Day 24 – glory (& well, more glory)

Thoughts which have been broiling round in my brain while driving round the Barossa these past few weeks as Vintage wraps up, have finally coalesced into a reasonable poem. (After a bit of a biological brush up on the process of leaf colour changing.)

*****

senescence

i
with the arrival of mechanical harvesters
the Valley lost much of its vivid autumnal charm.
over violent shaking of the vines strips a quarter
or more of the leaf cover & startles the remainder
into a state of shock. though improved technology
has recently reduced the trauma & restored slightly
the brilliant explosions, breathtaking feast-your-eyes
yellow-golds, gorgeous scarlets, cheekblushing-crimsons,
redhued-rubies, winedark-purples, outrageous-oranges.
but still, slowly, the old ways die.

ii
a smilier malaise is affecting the less prevalent,
but still present, deciduous population. normally
as daylight declines & the nights grow long & cold,
chlorophyll production slows as plants recycle
& ship to storage those molecules ready for next season.
the domineering chlorophyll, no longer in the ascendancy
allows the always-present but lushly masked
complex chemistry compounds called carotenoids,
yellows & oranges, to have their moment in the sun
(as it were); before the red, pink, & purple pigments
responsible for sunscreen, light protection & pest prevention
kick in to complete the slow motion fireworks display.

iii
but this year’s long dry summer means unhealthy
water-stressed trees seem to be cutting their losses
carte blanche by snap-drying then rapidly dumping
instabrown dry paperwisps; terraforming the sky
to the same dusty brown as the droughtbaked dirt
it mirrors

BONUS POEM: April 24, 2018

A place Mum & I had to visit. & somewhere I think I’d love to live.

2019 EDIT: minor tweaks to improve flow, rejambed enjambment, & various images given extra bite. All in all, at least a 50% better poem than previous incarnation.

*****

sitting on the Doc’s step

after driftwalking
half in the world
the rest in my own head ;
limbo rambling in
artfully framed narrative ;
& the much messier
more inconveniently laid
out reality ; I sit on
his fake slate step —
wanting ; wishing ; hoping
to someday leave
such a through
looking-glass legacy
for other daytrip
dreamers

Day 23 – swans (& folios)

Again, working on a longer poem today. Knew an hour ago I wouldn’t finish in time, so started a new one. Coming to understand, NaPoWriMo is less about the poems you finish this month — and more about the poems you’ve long wanted to start and will finish next month.

*****

Will never end

Will you forever be
the quintessential
enigma-wrapped-
conundrum-encased-
paradox-generator?
or will your secrets
one day unfurl?
a swan ascending
from the mute stream.
so many want so much
from your cursed bones;
but so little remains
& it’s oh so easy
to fabricate tales
to suit our own
desperate desires

BONUS POEM: April 23, 2018

Unresolved & unfinished I think, but the others I wrote today don’t fit …

*****

First Folio

all this fuss
over a book
plenty of books
have existed
& been lost
& the world
continues on

at once
a little richer
& a little poorer
for having existed
yet been lost
which is which
you must determine

Day 23 – swans (& folios)

*****

Will never end

BONUS POEM: April 23, 2018

Unresolved & unfinished I think, but the others I wrote today don’t fit …

*****

First Folio

all this fuss
over a book
plenty of books
have existed
& been lost
& the world
continues on

at once
a little richer
& a little poorer
for having existed
yet been lost
which is which
you must determine

Day 21 – wind (& other noises)

Sometimes they come from I know not where.

*****

the wind tree

on various out of the way
locales round the world
they hide — like the one
high on a hill near my home

i call it the wind tree
but it might
have other names
long forgotten

i like to climb
right up on it &
let myself hang

i go to hear it sing

some say this is where
the wind begins
i believe here, it ends
after racing the sun

you are often
at the wind tree
or in it, or around

you use my visits
to play melodies
upon the bridge
that is my bones

some days i go
to the wind tree
& some days,
the wind tree,
comes to me

BONUS POEM: April 21, 2018

For a few days, living a London idyll.

