alys
English
One of my most precious belongings is a poetry book that my parents bought for me when I was eight years old - and so began my love of poetry. The book went everywhere with me; my teacher lent me her own poetry books; and my interest grew. I have been writing poetry for many years, my inspiration drawn mostly from art and nature, sometimes from relationships. Enjoy!
In sandaled feet we stroll beside the hedgerow
And Satan’s nettle bites with wicked teeth;
But doctor leaf is growing in abundance:
Open all hours to provide relief.
For God created all things bright and wondrous
And took his rest upon the seventh day;
Then evil set to work with Mother Nature
And led the birds and beasts and bugs astray.
The owl and hawk prey upon helpless creatures:
Vole, shrew and rabbit are their daily bread;
While fox sneaks up and steals the farmer’s poultry
And banquets when the farmer’s in his bed.
Way up above our heads in lofty tree tops
A greater crime’s committed than the rest:
The infant cuckoo murders all his siblings,
By pushing eggs and fledglings from the nest.
Survival of the fittest is important
In order for a species to survive;
If only dodos had been more aggressive-
Then those peculiar birds might be alive.
Jun 25, 2010
Jun 25, 2010 at 11:44 PM UTC
**** robin wakes and greets the dawn
With high-pitched chittering;
Spindly legs bear his stout form
Across the frozen terrain;
Icy breezes ruffle rosy breast,
Blood red against the charcoal soil
And sugar-frosted shrubs;
He spies a lardy oasis
Strung from a barren branch
And breaks the night’s fast
With ravenous peck.
Close by, spider, aroused,
Dazzled by its diamond-studded abode,
Unfurls its legs to investigate
The solitude of its frozen labour.
Gazing down upon the scene,
The hazy moon,
Sickle of silver smudged
On sapphire sky,
Prepares to renounce its sentry duty
To the sun,
The glowing amber orb
On the horizon;
And so to bed Jack Frost,
Your toil is done.
Jun 25, 2010
Jun 25, 2010 at 11:40 PM UTC
Silent,
Solitary
Fisher sits; watches; waits;
Still as statue, the king;
Fish spied:
He dives.
Jun 25, 2010
Jun 25, 2010 at 10:12 PM UTC
To write
Is to speak
Without lips;
To speak
Is to sing
Without tunes;
To read
Is to hear
Without ears;
To hear
Is to listen
Without thoughts;
To walk
Is to dance
Without music;
To dance
Is to write
Without words.
Jun 25, 2010
Jun 25, 2010 at 9:53 PM UTC
Vanessa stayed at home
Alone,
Broken heart
Of stone,
Bereft
And birth day bare
Nowhere to go,
Nothing to wear,
No dress,
No flowing hair
To comb;
A broken heart
Alone;
Vanessa stayed at home.
Jun 25, 2010
Jun 25, 2010 at 9:48 PM UTC
A throat,
creamy
white;
A chain,
golden,
bright;
A scarf,
soft
and light;
A hand,
hot
and
tight.
Jun 25, 2010
Jun 25, 2010 at 8:35 AM UTC
Caterpillar green
Have you ever been
Inside a cocoon
Or will you soon?
Under milky moon
I’ll make my cocoon,
Only then I’ll sleep
A slumber deep;
When I’m set to fly
In the topaz sky,
With my velvet cape
I will escape;
But for now I’ll squirm
Lowly as a worm,
Hiding ‘neath this bush
From hungry thrush.
Jun 25, 2010
Jun 25, 2010 at 8:34 AM UTC
Oh Sally Lightfoot
With your limpet-crusted shell -
What a well dressed crab.
Crayfish, how is it
That your skeleton is on
The outside of you?
The female lobster
Lays a hundred thousand eggs:
Thermidor for all.
Furry crustaceans
Found in the South Pacific -
Can ***** be cuddly?
Can you fall in love
When your heart is in your head?
Wish mine was too, shrimp.
Jun 25, 2010
Jun 25, 2010 at 8:30 AM UTC
'Neath canopy of paradise
Super troupers' shafts of light
Illuminate his terpsichore;
***** he struts, the impresario
Gyrating on spindle shanks;
Needle thin and knock-kneed
He dances a samba
On stage of verdure;
Midst Elvis blue-black thrusts,
Steel rimmed amber orbs
Seek admiring and desirous glances
From the dour drab hen,
Mousy in her beige twin set
And mottled tweed skirt;
With nonchalant disinterest she exits
The arena; audition over.
Jun 24, 2010
Jun 24, 2010 at 11:40 AM UTC
White cube, chrome cage, black mynah bird;
Yellow eye stripes, beak; feet
Perched; scratching, scrabbling,
Slowly rocking; suddenly squawking
‘All systems go, all systems go.’
Haacke’s dream: his intention
‘All systems go’
Of the mynah bird’s volition.
But silence fills the gallery.
The script is written but
The mynah bird
Refused to learn his lines.
Jun 24, 2010
Jun 24, 2010 at 10:56 AM UTC