They say
we know
who we are
in adulthood –
sister,
not brother,
wife,
not mother –
a prosaic mosaic,
fragments of a self
but don’t ask me
to complete the picture –
time has lost
more than a few pieces
A place for everything,
for everything, a place,
but under the stairs,
it’s a mind-trash space –
memories secreted in dark, spidered nooks,
neurons rutted like well-thumbed books,
moody film-noir dendritic ends,
space-junk synapses, axonic strands,
dust-choked engrams, dreams, nightmares –
time to springclean under the stairs.
“The next
train due to depart
platform 3
goes to
Kepler-22b,
first stop – Gliese 581 g,
then all stations to Kepler-22b.”
*** And thanks to Jo Bryant for this award ***
When it comes to rules, I’m a bit like you, Jo, but I’ll join you for some pirate tea 😉
I wrote this in September for Gabrielle Bryden’s National Poetry Week Challenge.
For more animal-flavoured poetry check out Gabrielle Bryden’s Penguin Week series.
***

Image via http://www.sxc.hu
I ask scribbly gum moths:
Why this graffiti on trees?
“Mind your own business,
they’re just doodles, if you please”
I ask a plodding snail:
Why the squiggles on the path?
“There ain’t nothing in it –
I just do it for a laugh”
I ask the sly hyena:
Why the tunnels ‘neath the trail?
“Well! Installation art’s
not only for the snail!”
I ask the bower bird:
Why that hoard of shining bling?
“Oh, poppet, it’s no mystery
objets d’art are my thing”
I ask the primping zebra:
What’s with the barcode?
“Poor darling, don’t you know?
Stripes are back in vogue”
But, you know, I don’t believe them –
It’s a vast conspiracy
It’s clear that they are sending
secret messages to me…
***
Above the clouds
the raven circles
below
the world turns
us down
to a fleeting kiss
of ground
in capricious wind’s riddle –
How to unstick gravity?
Pull up!
Pull up!
Maximum speed
unbraking hearts arrested
by clarity
a stark reality
in the whispering
of slow-motion minds –
Are we unstuck?
And the raven hovers
and the world turns
and fear takes flight
Why?
Do I not care or
like others before
deny it’s the end
of my world turning?
Then the raven flies south
on flouncing wind
to drown brown lands
And so
we land
on a world
turning
without end
Am out of the loop for the week, Fellow Bloggers, due to exam, work and travel commitments. See you next.
bb
xx

Image via stock.xchng - http://www.sxc.hu
Thanks to Edward at justanotherblog for his Liebster Award nomination
then
I was certain
of semi versus colon
phrase versus clause
en versus em
stop versus pause
but now
Defence does it this way, Academia, that
and for each I must wear a uniquely styled hat
Tech sector, plain English; Marketing, spin
little wonder my head’s in the shape it’s in
and I spend my days completely confounded
debating if words should be merged or compounded
and whether it’s ‘a ton’ or ‘1 ton’ or ‘one tonne’
(get that one wrong and your career’s good as done)
if I can dash with impunity or must double-dot
and when I must…
..and when I must not
and the comma, the comma—oh, don’t get me started!
it once knew its place; now it’s upped and departed
my participally dangling brain in revolt
Oxford, Strunk and Chicago,
it’s your @:^#;$\,&*! fault
————————-
Thanks to The Laughing Housewife for her CoWA this week which cheered me up immensely after a rather gruelling morning at the dentist 😀
Nature hides then reveals its beauty
I took this photo at Myall Lakes last year of what appears to be a cicada that’s just emerged from its nymph shell. Unfortunately, the colour balance of the photo isn’t good even with a bit of doctoring but it gives an idea of the contrast between the packaging and its contents.
And the poem below is about the duplicitous side of human nature – (it’s a re-post of one of my earliest on this blog).
Wicked
How witchlike a creature can I be
when the moth at a swipe digs its claws into me
and the blood in my veins cascades to the ground
and the thoughts in my head make no audible sound.
How witchlike a creature do I feel
when a table for two is a cannibals’ meal
and the eggs in the pantry go rotten inside
and the cow in the meadow eats its own hide.
How witchlike a creature do I seem
when the nightmare you chase is my sacred dream
when the pain in your heart is the pleasure in mine
when the warmth that you drink is a poisonous wine.
Everything is not what it seems
The smile on my face is the end to a means.
Special thanks to Gabrielle Bryden for guest-posting me on her blog this week 😀
Change
is always
a possibility
Apartheid Museum – Johannesburg, South Africa
‘The next thing you think, the next action you take will either create possibility for you or it will repeat the past’
Deepak Chopra
I sleep in; you are gone when I wake,
but here in our kitchen,
in the egg in the pan
to be boiled,
the GF bread
already once-toasted,
Vivalto Lungo
in the Nespresso machine (eat your heart out, George),
I find you
It is this that keeps me
these minutiae of love,
all the comfort
I need
Bloggers come and bloggers go
and herein lies one Jane Doe
her tombstone says in Goth Shadow:
‘Just another WordPress blog below’
“Anonymity! Oh, freakin’ no!
I do decree that’s not the go!
For your complacency to grow
my power base, ALL I must know!
No faceless, nameless so-and-sos
will be allowed to stem the flow
your ID to the dogs I’ll throw
while I’m here sucking up the dough!”
Bloggers come and bloggers go
and herein lies one Jane Doe
maggot Zuckerberg, her face-off foe,
has sucked her in from head to toe
Sydney Morning Herald – Click, and Facebook revises privacy
Sydney Morning Herald – Facebook’s power should worry us all
Sydney Morning Heraled – Google launches Facebook rival ‘Google+’
You must be logged in to post a comment.