above

why do you frown so things are not so bad even the rain renews a heart too parched behind the clouds sun shines above the storm so wait look hard inside beyond dark wait do you not see blue do you not see the blue © Frank Prem, 2017 November 2017 Poem #01: lake to …

cultured

Poem #49 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction well you see this this here he grasped the young shoot firmly in a gnarled left hand this here is nature he used a quiet voice calm as though speaking to cows …

a cloud beneath the cross

it was only a cloud a small white fluff on a flight-path below star points hardly seen against the glare of city lights it shaped and re-formed as it drifted somehow purposeful across the sky paused for a moment gathered itself took in the whole of the southern cross then moved on © Frank Prem, …

before crescendo

spatter-drop the raindrops dance to the rattled tin sound of thunder the clouds in flight are waving bye bye bye and bye spatter-drop-spatter the rain is dancing falling faster now the thunder is a grey tin fence right beside me right above me someone beating it with a stick I think the clouds are fleeing …

between two words (2)

Poem #48 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction the first word sang like a bell struck clean in the morning and the sound ran through the clusters and the cloisters and the phrases all along the line until the last …

the search for truth

tonight I eat the roasted meat gifted me by the friend who strayed from his herd to fall beneath my spear charred and brown hot juices soak my beard where do you come from beast friend I found you and slew you I cut you down with reverence in my heart but where were you …

between two words (1)

Poem #47 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction between two words that rhyme lies the metaphor like the magpie and its song like a round of firewood and the blade of my axe there the image unfolds in its personal …

bass lines

doo-do-do-do      doo-doo-doo-d doo-do-do-do      doo-doo-doo-d doo-do-do-do      doo-doo-doo-d the bass line is an insinuation by the café stereo system playing noise pitched just above the sound of clatter-clatter-cla-cla-cla-cl clatter-clatter-cla-cla-cla-cl and shu-shu-shu-shu      shu shu      sh      sh shu-shu-shu-shu      shu shu      sh     …

enforcement meeting, start of day

I saw clouds this morning bright gold sculpted musculature at full billow the sun was an instrument playing with first impressions of the day it was like a meeting of the wide-boys of the upper estate a preferred location for high climbers a conference of the upward mobility and they shone like god himself was …

celling a memory

Poem #46 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction in his mind he drew an image then another almost identical he drew another again cell after cell all nearly the same slight differences of instant following instant when he had drawn …