Category Archives: Poesy-Prosey-Artsy
I remember sprawling in a canoe, while August sunshine washes over my bare, reddening body. my dangling feet are splashing the cold, blue lake. The canoe swings slackly around the makeshift anchor. A gusty breeze ripples the lake, It plays … Continue reading
I loiter beside the shredded tree muffled in October woolly mist beside a heap of cocoon leaves – demolition debris from a busy summer fanning wind, shading sun and waving at your comings and goings Ealing, UK; October/November 1986
We were bored. and the cedar was just another tree to us as we started to chop it. Sap dribbled and dripped from the gaping wound… like blood which spurted from my own gash a few days later. Revenge perhaps.
Standing, looking out over Bangor. The wind cold redding my cheeks. Clouds and coalfire smoke my breath all billowing then streaming. Caught by ice blasts and disappearing with them.
Excited red cheeked children yell with glee at the jerking antics of a crazy yellow kite. Sunday-keen Father struggles with his jiggling hat while looking at his watch, and, no doubt, wistfully thinking of lunch and a beer.
I’m excited at the thought of leaving all this familiar pasture. I’m told that the grass is greener on the other side of the hill. I hope not. I know green. I want to know blue and yellow too. Toronto, … Continue reading
I gazed awhile at a candystriped biplane shredding clouds nearbabove helterskeltering and whirling through gutknotting loops and pirouettes. Surely the pilot was whooping and yelling?
One day I’ll learn, maybe not in words of one syllable why I am compelled to flee the room full of raucous riot and elbowing society, like I did just now
A poem is seeping through my thoughts, not one with rhymes and lines and meters but a message of hues and sparkles and tinkling sounds, unrelated to cadences I have read and tried before….
Horses (still) with ploughs, dust, red seats and old ladies planting small neat yellow potatoes.