never a weakness—
single, silent, stroke of strength
still makes a ripple
Solo
Category: Unplugged
Invading
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk my heels in to the path clawing their way like elbowing soldier limbs snaking braving unknown land into a frozen canvas fifty shades of green a thirty more of brown like monsters fully grown towers rooted on the ground a hoodie fading in the light no other soul within my sight or even a whiff stirring dewdrops on the leaves. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk my heels in to the path barging all along as pindrop in a morgue a crack in peace in a silent dome through outlined arches thousand echoing screeches and a hundred more whispers like black spots on pale face scattered along the maze unnamed birds picking dirt and dropping, as yeast in wort lost in a winter too cold for folks to banter.
Photo: Western Foreshore Park, Lake Ginninderra, Canberra.
Hungry
As child starved all night
tugging at its mother’s heart
laps, laps, lake water
Photo: Lake Ginninderra, Canberra
Procrastinating
Blank and white
ghostly eyes staring into mine
waiting
questioning
every moment inching towards the fire
as pressure grows
on sweating brows
awaiting that drop
red hot and blue
the beginning
of a great evolving tale
a masterpiece
in the making
was indeed still in the making
Blank and white
ghostly eyes staring into mine
judging
silently musing
just another day in the mire
my breath rasps
as the eye gasps
expecting a piece
soft, tender, yet strong
the fruits
of a lifelong struggle
an achievement
much deserved
remains a dream, reality evading
Blank and white
ghostly eyes staring into mine
blinking
minutes passing
falsely assuring in case I tire
for darkness looms
deadline approaches
a story due for tomorrow
real, gripping, and witty
one off solution
to demeaning poverty
yet endures writer, procrastinating
Drink up
old, wise, grumpy
and swimming
heels over head
in tears of past,
consciousness
in a costly drink
The Chaos Within 