A mixed bag
It's been a busy week catching up with everything after the holidays, and I am soon off again for a long weekend with my mum. Just to Whitby but it should be nice perhaps I'll do some painting, its been a while. So for the time being some more poems. The last one feels like it comes from a children's story, mabey I will write one.Rock pool is a shape poem and got first prize at Harrogate writers Circle and the first one was a holiday poem.
Siesta
Busy temple ants sift the clogging sod
Dappled armoured industry
Flesh takes its ease
Rough yet alive
Sensation its own reality
Ribbons of wild garlic
Paint tongues of sweet sickly caramel
Among the grasses that pinch and prod
Rock Pool
Coral knights about the rocks
Mark sideward march towards the sea
As tiny stars scale tower blocks
Beyond a carmine feather tree
Sly tinker, hermit scuppers dust
Into its jet and jasper box
Blasting iron butterflies
Who picket in the raging froth.
Po Kalo the Monkey King
In the inky cloak of jungle
Lurks a shadow devil
Po Kalo the monkey king
Calls all to his revels
King of the fallen city
Where his wild companions play
Mocking the men who used him
And took his lands away
Theft is his provider
Mischief his best friend
Since he cursed his brothers
To violence and revenge
Wearily at sunrise
Their ranks are called to fool
Capering for tourists
Scavenging for food
Tempers are explosive
Skilled clowns they play the crowd
Awaiting the sign for mutiny
Veiled Malevolent and foul
High on a shattered pillar
A tiny manic form
Po Kalo the monkey king
Stirs up his silent storm
Siesta
Busy temple ants sift the clogging sod
Dappled armoured industry
Flesh takes its ease
Rough yet alive
Sensation its own reality
Ribbons of wild garlic
Paint tongues of sweet sickly caramel
Among the grasses that pinch and prod
Rock Pool
Coral knights about the rocks
Mark sideward march towards the sea
As tiny stars scale tower blocks
Beyond a carmine feather tree
Sly tinker, hermit scuppers dust
Into its jet and jasper box
Blasting iron butterflies
Who picket in the raging froth.
Po Kalo the Monkey King
In the inky cloak of jungle
Lurks a shadow devil
Po Kalo the monkey king
Calls all to his revels
King of the fallen city
Where his wild companions play
Mocking the men who used him
And took his lands away
Theft is his provider
Mischief his best friend
Since he cursed his brothers
To violence and revenge
Wearily at sunrise
Their ranks are called to fool
Capering for tourists
Scavenging for food
Tempers are explosive
Skilled clowns they play the crowd
Awaiting the sign for mutiny
Veiled Malevolent and foul
High on a shattered pillar
A tiny manic form
Po Kalo the monkey king
Stirs up his silent storm
posted by Sue hardy-Dawson at 8/20/2005 06:51:00 PM
6 Comments:
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I hope your kid will be okay..its bit hard when your child friend leave..
Thats the time he/she will need you the most
Well I can imagine how hard is to see after you children needs and to find time that you can spare for your hobby (apart from work and so On)
God Bless you and hope all things will go well
Nice poetic story on Monkey King..It will really be nice to have illustration with it...
Thank-you Nasra for your kind words when things calm down perhaps I will draw you one
Hope things are better now.
Really liked 'Siesta'. Particularly liked the last 3 lines,
"Ribbons of wild garlic
Paint tongues of sweet sickly caramel
Among the grasses that pinch and prod"
Thank-you A they are and school starts tomorow so back to sort things out before the kids get in
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