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eleanor prince Feb 2017
a short reprieve
as time would tell
but for that moment
as winter yielded to rest
Ballaarat had turned on a day

no more did grey rain
slice savagely side-wards
shot from Antarctica's ice-fields
separating ribs from shivering flesh
leaving futile dreams of an early spring

this day was good
leaves barely rustled
occasional gusts stirred
caught in silent murmurings
as bulbs reached up with impish smile
this old gold-rush town in mid-Victoria, Australia, is built on a windy plateau, and though gracious in its traditional beauty, is known for relentless winds most of the year... a fine day is celebrated!
eleanor prince Dec 2016
swirling wistful
whispering ridge

speaks to my blood
ancient refrain

stroking stealthy
passionate reach

leaves no freedom
coveting all

onwards stalking
urgently quiet

strikes when poise
drifts

apart
https://www.flickr.com/photos/92628403@N07/27310942001/in/faves-51029280@N05/
eleanor prince Dec 2016
it was hard not to notice
her suffocating stance
eliminating life
from breath

stark contrasts clashed
chemist stench rife
clawed nails fought
with burnt electric hair

face caked with
false promise
rude lips bled
in twisted shapes

mismatched words
shot giddily from
handgun mind
long since spent

guests' amused disdain
stilled at sharp madness
flashes of veined sclera
screamed woe

signatures etched on
death warrants
coffin lids
clamped shut

wild assertions
rank religious fervor
vomited about
a hushed room

charity's stretched
compassion quit
in rush to regain
a summer's peace

efforts to impress
stabbed coarsely
dense air strangled
rational thought

guilty images beset
tortured space
noxious noise
begging revolt

yet collective dagger
falls aside mute
lest honour
too is lost

as raucous gasps fail
to impress
with anything
less than

dreams
of a quiet book
easily wooed
by a silent stream
musings of a fictional, failed 'blind date' sparked by an odious social experience - but the writing style itself inspired by NB's fascinating poetry
eleanor prince Dec 2016
mid-night flower
dare to bloom
unfurl as
moon
wanes

petals soft
velvet smiles
soothe these
waters
deep

echoes rich
Handel's dirge
breathe
your last
embrace
eleanor prince Dec 2016
what do you do

when shrapnel of mind
let loose on rabid breath
tears at flesh
within

bullets round and smooth
wreak havoc
on pillars of norm
challenged

niceness blown apart
in stark light
harsh persistent truth
revealed

cloaks hastily drawn
screened vagaries of
loose imaginings
stripped

etched faces bland
devoid of genuine strength
cast aside effigies
of life

once lived interrupted
childhood tales
spent on pyre of fight
delayed

where skies are green
and grass grey
parameters moved
until there is

no sound
constructive responses welcome
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