I feel like I’m about to explode
Not from something bad
But from joy, yes
The very thing I once judged
Turned against me
I had no idea the twist life had in store
I spoke so poorly of poetry
Old thing, boring thing
But now my words
Only know how to be poetic
What was poetry again?
Ah
Yes, my life is now this
Everything is now song and poetry
Life is more beautiful, more colorful
My heart has learned
to love speaking

meteorite radiates  z o o o m m i n g  
crashes onto
Three Anchor Bay turquoise
sky dust onto beach white grains
winds sweep cobbled paths profane
a fetus acquires solitary soul lost
womb enlarges posting veins
shine baby blessed shine divine
observation work is thine

platinum pressure paintbrushes
dove hands devilish articulate
Scythian lifetimes past remembered
fast forward ferrolic clocks spun in head
read write and arithmetic dread
chemical interactions drool squiggles
bathe chuckle study laboratory sniggles
grow compete win defeat cry cameos dead
songs atmospheric to be sung, give up dread

pick Robertson berries drink rare ruby wine
justice jugulars delicately combine
smashing glass, meteorite sits silent under
eyelids pink presence fine
explores inner Canaan cobweb caves galore
climbing pineal heights to evolutionary delight  
seer sight ~ peel, poetic heal a temporary deal
before lissom living long there will be no chemical chasing ding-dongs to skip
or stormy interactions to dip acid slips
merely alkaline planetary victories to blip

moonlit meteorite slowly surely suavely
becomes mythic master meteorologist merry
odd spacial morbidities burnt and buried
she solitary eats mashed mussels musing …
crack crack hush hush
zero rush

her dust floats across the Bay’s
now cobalt midnight waters smoothly
ocean floor seaweed entangles slave ship sunk
circular rhodium ring twines coral reefs sung

Trans
                               muta
tion
                                unDers
                                                         T o o d

a   coelacanth   s w i m s   a w a y

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Copyright:GhairoDanielsPoetry&song 2025

there pigeon  l
                               a
                                   Y _
      
blood dripping from  f ~ e ~ a ~t ~h ~e ~r ~s

                          glazed eyes wounded
                               a passerby filed passed
          angry little boy
                                   kicked
venting RAGE    of
                                  L i F e

in a township flat __\_< >

                       bird rolled forward
                      onto railway line
                              |.    |
                              |. |
                              |. |

will to live extinguished                   Ex ex eeeee
                  on its tiny Heart beat   []{}#%^*+=
                      pumping
pumping
                 half-living blood

breathing silent it lay
            eyelids opened in blazing Sun UuuUuNnN                     Son-SuuuunNn
            chicks long past gone    &&&
                seeking their own worms ~~~~
                     in loamy fertile soil    :::::::::
                                             ::::::::::::::::::..
boy mocked with bright
conquering eyes
                              @    @

                     brown irises in wonder
               at  dull dying WILL            will Will die
tried to reach  f
                        e
                    e
                      B
                         l
                  e
              body
with spidery fingers
                              dirt encrusted nails \/ \/

        ran off ~>> repulsed
             a woman died with moist
                 eyes drip
                                 p
                                    InG
                blood…….—————|||||||

an __unnecessary DEATH
she walked             ^^^^                  HOME
questing her                              STAR
                                        
                                *        
                                  *
©GhairoDanielsPoetry

You can remember
A story always changing
The horse doesn't always have to die
Even though he drowned
Even after, time will tell
A story in a wishing well
the end is  never Fin.

Forged.
Forged in fire.
It’s the fire that burned you.
The fire that was all consuming.
The fire that melted you down into nothing,
Or so you thought.
Forges are hot.
They cause pressure to make you change.
And without change,
A sword would still be metal.
A metal would still be rock,
And a rock would never become a diamond.
Pressure is important.
It hurts at first,
But then it strengthens you.
Strengthens you to something stronger.
Stronger than diamond.

Some people don’t feel the heat.
It is because of those who don’t feel the heat,
that the empty paddy fields turn green,
the roads and bylanes stay clean.
the vehicles of noisy people move without obstruction.
Because of those who don’t feel the heat,
non-motorized rickshaws still move,
hand-pulled carts still survive.
Because of them,
gift packets, perfumes, birthday cakes
reach homes on time.
Some people don’t feel the heat,
and perhaps because of them
– even though fire and smoke pour daily from your mouths –
the earth has not turned to ash,
the city has not yet perished.
+++++++++++++++++++++++