the theory of knowledge from a poet's corner
Absence of a tryst to love
Does not abandon thee
From amorous encounters
In a world of make-believe
Absence of a single thought
Wants not a lesser being
Yet, in time one cannot become
What one cannot see
For sight to some means knowledge
Powered by the mind
If one be blind, does it decry
To be of lesser kind?
Yet absence of a sense to some
Means stronger touch and taste
A life lived but a second
Is the kind one ought not waste.
I stood beside the hand I held
And saw it tell a story
It spoke of years when time was young
And the years in sun and glory
It stroked my hair, and with a twist
Touched my elbow then my shoulder
Romance became companionship
As the two of us grew older
Sometimes I thought I’d lose that hand
It left through open door
As it walked away, I turned and thought
I’ll hold that hand no more
Time passed by that open door
In a haze I saw the hand
Walk under the porte corchere
To the courtyard where I stand
I felt a crisp and ardent feeling
Indescribable to me
With fingers interlaced –
We strolled the beach-front,
To the sea.
first published on cosmofunnel.com
The sun and the moon
And the stars and the sky
The laughter that bursts
In the birds that chirp before flying
The water that brings
A saviour to life
After looking down
At the flowers now blooming
The essence, the ingress
Seeps through the room’s open window
The day sees the sun
Shining brightly above
Touch your palm with my hand
Soft and supple – divine
Bringing a peaceful transition
To the wings of the dove
Look right in your eyes
And your eyes right in mine
And if one feels
The sun’s less than strong
We will wait with a patience
For summer to build
And when it doth come
And is felt overhead
It becomes like a pedestal
Finally led
To a quintessential
Parenthetical being
You are my sun and my moon
You, my dear, are my sky
Come, touch my heart
I know it is beating –
For you –
My sweet, my love –
Howsomever so fleeting.
What does it mean to achieve
to think and feel
to love and grieve?
what does it say when we believe
to have faith
and strive to see?
but when one’s blind
is all lost?
or are other senses
used to find
what otherwise
will ne’er be gained
unless with patience
we refrain
from sudden action –
thinking fast
with such a thought
we’re ne’er to last
the distance needed
to succeed
and come again
as if to feed
our conscience –
that which thinks so slow
without which we share
no afterglow
yet if it’s there
we feed the air
and birds will fly
and eyes will stare
upon the scene
we cherish, first
like when we struggle
for a thirst
that hydrates
our sense, our need
as if we hunger
for a creed
that fills us
with the need to glean
the bluest sky
we’ve yet to see
and as our senses
feed our mind
what else is left
for us to find?
what else is there
for us to need
except to strive (and yearn)
to succeed?
He walked amongst the many
and came across the one –
the one who made him feel
like he was walking on a cloud.
Wearing Leopard-spotted ‘happy shoes’
she was a slim little thing, five foot six at most,
wearing black, skin-tight yoga pants
that hugged her legs,
and a silky beige shirt hanging out over her hips
that showed her bare back when she bent down
to check for a book
on the shelf below her.
Her hair was black, long,
drooping over the nape of her neck
and resting half-way down
her slender back.
She rested her hands on her legs
lifted herself up from the crouching position
she’d maintained for a moment,
and as she stood up
she threw her hair over her left shoulder
and turned to face him.
When she walked her shirt slipped open at the front
to reveal her belly.
her soft, supple skin was like a baby’s bottom.
her face silky smooth, surely gentle to the touch,
She wore no make-up,
for there was no need to improve on perfection.
she had a gold stud in her lip,
but even that small admonishment
to her beauty only seemed to add to it
He felt his body changing
in ways over which he had no control.
he felt short of breath.
he was entering a place, a feeling, he was uncomfortable with.
Yet the feeling made him aware he was alive,
physically – mentally,
and able to appreciate the finer things.
he knew not whether to feel awakened and welcomed
to a brave new world
or whether he should feel aggrieved
by having been shut out of that very same world.
Had this girl awakened a sleeping spirit
or had she provided a teaser to something,
like a rainbow, that was just beyond his reach?
One girl – once. He had found his ‘camellia,’
blooming sweetly in the Spring.
The Commonwealth Games are almost upon us and my home town of the Gold Coast is having the Queen’s son, Prince Charles come visit for a while. He’ll be sure to want to visit rainforests and such but cyclones not far north may impede his trip somewhat. Only time, precious time, will tell.
In the meantime, Cobblestones and thatched roofs is a poem I dreamed up recently he might like. I include it here for your reading pleasure:-
More from Cosmofunnel:-
https://cosmofunnel.com/poems/cobblestone-and-thatched-roofs-141182
https://cosmofunnel.com/poems/my-kind-134662
https://cosmofunnel.com/poems/the-wings-of-the-dove-142236
https://cosmofunnel.com/poems/your-smell-131435
All the best to you all…
Well hello again,
Been a little busy of late, what, with one thing and another, so haven’t had much spare time to visit my neglected blog. Cosmofunnel have seen me knock on their door occasionally, however, and some of the poems that follow are the result of that investment.
Check them out, then sign up yourself – I know they’d love to have you.
Somewhat Wobbly
https://cosmofunnel.com/poems/somewhat-wobbly-120424
No Vacancy
https://cosmofunnel.com/poems/no-vacancy-120352
Shenanigans
https://cosmofunnel.com/poems/shenanigans-120284
The ICU
https://cosmofunnel.com/poems/the-icu-119218
Until next time, keep writing! It’s the true essence of desire.
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.
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/
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.
