Blog Archives

Explorer (16a)

EXPLORER

Mystery
Childhood favourite
Whyspering
In my ear
Fairy stories beckoned me
Hinting at ingress

Looking here
Looking there of course
(OCD)
Each stone turned
Discovering vibrant life
Cloaking … Mystery

~~~~~~~~~~~

Shadorma November

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Katzenjammer (14b)

KATZENJAMMER

Cats abound
Frolic unbounded
Wonderland’s
Schrödinger’s
Let us keep an open mind
Mysteriously

~~~~~~~~~~~

Shadorma November

Divine Divan (5a)

DIVINE DIVAN

Sweet softness
Beneath sky’s covers
We share love’s
Mysteries
A celestial duvet
Our private heaven

~~~~~~~~~~~

Shadorma November

Old Lovers: Four By Six

OLD LOVERS

That curious rhythm
Stitched us to its branchings
Caught up in its weaving
Gladly surrendering

Gambol, Gambol

GAMBOL, GAMBOL

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.”

Gambol, gambol, little lamb
How I wonder who I am!
Dancing, prancing, high then low,
Never knowing where I go.

Maypole

MAYPOLE

In
Out
In
Out
What’s
It
All
About?

Unresolved And Ongoing

UNRESOLVED AND ONGOING

Truth or dare but a party game; yet solo
who dare reveal these truths unshown
beyond these so private hallowed walls,
unshared with anyone beside oneself;
unknown in fact even here within
for truth to tell unquestioned, left unexplored.
Awareness – unspoken – wordless – unborn.

Old bedfellows Truth and Lies lie side by side,
sing “noli me tangere” in tango tempo, like
the Magdalene still endures the bad-rapping
despite the dissension, the fervid support.
Wife, best friend, reformed prostitute or what?
Let’s be honest now who really knows?
True truth unrattled by untruth’s pretension
the inner world has never been hyphenated.

To Whom Is Home?

TO WHOM IS HOME?

I am
Am I not?
I am

And wander
And wonder
And wander

And wonder
Who wanders
And wonders

And wanders
And wonders
Who wonders who wanders

And wonders
Who wonders
Who wanders who wonders …

And wonder
Who wonders who wonders
And wonder who wonders

And wonders
And wanders
And is

Wielding

WIELDING

Does a pen know what words to use?
Surely it is only the wielder of the pen.
And does a writer know what tale to tell?
This wielding business when examined
Surely begs a few questions of its own.

Self-publishing

SELF-PUBLISHING

Looks like it’s not sufficient to be clever
You can still end up in the lost-and-found
You can split the scene or stand your ground
It’s been that way since forever
No rock solid link to Spirit whatsoever
None of our conjectures are too sound
You hit multilingual traps, rebound
Somersault screaming, “Never!”

Yet how to survive in a dull world while sharp
And not end up in the lost-and-found still
Whether giving in or refusing to budge?

An open verdict, an absentee judge
Endlessly replaying “The World According To Garp”
You can read on the scoreboard the result: Nil Nil

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