Please visit Cosmofunnel.com to see my latest offerings, including:-
Please visit Cosmofunnel.com to see my latest offerings, including:-
-
I dunno Poem by Owen Tilley – COSMOFUNNEL
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The chosen few Poem by Owen Tilley – COSMOFUNNEL
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Sit still and listen Poem by Owen Tilley – COSMOFUNNEL
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A life less lived within Poem by Owen Tilley – COSMOFUNNEL
- Others still to come…
To all followers,
Sorry for my lack of action of late.
I found a new site that has gained my attention. It’s called Cosmofunnel.com. It’s been keeping me busy and I’ve been posting a number of poems there you won’t, as yet, find here.
It’s a site that’s been going since 2011, a lot longer than MTS, and may be of interest to some of you, if you haven’t found it before I.
Anyway, I’ll be back in action in due course but for the time being, feel free to check out the many and varied offerings at Cosmo.
Until next time,
Owen.
Her sense of solitude
was lost in sunshine’s spring
happiness was humming
with the fun that children bring
—
In a moment far from anywhere
she jumped into his arms
the tree, so far from where you are
unknown, she sees the calm
—
That he and her bring to she
cherubic smile of red
caught in her sense of only-ness
before a turn of bed
—
Quiet in her own surrounds
happy as the flame tree can
the blessing brings a child
made of girl and made of man
—
She reaches high up to the sky
the branch she’ll almost touch
raised on the farm by stronger arms
that teach her to fight
—
For what is right, so hard to find
amongst the cloud of day
‘hush’; she says; ‘leave me alone
to walk, to find my way.’
I love chocolate! Not just for the taste and the variety available. Walk into your nearest chocolate shop and the whole world opens up to you, like Forest Gump said;
Life is like a box of chocolates – you never know what you’re gunna get.
My box of chocolates runs around my backyard like a fanciful, frenzied fanatic. My box should have been born with a tennis ball in the left side of her mouth. It never seems to move, unless it’s in the air, waiting for her to jump, four feet off the ground, and catch it like an Australian Rules footballer, in the exact spot where it stays as she rests.
Rests? Huh, now there’s something she doesn’t do often. And when she does it’s for a moment, before she gets up, ball in mouth, and finds her ‘master’, for want of a better word, and chases him quietly, persistently, around the house until he gives in and says;
Okay, okay, I get it. It’s time to play ball
No, no, you misunderstand. Not baseball. Just ‘ball’. Up she flies, over she runs, there she stands, eyes looking up at me expectantly, as if there is nothing else in existence at that moment but the three of us – me, her, and the ball.
And not just any ball. It has to be a ‘real’ tennis ball. Thank God, across the way from my house there is a tennis club, where retirees go to freshen up on their not-so-perfect tennis.
Oh, once I was a star. Could beat anyone that challenged me to play
I hear one old retiree say to his ‘friends’ from time to time. Like me telling people I’m a millionaire, this ‘gentleman’ is not-so-believable. But one thing we can all believe is that he provides access to a club with an array of quality balls, of great use to my box of chocolates running and jumping in my backyard.
Feel that ball, see it bounce. Feels good in the hand, even better in the mouth. There she goes again, flying like a kite across the way, like a footballer jumping for a mark. Yet there’s just one difference. She’s better at it. Watching the football last night, the players dropped as many marks as they caught. My box of chocolates catches them all.
It’s just good luck, I hear you say. Aww, c’mon, she can’t possibly catch them all – she must drop the odd one.
Okay, so I lie. Yes, I’ll admit. She drops the odd one here and there. But I’d have her on my team any day. See, she has a benefit over us humans. She’s a dog. And there are numerous reasons they are better than us at ball-catching:-
- She is more agile – Dogs have a crazy amount of athletic ability
- She is far braver – Dogs put the task before themselves
- She has way better sensory perception – Dogs don’t take their eye off the ball
- She is more focussed – Given a task to perform, dogs will prove they are more focussed than humans on the task at hand
Couple this with the fact dogs are happier than us, smarter than children, and help keep us healthy, and it’s no wonder us dog-lovers are happy with our box of chocolates.
Are these the words?
Are these the words I needn’t say?
You say them for me when you pray
You kneel upon a wooden floor
Sit on a bench they call a pew
And talk to those who cannot share
Your presence in the holy room –
Who sacrificed so you could live
And care for those who cannot give
What they receive to those they love –
Who treat them like a waveless shore –
They cannot see you anymore
But where they go there will be care
And one day they will see you there
Yet now, the congregation flows
Singing hymns we all would know
From the hymn sheet given them
And once done, in sight, the choir sings
A hum is heard from those ahead
Then the scriptures will be read
By the Reverend that fine day
And if a Bible you don’t have
No need for you to worry, so –
One will sure be given you
And inside that holy room
Where words are said for me through prayer
I wonder whether I could share
The sentiment being written there.
Please slow down
Sometimes we move so fast that life just can’t keep up with us. Always running, faster, harder, to get to that next meeting, that next doctor’s appointment, to be there for our loved ones or to pick our children up from school. When can we ever find the time to just slow down?
