My monthly poetry challenge is over, but I am still trying to write poetry when the muse strikes. I will be resuming my course soon, and that is likely to lead to a hiatus here. For now – here is a shadorma inspired in part by listening to a Kate Grenville novel during my morning beach run, and my continued indignation and shame at Australia’s treatment of asylum seekers.
pierce an unfriendly
blind eyes to
children’s dreams hanging like ghosts
On the moonlit wires
Drawn from one of those delicate parenting afternoons: another shadorma, with the additional challenge of including at least one pair of homophones.
See saw girl
Swinging without pause
Scare the cat who lashes back
with her paws
A shadorma today – inspired by watching the trees die on the land being developed opposite my home.
Dying trees embrace
While for sale signs flourish like
Mushrooms in the night
She sits silently on the step
Tendrils of smoke drift wistfully
Over the greying back garden
Numb with cold and predictability
A slow deep breath, and memories
Abandon her like motes in sunlight
confusion and fear bide their time
Inspired by a friend, today’s poem is an attempt at a tritina – a shorter version of the complex sestina. It was very challenging to choose end words to repeat throughout the poem.
Tenderly he brushes hair from her face
Tears on his cheeks as he cradles her hand
Silent wonder, is this where they will end
A new voice and dayshift slides to an end
The nurse speaks but he can’t lift up his face
Soft on his shoulder, she settles her hand
She straightens the sheets, he gives her a hand
Footsteps fade as the round comes to an end
He heaves the chair close and lays down his face
Her face warm on his hand, he dreams the end
I have missed a few posts because of general busyness, and because Saturday’s challenge to write an erasure poem from the first chapter of Paddington Bear stumped me. I wrote a couple of cinqkus and a shabby set of rhyming couplets, but they need more work and I although I have posted them on the Month of Poetry website, I am not including them here.
Here is a cinqku for today.
Heart and feet
The rhythm is running
This cinqku reflects on the stress of parenting children as they become more adventurous…
Wet giggles and I breathe