AUSTRALIA ~ The Antipodes

AUSTRALIA ~ The Antipodes
I love a sunburnt country / A land of sweeping plains / Of ragged mountain ranges / Of droughts and flooding rains / I love her far horizons / I love her jewel-sea / Her beauty and her terror / The wide brown land for me / ~ Dorothea Mackellar (1885-1968)


Wednesday, April 30, 2008

National Poetry Month sighs to a close

Pic on Flickr by halo_prints ~ Dusseldorf by the river
And so ends the month of pushing a poem a day. I wrote about 70 odd poems and posted, I think, 69 of them.

Meanwhile my son is leaving Dusseldorf and heads for Brussels before finally returning to Australia via maybe Amsterdam and maybe Paris. (So he says!) But he has less than a week to do all that, so we'll see!

I have no idea about tomorrow. I was thinking about writing a poem about a horse I see every morning. He is always sleeping by his favourite tree when I pass. But the new bigger and better highway is getting closer and closer to him. Soon, he will be right in the way.

This morning, I saw him having a quiet nuzzle with a another horse near his fence line. All I could think of was poetry; a poem about horses sharing secrets.

Hmmmmmm Possibly it is good National Poetry Month is over after all.

Wonderland Wine

Pic from Claudia Rubinstein ~ Forest Glow
Poefusion's prompt ~ Inspired by Emily Dickinson's Bring me the sunset in a cup
Seat me in a hammock of sanctuary
Deep in some ancient garden ~
Let me dine on an entree of florals ~
Heady floral shades and tones
Fanned by waves of green
Let me bask in a menu of bird and windsong
With a sidesalad of
Atlantean heavens
May a gelato orchard
Of exotic fruits
Be dessert~
Like sparkling sorbet jewels
On a rainbow flavoured bridge

And may there be a wine
A precious deep wine
Well matured in the darkest recesses
Of my spirit
Waiting to be uncorked
To breathe awhile
In limpid ecstasy
Pour a little of me into the wineglass
And let me enjoy
Being locked
In a wonderland
That is only mine

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Wild Streak

Pic on Deviant Art by killorcast ~ Light streak along Edsa Highway, Manila
Two for Tuesdays prompt ~ lesson streak
Like a wild lesson
Sliced with a glowing hot streak
Like rich, deep darkness
Knifed with a kaleidoscope
Of burning, living hell's coals
Hollow midnight hours
Time to face inner demons
Time to contemplate
Time to wonder on secrets
Time to close Pandora's box


Pic from All Posters
This poem is a cento using lines from T.S.Eliot's Selected Poems
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Among the smog and fog of a December afternoon ~
The burnt out ends of smoky days
I journeyed to London, to the timekept City ~
An old man in a draughty house
His soul stretched tight across the skies
Impatient to assume the world
Under the penitential gates
Unreal city
The pleasant whining of a mandolin
In the twilight kingdom
The eyes are not here
And avoid speech
Of empty men
Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
Teach us to sit still
We are the hollow men
In death's dream kingdom
This is the time of tension between dying and birth
Dust in sunlight and memory in corners
Shadow of its own shadows, spectre in its own gloom
All our knowledge brings us nearer to our ignorance

Monday, April 28, 2008

More than a pillar of sand

Pic on Photobucket by kbware7 ~ ATT10~ Sandcastles
If I surround myself with beauty
Perhaps I can appear beautiful again ~
There is a rose ~
Languid petals
Almost floating
Like an anemone ~
And there ~
And there ~
Perhaps a daisy or two ~
But I like the one
Not far from my draped hand ~
Do you see what looks like
A sweet
Tiny shell ?~
I think of
Atlantis ~
That island you think is fantasy
But I know
Is real
You see
Not far from this island
I was born ~
Born of the sea ~
In fact
You know who I am ~
I am that beauty
That lover
Who charmed men
(And gods) ~
My beauty was legendary ~
What you see now
Are just sands of my former self
Born of the sea
To the sea I must return ~
This is my moment
For sandy waves
To be real
For the sea to take me home
Home to be foam ~
And once again
I can be