*****

soundproofing

the creaks
I don’t know
still startle

strange birdcries
strangle silence

pigeonwing applause

helicopters dance
every dawn

subterranean
tummy rumbles

halfheard whispers

conversation detritus

strangers footfalls
creaking up my stairs

opening doors
slamming doors
in rooms
with no doors

a woman washing dishes
in my cupboards

kids voices call
through windows
but not mine

all this life
lived underneath
next door’s buttons

Day 20 – pity party (& binge bash)

This was actually begun as a poem for someone else … & took a wrong turn along the way, which improved it immeasurably.

*****

wallows

was happily wallowing, wallowing;
in my heart of broken glass pain;
my sad song that never ends;
my woe-is-me tale of eternal misery;
with my wounded soul lying in a cave;
like a hippo in mud;
like the proverbial pig;
like the …
when i got to wondering
what other creatures like a good wallow.
a quick interwebbing told me
elephants & elephant seals
warthogs & rhinoceroses
tapirs & bison all do; some deer too.

accidentally learning along the way,
it’s a comfort behaviour, free sunscreen,
insect repellent, wet brush to enhance
moulting & remove parasites; as well as
aids social cohesion & play in young animals.

by which, i’d forgotten my mopery
(though i was a good deal itchier)

BONUS POEM: April 20, 2018

After a scare with their prepaid Skip the Line tickets I finally saw my mother (Old Ma Jones) & my niece inside, when I thought, WTH I may as join the end of the queue & see how long it actually takes. Seemed a shame to be so close & not even try.

*****

shadowvale

I did not leave
myself all day
lost in the space
I’m always lost in
— from here
I glimpse
things stranger
than I have known
things I could
once have been
were it not
for the shadows
in the vale

Day 19 – absences (& returns)

The third of three pomes all exploring absence in different ways. While not completely successful, it is the most successful of the three.

*****

absence iii

every so often your absence
is more noticeable, like today

the removed from the rainbow
…a heart only air
the that is all hole
…a night without any stars
the bullet the glass
…a spine with every missing
the who cannot blow fire
…a fish without

BONUS POEM: April 19, 2018

It can speak for itself.

*****

Homecoming

swan wings : the saw of the air : the piece : oftentimes : of return : the peace : the safety of a new place : where no one : any one : has their way : but every one : will prosper : coming through the lock : reflection ripples : relentless birdsong : playing dogs : oars up & back : leaping into the unknown river : willowy light : birthplaces : spires into memory : across time : making a mark : that lasts

Day 18 – dog praising (& flag waving)

Today’s pome is inspired by a poem I read part of yesterday & wanted to i) play around a bit, ii) try attempting a different form, iii) honouring a subject I rarely write about (haha).

The extract I’m referring to is taken from a very long poem Jubilate Agno (Latin: “Rejoice in the Lamb”) by Christopher Smart, written 1759-63, during Smart’s confinement for insanity, but first published only in 1939. Divided into four fragments A, B, C, & D the whole consists of over 1,200 lines: all the lines in some sections begin with Let; the other sections begin with For. The poem is chiefly remembered today for the 74-line extract wherein Smart extols the many virtues and habits of his cat, Jeoffry. It begins:

For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry.
……For he is the servant of the Living God duly and daily serving him.

& I will use the same/similar lines to begin my (considerably shorter paean).

*****

Jubilate Canis (shout out to my dog)

For I will consider my Dog Chester.
For he is the servant of the Infinite who is throughout the universe.

