in restless sleep as he dreamed the fire rose and swirled the devourer unleashed to color the skies red a storm wild and unbridled burning where it struck grey ash cinders and char in its wake in restless sleep he dreamed the fire flew in black and he knew an empty place within ~ Poem … Continue reading dream of empty
when he stood still just for a moment movement could be seen a stirring in the earth beneath … … around his feet then he would wriggle his toes a little move his feet in a sort of shuffle before stepping away always moving away from a minor disturbance of the earth in the vicinity … Continue reading his potential
1# I will breathe the mountain air filtered sunlight through time through a dandelion clock inside myself rarefied ~ 2# here I am in the quietest place on earth only the sound of flapping wings a bird so high up I can hardly see her whispering a regiment of passing flies quiet hum a marching/flying … Continue reading Tawonga Huts (from hiking, poetry)
what Katy did I must admit was not something I expected I had thought that she might like to fly and she sings you know a whisper carried on the breeze sometimes she idles hours away sometimes she stretches out wing to wing so pretty but what Katy did was to immerse herself just like … Continue reading time and Katy
he wished to see the sky he looked inside himself to find his dreams his hopes his pride he gazed up beyond the clouds into the blue ~ Poem #495 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.
Thanks you to Mick Canning for his wonderful review of Small Town Kid.
I’m off to the mountains for an overnight stay in a tent tonight. I think Mick might enjoy that. Check out his writings about the Hill Stations of India.
I have enjoyed Frank’s poetry ever since I discovered it a couple of years ago.
Small Town Kid is a book of poems about growing up in a small town in Australia during the 1960’s and 1970’s. The town is provincial, the way that small towns invariably are, where everyone knows everyone else, and everyone else’s business.
In those days, a small town was very different to a small town today, now the internet and social media have changed even the slow-paced life of these places forever. And so those of a certain age will recognise many of the situations and much of subject matter of these poems, while to those much younger they may well seem almost alien.
Rich in emotions, as well as in visual detail, we listen to Frank describe experiences such as hunting rabbits, letting off fireworks, and going on picnics, turning his nose up at…
View original post 158 more words
my light is solitary I carry it alone your light should not shine where I can see it how can I be solitary alone alone alone how can I when your light shines where I must see it you are vexatious to me you seek to be alone right there yet you shine so close … Continue reading solitary intrusion
hee-yah! hee-yah! I am herding the stars these recalcitrant stars across the wide black plain they are forming a line they are shining hee-yah! I crack the corded whip haa! I crack the corded whip haa! haa! haa! hee-yah! Meteor! go round them up Meteor! make them line streak (you good thing) go around … Continue reading droving (the milky way)
the wide awaits it is just … … there and yet we flock our wings may touch at a sudden turn we will startle at shadows and yet ... there remains the wide the high ~
Yesterday's on air interview/chat between Sandra Moon and frank Prem on local ABC is here.