Sunday, April 27, 2008

Sacred Circles

Pic by Linnie Stepping Stone ~ Southern Thailand

Pic by David J. Bookbinder ~ Flower Mandalas

A circle orbits our cosmic space
Weaving a still, sacred cocoon
The essence of this holy place
Fuses evolving times and landscapes
Like Spring becomes Spring again
Like a child becomes the joy of wonder
Like refreshed happiness in a sun shower
Like a reflowering of the whispering soul
Just a little sand, a lowly twig
And a yearning to circle the stars
FOOTNOTE: MANDALAS have been used the world over as symbolic representations of the Cosmos as it relates to the Self.The word "mandala" comes from a sanskrit root meaning "enclosing the essence" - and therefore "sacred circle". Indeed mandalas are round in shape and they provide us with a magic circle, a circular and holy ground, a cocoon where we can safely and efficiently perform self-transformation and cosmic fusion.C. G. Jung observed that, towards the end of a successful therapy, mandala-like images would appear in dreams & in artwork as if to express an experience of completion: the patient had become "rounded up", whole and the psyche was unified, balanced. Is it a coincidence if "circle" and "cycle" are close linguistic parents ? Being circles, mandalas are displaying the reoccurring cycles of evolution and they always tend to appear at the end / beginning of a cycle, be it individual or collective. As symbols of the psyche, mandalas continuously speak a language of Self-Centeredness within the personal wheel of life and of Self-Integration within the grand scheme of transpersonal realities.
"The power of the world always work in circles and everything tends to be round"...
Starwheels by Aya
Tibetan monks create beautiful sand mandalas and then, part of the celebration, is to erase them when they are complete, so they may be done again. And a simple mandala may be created in the sand with just a twig.
Mandalas are the essence of turning full circle.

Borrowed Wisdom, Coloured Insights

Pic from Nature Artists ~ Judy Scotchford, Brisbane, Australia ~ represents the San people of Namibia.
Nominated by UN as the best Poem of 2006 -
Written by an African kid (writer's verbatim retained)
When I born, I black
When I grow up, I black
When I go in Sun, I black
When I scared, I black
When I sick, I black
And when I die, I still black
And you white fellow
When you born, you pink
When you grow up, you white
When you go in sun, you red
When you cold, you blue
When you scared, you yellow
When you sick, you green
And when you die, you grey
And you calling me coloured??

RESPONSE: Our "white" rainbow is rusty
It needs a good spit and polish


The ANZAC fires still burn

Pic on Photobucket ~ Water by A0909
Beneath the last evening fires
Rippling waters darken
Some weary travellers turn home
In the heartland of being
Rippling waters darken
Secret loneliness deepens
In the heartland of being
War is a cold place
Secret loneliness deepens
Plummeting unknowns
War is a cold place
Love is torn
Plummeting unknowns
Eternal pain
Love is torn
Soldiers never win
Silent tears
Beneath the last evening fires
Fragile shadows in the candlight
Some weary travellers turn home
FOOTNOTE: This poem is a symbol of respect for the recent Australian ANZAC Day ~ 25th April. It also empathises with all those whose lives are re-shaped, maybe even shredded by war. We will not forget you! You are not alone! We are with you in spirit.

Saturday, April 26, 2008

Writing Prompts on Live Journal

After the struggle through National Poetry Month, I have decided to add a "new arm".
You can find some unusual writing prompts I have created on Live Journal.

Stop! Drink the Moment!

