.
Just confirming I'm the right bird in the right place
Lakeside - check
Reed beds - check
Tasty aquatic life - check
Big grey bird, yellow legs, long neck, spear like beak, white face.
This photo was taken while creating a lakeside accessible walking map for people who use mobility aids. You can view it here: Edwardes Lake Accessible Walk.
Photography days #03. All work is my own. I do not use AI.
A photo a day #02.
Walking the Strathbogie Ranges has many rewards. The landscapes, waterways and native flora are simply beautiful.
A gallery of 10 images. To see the full photos click an image, then use the arrows to scroll.
Dad laughs at his own jokes
children cringe and feign embarrassment
dad adds tickles and finger pokes
children claim harassment
and everyone shares miles of smiles
at table, play or from the floor
as dad persists all the while
cracking jokes more and more
"Don't encourage him!" everyone says
as dad scores another score
laughter turns into donkey brays
as belly laughs stretch the jaw
the fun settles slowly and aching cheeks
from grins as big as the moon
will be remembered for weeks and weeks
secretly,
we wish to hear more dad jokes soon
For this week’s dVerse poetics prompt Mish gave we poets licence to consider any aspect of laughter we choose. Believe it or not, sometimes I can set the house on fire with the quality and machine gun delivery of my Dad jokes. I just can’t understand why everyone present groans so much and pleads with me to stop!
The most recent instalment of the very local Newsletter I edit for our community.
I am unconvinced of spring
for winter still is here
despite the dates
there’s fire in grates
and a chill wind cold and clear
no green shoots have emerged
in fact the ground is bare
not moist and soft,but hard and dry
grass brown from frost and rare
the birds are still very quiet
the animals briefly appear
the skies are heavy and silent
rain and sleet is always near
clothes are layered and warm
boots are waterproof and thick
beanies and hats are permanent
raincoats and parkas are slick
and in amongst this extension
of winter into spring
I just want to mention
this weather makes me sing
Apologies dVerse - I linked the wrong poem. Try the next one.
Where the river meets the sea
I’ll wait patiently
until your ship comes in
carrying you to my smiles
we’ll walk the miles and miles
to a place to begin again
upriver to where small streams
become the water of river dreams
where meadows grow green under
skies of sun and thunder
there we’ll settle on high ground
ever fertile and sound
we’ll labour to work the earth
and give a family birth
a family that will grow
to work together and sow
under that mantle of blue and grey
after years and many a day
we will turn to each other and say
the life we chose has been a good one
as good as the river is long
to its banks we will continue to go
hand in hand
watching the river flow
Like paper to the wind
my thoughts I scatter here
unable to rescind
I let them travel where
I know not what they’ll achieve
succeed with or accomplish
I fear they’ll find readers
with care only to admonish
then there is the question
why bother anyway?
so many smarter and stupider minds
have so much more to say
and louder voices
because they so often agree
to speak their thoughts
only to celebrity
a different purpose is theirs
to be heard no matter what
without the necessity
of thinking intelligently
of sharing something
of value they have got
I speak simply
of observations
of thoughts I mull over
instead
I speak of imagery
of the wonders of earth
that crowd
inside my head
Fragile like a bubble floating gentle on a breeze
uncertain airy eddies dropping it and raising it with ease
a dip toward a branch and a child waits for it to pop
breath held eyes wide standing still mid hop
then it spirals up just before the moment
a random push to nowhere special
rescued by chance
bound only by circumstance
the brittle coloured shiny shell wafer thin and precious
we await another chance buffeting the waiting is delicious
to influence things the child waves hands and blows with her small mouth
she hopes to help it survive the ground disaster beckons from the south
her little puffs send fragile bubble in unintended directions
she watches amazed the effect she has on the subject of her affection
her will her thought her decision to act on the outcome she desires
embolden her to further acts beyond bubbles she aspires
eventually the bubble pops its streaky rainbow skin
we both sigh in satisfaction at its inevitable oily end
as it bursts in prism lit spray asunder
the fragile bubble also releases wonder
the child and I are compelled to create more of these globular gems
to see what control we can exercise what we can contrive with them
such is human life
Feeling jaded I walked around the block on one of those particularly clean and crisp Melbourne autumn mornings
the type only Melbourne seems to have
the sun was bright and immersively warm every time you emerged from cold dark shadows
the sky was a spectacular sky blue blue blue all the way to the top
everything was precisely defined like it had been edged with the blackest finest fine liner pen
I found a banksia bud on the ground and picked it up for closer examination
nature had loaded it with deep brown lidded eyes in a repeating pattern designed to go on forever
lighter brown probosci with vivid tan tips emerged from between each eye and the nett result was glorious
awe and wonder
jaded faded
lovers
a contradiction
the joyful anticipation of time spent together is heightened by the inevitability of separation
whether one waits for the other to arrive or the timing is perfect
buoyant hearts rush to the coming
the anticipation of separation casts a shadow over time spent together
time to dread and then watch the leaving
heavy hearts drag at the going
both will love and hate the preoccupying delirium of the in between
lovers
linger and pine long
The sun is a furnace around which we orbit. It sits in space 152 million kilometres away, providing just enough heat to keep our planet and its inhabitants alive. Every time I recognise this fact I have the same response – what are the chances? WOW!
This is a fantastic day walk in the Victoria High County near Mansfield. Autumn laid on a delightful smorgasbord of wildflowers and clear skies. For the full map, photos and description see my online publication here: https://walkingmaps.com.au/walk/5822
Man
built over grassland
built into sky
built atop mountains
to nature defy
built into forest
built under water
built in the desert
built bricks and mortar
built with cut wood
built with the earth
never understood
non stop building is death
every built patch a carnage
every built patch an ending
every built patch a destruction of what nature would have seen
every built patch an obliteration of what nature could have been
In the not too distant future
things will begin to disappear
human things
cultural things
things like genuine creative work
design, construction, music, literature, imagery, art
and
not much later
human well-being
Instead
they will be by-passed
replaced by data mined
composites
of all these things
that went before
--------------------------------
Concepts and constructs
developed by
any human individual
are exclusively
part of
the human condition:
..... human creativity
Such human
processes and creation
are
being systematically
misappropriated
for the purpose
of
profiteering
by mere replicants
for mere replication
to satisfy
uncontrolled
greed
and
aspirations
of the few
at the expense
of
the many
This application of AI
is not good for
individual human
health or well-being
This application of AI
is not good for
societal
health or well-being
This application of AI
will undermine
the survival of
human
civilisation
This is not likely
to be a road
from which humanity
can return
General Intelligence
is the next stop
Where humanity will be asked
either politely or forcibly
to get off the bus
….. walk toward the mirage
….. and disappear into it
This crumbling old bridge was once an entrance to the town
but these days another road goes another way around
and the old bridge isn't even a walking bridge today
as its rotten frame collapses in an advanced state of decay
I'd like to see we walkers reclaim this historic bridge and road
reimagined and rebuilt it would easily take that load
we would walk both sides of the water accessed by its span
travel both embankments knowing we safely can
return by the old bridge to where we began to roam
enjoying nature's reclaimed beauty right here by our town
poetography.ink 