Recently I was in a town in Queensland, Australia, called Eumundi. The picture that you see with this publication was taken as I entered the town. The town itself was like returning to the 1950’s. I don’t say that in a bad way but rather an affectionate way, for I’d jump in the car to go to Eumundi again tomorrow – if only I could find the time.
Time. Have you ever tried taking your watch off and judging the time by the sun? In days gone by that’s exactly what people would do. The only clock was the one in the Town Centre on the Clocktower. Otherwise, the sun would tell those of yore that it was time. Even today, I’m sure some of those we hold dear judge time the very same way. Take my dog, for instance.
Needless to say she knows when it’s time for breakfast ‘cos the sun’s up. She knows it’s time for a walk ‘cos breakfast is over. She knows it’s lunch-time ‘cos the sun is strong, and the shade in the backyard has moved ever so slightly. And, most importantly, she knows when it’s dinner-time, for the sun is getting ready to set. As it falls dark she knows the day is over and it’s time to rest.
But we keep moving at a hundred miles an hour, failing to take in the beauty of the day, the sunset’s rich colour, and the bay of sparkling water with moored boats that we pass on our way home from work. When did we get ahead of ourselves?
Does it make you wonder how we ever survived without those gadgets we use to divert our attention from impending boredom? Do you ever stop to think we seem to be heading in the direction of ‘losing time’ for ‘sitting and thinking’, as rare as it might be, has taken over from, well, just ‘sitting’. So we turn to our gadget. Each and every day when I try and find the time for a bite to eat, I walk up the street and see people walking toward me, head down, hand around their gadget, checking their latest text message, or looking at their latest photo sent from a friend they used to catch up with most weekends at the bar but now – yes, you guessed it – just don’t seem to be able to find the time for.
One time it so happened I was in a Shopping Centre and the girl walking near me was walking toward a water fountain, her head down attending to her gadget. She kept walking far enough that she fell right into that water fountain, her dress soaking wet, and another shopper bringing her shoes to her that had been floating around the other side. Luckily, no harm came to her that day. Nor did it come to the young man who tripped and fell on the sidewalk near the CBD because he was too busy texting to look up and face the day.
Every day I try and wake up, pull the curtains, look at the woman beside me, and then look out the window at the sun shining, as if to say; ‘Good morning’ and then I stare at the palm tree in the front yard and, to use a colloquial expression, thank my lucky stars for being a part of the day that lies ahead of me.
After all, we love our kids, we love our town – let’s slow down.
NB: First published on https://mytrendingstories.com/admin/publications/article/26423/
Old Sydney Town
Built from nothing but botany and earth
A harbour fore, deliverance be true.
Now the best there is, anywhere on earth
Harks of a persona harking back to you.
My family come from Melbourne, don’t you know?
The only one born and bred in town!
When we moved south I had no say at all –
A two-year old, in back seat, bears a frown.
On our return, my smile fast appeared –
Ahhh, the wattle, the humidity and sand.
A blow-up pool in our backyard of cheer
Was where you would find me and my fans.
As years past, Sydney grew to adulthood –
A child that had, now, come of age.
A life of love, forgiveness – yes, I could
Be that man standing on the players’ stage.
I sat there on the House’s stairs, watching them drink –
Vodka looked like water to the naked eye,
Donating funds for those left on the brink –
I fixed my eyes on the harbour’s night-time sky.
I looked from my balcony at night
And saw fireworks – New Year’s still far away –
A picture perfect backyard scene of light
That drew me nearer Southern Cross each day.
Old Sydney Town, I love you with my heart –
My family belong there with the Bridge.
I may move north for a brand new start
But you stay with me – in hindsight, you are it.
I missed you every day I was away,
Frustrated at decisiveness to move.
My mother brought me to your world to stay
And trickling water fountains would disprove
That Old Sydney Town left slow-coaches behind
Only one speed here – fast or you were dead
But your city’s splendour, elsewhere I couldn’t find –
Secluded beaches ‘round the foreshore’s sand I tread.
Under the Bridge I lay, gazing in her eyes
My hand pressed to her palm as we embraced.
Where else is there a park beneath constructed site?
Yet my main attraction was her suntanned face.
The caterpillar and the crane – far away
And the dust gave blue sky a dirty hue.
Please keep the beaches open – don’t betray
The places, splendid, we can all walk to.
Old Sydney Town, I love you now you’re grown
And the waning winter weather waits the sun.
Raise your head with pride at amalgamation’s show –
Out of many we live life as one.
Dance
Dance the dance that gives a chance
To come again before the end
Build the build that holds a choice
To feel, to fawn, via the voice
That speaks to you and speaks to me
As I look through glazed window to the sea
That trickles in reflected moon
A place I’ll tend to very soon
Before the store can empty, new
Be one of them, the very few
That sort out disorganised array
And drift so far, a world away
Before they stop and turn and come again
To touch, to tremble, now and then
‘Cos every heart beats faster still
When faced with someone that until
Just recently they never thought
The one true thing that they had sought
Would hold their hand in life’s romance
And walk the walk
And dance the dance.
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