Coming and Going – A Ghazal
The hour that drunks meet, rheumy-gaze each other,
lurch apart again, forgotten by morning.
……….
Funds frozen like the favourite pokie on reserve;
music ends, strumming tympanic membranes go on.
……….
I think about the visit to a grave of a friend 17 years dead today.
Reflect on, in fresh air, 6 feet above, the play of bone and sinew I’d never thought of before.
……….
He’s spiked his hair like he’s been hung upside down,
All grubby Converse, Levi jeans, Guevara pretence.
……….
She felt tired Friday morning, even after coffee.
Sunday she rallied; by Wednesday she’d died without speaking.
……….
Checkout girl’s entranced by the boop…boop…boop of passing items,
I see Women’s Weekly have dredged up Diana again with a commemorative DVD.
……….
First words and last words are recalled, what’s said in between is lost;
remembered words ride a character like a flag at half-mast.
poems, prose and pathways
Writer | Artist
Fatos e Curiosidades sobre a natureza e tecnologia
Meditations on Art and Life
"per l' allegria il pianeta nostro è poco attrezzato. Bisogna strappare la gioia ai giorni futuri "
a resource for moving poetry
Linking collage work to the meaning of personal and universal symbols.
This is my adventurous story about buying, designing, and renovating homes in ITALY
Pingback: • Week 21 • Palinode • « 12 Degrees & Skiving