Pic from Top Left Pixel ~ the beaches, by the Lake Ontario, east of downtown Toronto.
3WW Prompt #LXXXIII ~ picture reflected stop
A picture tells half stories ~
There are rare moments
Of deep reflected secrets
When there's more than meets the eye
Summer's sands are iced ~
Surf is a flurry of snow ~
Slipping tired fencelines
Drift silently to somewheres
Locked into magic white earths
But frosty landscapes
Arced, tangled in grizzled shapes
Are ribboned in light ~
The humble path is a stop
To walk in a rainbow sky

Paradox ~ for Totally Optional Prompts

Pic from Deviant Art ~ BloodedDaylight ~ Late Spring
coloured life on ice
spring dreaming
new star cross'd lovers

What future? ~ for Sunday Scribblings and Poefusion

Pic from Deviant Art ~ firefox13 ~ Future of our Planet??
This poem is in response to 2 prompts ~ The future of the Planet on Sunday Scribblings and a via negativa poem on Poefusion.
Cities are not cold and lifeless
Smogging nature's lifeblood ~
They host the gathering of multifarious minds
Like a corroboree
Celebrating the glory of a killing
Urban shapes are not real ~
Planning is merely the spark
Of accidental circumstance ~
Shapes grow in chaotic profusion ~
Mini dreams
Of real estate moghuls
Molder and mayhem ~
The height of surreal
Optimism and decadence
Urban shapes are not unreal
They are gods of reality
Pretence and pretext
As pseudo reality
For some
An aerial view
Of our cities is
Ugly ~
Is that a sign of an
Ugly future?
Or is there a beauty in
Not tabled in
Cities are not a symbol of death ~
Urban shapes are not real
But they are not unreal either
Progress is not sadness ~
Virtual worlds are not real
But they are not unreal either
The planet
The future
In perfect

Friday, April 25, 2008

Outrageous or Outraged? ~ for Writer's Island

Pic on Deviant Art by Bazerrk ~ Truly Outrageous
Your long haired mane of fluffy lavendar
Reminds me of a pampered poodle
Defiantly refusing
Curling tongs
And that red drop on the ear
Could be blood

A humble pearl
But that silver fringe
Really is a statement
Beyond statements ~
Could it be some
Curtain accessory
Or perhaps
Some colonel's tassel
(I won't ask how!)
Then those
Ribboned prints
So pointedly
On deepest
Velvet ~
I am sure
Need no
Explanation ~
It is all quite blatant
But then
You know
My lemon comments
Are only a sign
Of pure
Iced in triumph
For I know
Your outrageous beauty
The outrage
Those eyes
You see
The beauty of
An aura

Lumen ~ for Friday 5

Pic from greenhead ~ lumen tree votive
Prompt ~ Poefusion's Friday 5 ~ splinter distractions molder votive punctuate
Even when time seems to molder
And happiness is a mere splinter
Of sepia lifetimes
When distractions are just a passing fancy ~
Stray music
On the wind
Chancing to punctuate
Yellowing keys
The lumen of a simple votive
Plaintive light
Over tiers
Of shadows

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Isle of Light ~ for Poefusion #15

Pic by Michael G85 of Liffey Falls, Tasmania on Deviant Art
Southern light
Island of mountains
Blue music snowlines
Mysterious soft time warp
My music, my song
Sheffield murals
Lost village
Luscious bakery
Walking puzzle
Cataract Gorge streams
White windmill sails
Mysterious soft music
My song, my time warp
Dry's Bluff colours
Nature's moods
Heady food for souls
Old Liffey
Another life

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Dirty Laundry ~ Easy Street Prompt #153 and Poefusion #14

Pic from Easy Street ~ Prompt #153 + Mantras in response to Poefusion #14
I am not just a few plain wires waiting for you to string your clothes
I am not just a clothes peg longing to keep your spun dries in place
I am not your clothesline conveniently hidden in your backyard
I am not just here to fix your dirty laundry.
I am that displaced tree
Nudging out the wires
To grow
To reach for
The real sunlight

