Nomads
Collage created by my Year 12 students in response to Bruce Dawe’s poetry
~
Australian poet Bruce Dawe
Gives small humanity a voice ~
The gardener in his vegie sanctuary
The street nomads
The ones with naked
Soulless
Eyes ~
Here
Art
Breaks
The silence
Of
Dismissive reality
And gives
All riders in the chariot
Some identity
Some belonging
~
Ferment and Buckets
Pic on Flickr by Gemma Wiseman ~ Mornington beach
Who would know that
Only very recently
A vicious storm
Sliced, dissected and
Crunched
So many boats
Moored just offshore
From this tiny beach
~
Who would know
So many dreams
Disintegrated ~
Masts snapped
Sails shredded
And hulls became just
Fermented
Flotsam chunks
~
Who would know
The violent anger of Nature
Can despoil
Human progress
Faster than a blink
Or a hand clap
~
For today
There are just two tiny children
Playing on winter sands
And life is all about
Sandcastles
And little red buckets
~
Different worlds
Pic on Flickr by Gemma Wiseman ~ Goat at Red Hill, Mornington Peninsula
You may notice
There is a bit of wire
Between us ~
So that means
I guess that
Your world
Is quite separate
From mine ~
But hey ~
You are quite welcome
To feel envious
From a discreet
Distance
~
Combed
Pic on Flickr by Gemma Wiseman ~ Cranbourne Gardens ~ 3
If only life could be combed
So neatly
So uniformly
So predictably
As light and shade
In a controlled environment ~
But then
We would have nothing really
To chat about
Argue about
Whine about
And certainly
No new
Exciting
Unknown
Pathways
To walk
~
Moon shadow
Pic by Gemma Wiseman ~ The mystery of night lights fascinates me. Here is one of my lights taken with a wooden moon that has travelled with me since I left Sydney.
Sleeping in earth lights
Dreaming in the arcs of moon shadows
Bright ochres of human bondage
Slatted and slit
In a sphere
Hovering uncertainly above
Some sunny
Pool
~
Sunday Scribblings prompt #113: curve or curves
A figure of peace
On first waking
On a chilly, wintry, dark morning
When haste waits for the panic
To rise with the alarm of a workday
It is good to pass
A figure of peace ~
A gentle reminder
That it can exist
~
And when night meets the pain of weariness
It is good to pass
A figure of peace
Again
~
Shadows and Dreams
Limpid candlelight
Softens
The shadows
And brightens
The dreams
~
In this liquid glow
The soul sails
In wonder
~
Travelling
Free
~
Cuddly Worlds
Some years ago
The only warmth
And soft closeness
I knew
Came from this guy ~
My giant bear
~
Saturday nights were our best times ~
We would dance together
Round a tiny lounge room
To music
Any music
~
But since then
I have found a very real
“Big Bear” ~
A tall, loving man
Who dances with me
Any day
To any music ~
Any harmony
Any discord
~
So my old partner
Sits lonely in an upstairs corner
Waiting for a night light
To switch on ~
For then I will pass him by
Just before (or after) sleep
And maybe
Remember
~
Tom Thumb Music
A memory
Of old music
Fused and struck
In tiny pieces
Of well-shaped
Intricate
Light
Metal
~
Grey Filters
The dimming of night light
Filtered in grey mystery
Charms
Curses
And cradles
The mystique of
The soul
AuraGem Songlines 