For this he performs in ten degrees.
For first he wisely sniffs every piece of food offered to him
For secondly he quickly, softly, licks my toes should a leg drop over the bed’s edge
For thirdly he rests neatly, his forepaws politely crossed
For fourthly he sleeps wildly, upon his back, legs sprawled in 9 directions, completely at peace
For fifthly he always stretches his back properly upon awaking
For sixthly at dawn he wishes to smell all that his new in his yard & let others know of his return to dominance
For seventhly, beneath the desk even as I type, he reaches out a paw to ensure there is contact with my foot
For eighthly believes when he has the ball, all others want the ball, & it is his sworn duty to protect & retain the ball
For ninthly he does not consider himself too big to climb onto my lap & cradled like a babe
For tenthly he still whines excitedly (& only a little pathetically) at the gate, when I have been away a long time, as if he did not believe I was ever returning to him
For food
for walk
…………………………..for pat
for drive all delight in equal measure
For he is optimism beyond all reason for hope
For he finds joy in the simplest of things.

For while I claim he performs divine duty in ten degrees
For sure I could easily list ten times ten times ten more.

BONUS POEM: April 18, 2018

You don’t see as much of this in Australia, though it is getting worse…

*****

flags

proudly flapping
every where you go
patriotism overload
overwhelming, cloying
we have hung
them everywhere
outside our homes
along the roads
on tree branches
twigs, bushes, brambles
caught on wire
strung from fences
in towns, cities
& isolated country
hideaways
places you wouldn’t
places they shouldn’t
shreds of flag
shards of flag
a sliver, a scrap, a slip
the smallest fragment
enough to remind us
you can’t escape
the jingoistic fervour

despite the propaganda
it’s hard to take pride
in any of our billion
billion plastic pennants

Day 17 – tops (& tails)

An auspicious start to the day. Happy 95th Birthday gran.

*****

day of birth

air of gold sky of water
bow of rain leaves of blood
a promise of home

BONUS POEM: April 17, 2018

One of the highlights of the trip is seeing these little critters first hand. Pookie you’ve got a lot to answer for.

*****

the shadetails

now seen : a dozen, more?

frozen tension : quicksilver bounce : flag fluttering frenzy : the business end ; of the gymnast’s ribbon : electrified question marks

still every time : there’s a flash : a furry pulse : an extrapolated heartbeat : I experience : a silken thrill : of my own

Day 16 – fire (& stone)

Spent a large chunk of my writing time today trying to craft a pome comparing & contrasting the fire at Notre Dame with the fire in our climate. While many parts worked, a few did not & I realised longer would be needed to resolve the kinks.

However, while researching the idea I came across another, far less known story, which led to this …

*****

holy houses

in less widely covered news, the revered
al-asqa mosque in east jerusalem
was also struck by (a far less dramatic)
blaze at the same time as notre dame’s
inferno in france — damaging solomon’s
stables beneath a corner of temple mount

here’s a thought:
perhaps god is trying to tell us something

BONUS POEM: April 16, 2018

The theme persists.

*****

immemorial

stone is worn
moss softens
lichen gathers
chiselled lines
flatten
it rains hard
the sun shines
& pretty soon
everything
is forgotten

Day 15 – sadness (always sadness today)

29 years today.

*****

home, less

the home is new
but sadness stays

my old heart yearns
for all the birthdays

that never came
.

.
BONUS POEM: April 15, 2018

Today. Every year.

*****

goldfish kisses

in the back of memory
monks monophone softly
as fish shivers pianoforte
glockenspielling my spine
these tingling goldfish kiss
past present & forever
into one molten lovechant
calcium dissolving moment
lift me up-in-to you
a been apart too long
old friend reminder

the sadness builds
I wait
to come home

gareth roi poet boi

gareth roi's playful poetry place

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Tag Archives: NAPOWRIMO

Day 24 – glory (& well, more glory)

Day 23 – swans (& folios)

Day 23 – swans (& folios)

Day 21 – wind (& other noises)

Day 20 – pity party (& binge bash)

Day 19 – absences (& returns)

Day 18 – dog praising (& flag waving)

Day 17 – tops (& tails)

Day 16 – fire (& stone)

Day 15 – sadness (always sadness today)

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