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Watercolours ~ a Luc~Bat

Pic is Chinese Friendship Garden in Darling Harbour, Sydney, NSW on Just Wandering blog. Built to celebrate Australia’s 200th anniversary, the garden is the local Chinese community’s way of preserving and sharing their rich cultural heritage. The garden was built with Chinese and Australian expertise and materials.
Squished in the cityscape
Softling harbour landscape of peace ~
Troubled spirits release ~
Frowning pains of minds cease to ice
Hope in gloom; dawns entice
Mellow wisdom; concise yearnings
Light the way of dreamings ~
Celestine wanderings for all
Who seek another call ~
Beneath the smog of tall progress
There is space to ingress

Defying a regress to chains

Monday, April 21, 2008

Peter Panned Scarecrow

Pic by by Leontine Mayartwork ~ Watercolor from Flickr
Watercolor was originally uploaded to Flickr by anongrrl.
Poefusion Prompt: For an extra challenge try writing a sestina with these words: crow, umbrella, shade, dress, post and scarecrow.
Girl, your body image leaves a lot to be desired, cried the crow
In fact, the frame of your jaunty umbrella
Is hardly a useful bit of shade ~
And did you pinch a bit of twig for a post
To be some arty coat hanger for that princess dress ~
And what a joke if you dare call the whole contraption a scarecrow
Some woolly hatted piped piece of straw is my kinda scarecrow ~
At least this guy has a clown face to amuse me, said the crow
But this baby doll, white kinda see through dress
Parading some whimsical bubble you call an umbrella
Decorating a bit of dead tree reincarnated as some useless post
Would best be put out to pasture in the outback minus the shade
Hopefully in the outback burning sunlight will paint a new shade ~
Imagine a sculpture called the Broken Hill Scarecrow ~
People will travel miles to view this isolated post
I could be famous for this found art, mused the crow
But I do suggest you dump that ridiculous umbrella
And add a hat to give some class to that dubious dress
Perhaps you could adopt me to create a designer dress
Just in case raw weather creates a figment of its old shade
Perhaps I could design a giant beach style umbrella
Worthy of the most ignominious scarecrow ~
I could always be your Sir Humble crow
Willing to attend your needs from any stray post
But I really wouldn't mind too much if you decorated my post
Preferably with some delectable foods but not another dress ~
Ensure my perch is only fit for just one crow
Ensure I'm not too far from your sculpture and its beach-like shade
And you will have for yourself so much more than a mere scarecrow
You will have so much more than just a mere umbrella
Perhaps I can only dream on this toy umbrella
Perhaps I am destined to sigh for a special post
Perhaps I can only gawk at this pretence of a scarecrow
Perhaps I can only cringe at that Peter Panned dress ~
I am doomed to trundle life to that other shade
And just forever be another crow
From a distance a scarecrow is pierced with an umbrella
It could be a painting of a crow musing quizzically on an unconventional post
And yet, there is a child's dress dancing on a wooden cross in mystic, patched shade



A place of beauty in the Western Tiers


View near Blackwood Park Cottages, Mole Creek

New Landscapes

New Landscapes
New Worlds

Archive of Blog Quotes

  • A perfect summer day is when the sun is shining, the breeze is blowing, the birds are singing, and the lawn mower is broken. ~James Dent
  • Autumn is an introspective season when stray thoughts of the mind dive into the mystique of the soul - Gemma Wiseman
  • Autumn is the bridesmaid of Summer and the flowergirl of Winter ~ Gemma Wiseman
  • Autumn whispers the tones of yesterday in a minor key ~ Gemma Wiseman
  • Love is born / With a dark and troubled face, / When hope is dead / And in the most unlikely place; / Love is born, / Love is always born. - Michael Leunig's Christmas Song Cycle "Southern Star"
  • Spring paints the stars of heaven in Earth colours ~ Gemma Wiseman
  • Summer sizzles with a sibilant hush / Broken by dreams of / Clinking ice ~ Gemma Wiseman
  • The object of a new year is not that we should have a new year. It is that we should have a new soul. - G.K. Chesterton
  • Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all. - Stanley Horowitz
  • Winter is the fire, simmering lonely in the soul ~ Gemma Wiseman
  • Winter is the shadow, the etching of the seasons in the mist ~ Gemma Wiseman

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