Hot Cross Buns And Chocolates

The poem here, is my attempt to write an abecedarian poem – a poem in which the word choice follows the words/order of the alphabet.

Hot Cross Buns And Chocolates

America, here I come, ready or not

Beyond my bed-zoned borders

Chasing those forgotten horizons

Dreams are finally blossoming

Easter treats are tucked in my pockets

Fancy editions of my poems, are packed in the case

Giant airports and planes abound

Hot cross buns, and more chocolates are eaten

Inspiring my week’s holiday mood

Jet engines soaring aloft

Kidnapping me by default

Lawyers left floundering

My medical records lost in transit

Naughty nightingales, again covering for me

Opening my doorways, to the promised land

Passing high above the melody, at heaven’s archway

Quarantine played, Leonard’s Tower Of Song

Rumblings, I hear from a distant Bensalem yard

Spiritual chants, from my family circle

Telepathic messages, humming on a magic carpet ride

Unbroken my promise, now to be honoured

Vikings and villains to be avoided

Weapons disguised, under the statues torch of liberty

Xylophones I hear, playing on the streets of New York

Young ladies are dancing to my tune, Hallelujah

Zero-ground, salutes me there, staying upside down

My Five, But I’m Only Allowed Two !!

Dear readers and followers, I’m in a conundrum. Below are five of my poems that I’ve choosen to submit for pubilication, in the 2019 Geelong Writers Annual Anthology. The problem for me, is that I’m only allowed, to submit TWO !!! Please help… if you wish to, chose “2” and mention them in your comment on this article…. I would gratefully accept any feedback… Thank you…. And Of course I have to do my submission before I leave for New York, on Wednesday 24th April.

*1 I Dream On Snippets

I’m living on snippets

A snip here, a piece there

I don’t watch TV news nor read newspapers

There’s no need to see more

False dreams don’t swim in my sea

And realities fill my soul with broken keys

I don’t watch many movies

I know their spirit’s are within me

And their ghosts live beyond what I see

I’m sipping on the holy grail

A thimble of wine

To a chalice of water

There’s no need to drink more

Rivers of tears have already flooded my heart

And clouds fill my soul with yesterdays rain

I’m eating snippets

A morsel here, a crumb from there

I don’t hunt for my groceries

There’s no need to eat more

Food magically lands on my plate

Delivered by angels who look after me

I’m breathing wisps of air

Gasping for my invisible share

Enough to activate my inner being

There’s no need to inhale more

The sky is infinite and free

And the trees air fills my lungs, regenerating me

*2 Leafless Branches

There’s a warning sign swirling in my yard

Words are being splattered on my fence

Blown in by today’s gale

Leafless branches are flying around

Nature’s own, final count down

Suddenly, on the horizon, there’s a red-brown cloud

Rolling in, over the barren hills

And a dust-storm quickly engulfs the air

Racing silver clouds and blue sky

Invisible through the thick red haze

Dry topsoil from the western plains

Aerially transported by the wind’s angry throat

And there’s no calming the dusty tempest

Until mother nature has had her way

I stand here, leaning against her force

Feeling her violence, pitch dirt in my face

*3 My Rainbow

Over mountains, into a distant sky

Blazing hues of African butterflies

Sparkling reflections of our last goodbyes

Did you see my yesterday rainbow

She’s ruby red, yellow and blue

The heavenly ring, in everyone’s view

Above you, a perfect archway

Behind you, a forever shining sun-ray

Around you, a golden halo everyday

*4 Don’t Ask Me Why

Unknowingly, I often dream of her serene ashen face

Years ago, I gently held her frailty in my tired arms

Softly whispering to her, last words of love and grace

Don’t ask me why, I count the days, since I’ve missed her charms

I cannot give you a sensible nor plausible answer

Don’t ask my why, I count the weeks, since I lost my way

I’m unable to fathom the depths of my inner cancer

Don’t ask me why, I count the months, since she died that day

Because I’m still gradually recovering

Remembering she’ll never ever go away

And somehow, I’m steadily rediscovering

Knowing someday, I’ll be allowed to stay

*5 Beyond The Brick Wall

My time’s feeling lost and unrequired

Yesterday, I was worn and tired

Today, I did reach for the sky

Tomorrow, I’ll give life another try

Yesterday, I hit the brick wall

Today, I jumped every puddle

Tomorrow, hurdles will be castles in the sand

Everyday, my unknown future lays in my hands

Every-week, my dream looks like potter’s clay

Today, I uncovered tomorrow is the next day

Tomorrow, is not my vision of times to come

Tomorrow, is the beginning of my shining sun

My Good Friday

This lazy day was good to me

After earlier, I wondered

If I’m physically unwinding

Or am I mentally gearing up

I thought, all in good time

My body and mind

Would find their, common landing ground

My morning walk, along the Ted Wilson Trail, felt good

Not too far, but long enough

To know I’d achieved a good number of steps

Then I gave Yorkie two good pedals

Along with two good sessions of balance exercises

Late afternoon, and my travel case’s in good order

Nearly packed, clothes neat and looking good

Not too many sets, but just enough

To feel warm and cool, attired in style

The relaxing day was good for me

And even good, for a piece of poetry

Time Off, Time’s Awry

Your Wednesday Word Prompt is ‘Time Off’

I’ve had more ‘time off’ over the last 6 months, than I’ve every had ‘time off’ in my entire life. None of the months were an enjoyable ‘time off’. I was sick, bedriden, and hospitalised for those 6 months. I had many dreams and nightmares and they were frightfully vivid during my ‘time off’, I was, always tired, forever sleeping, and trying to recover from my lost ‘time off’…. Here is a typical dream/nightmare, poem from those days of ‘time off’..…. << please check here to visit the “Weekly Word Prompt” site.

Time Off, But Time’s Awry

Last night I awoke in a pool of blood

Surviving Noah’s great flood

There was no bleeding horse head

It wasn’t a dream, I wasn’t dead

The nightlight died instead

A dark shadow engulfed my bed

Sheets of oozy dripping threads

A deep flowing red

From where, I do dread

Petrified, motionless I’m spread

The hole in my heart is dry

Fearful tears of crystal white I cry

My bloodshot eyes are weeping, time’s awry

Puddles of gore descend from the Boar’s sty

Visions of devils and angels pass my eyes

I’m not ready to say my goodbyes

Am I suddenly being nailed to the cross to die

Or is it, that cupids’ arrow in my thigh

My Star In The Purple Sky

Another birthday for my gracious lady, I’ve written a new birthday poem for her this year, I’m beginning a new dawn, somehow, my body has been renewed, I’m wearing new shoes, and I’m flying across those new purple skies, going to New York and Philadelphia. I’ll go gather up new blossoms, and glittering American violet blue stardust, I’ll bring them back for you, and sprinkled the petals of family love, covering you, with a new colourful mauve blanket of love, ….. Oh, I can see your gorgeous everlasting smile,…… there in front of me…….

My Star In The Purple Sky

My morning flowers

Blossomed, a violet blue

For her and me

The sun filtered through

Casting a purple shadow

Over you and I

Delivering our mauve star

Into the distant sky

Where she shines nightly

Looking over you and I

“Distant Sky”

[Nick Cave:]
Let us go now, my one true love
Call the gasman, cut the power out
We can set out, we can set out for the distant skies
Watch the sun, watch it rising in your eyes[Else Torp:]
Let us go now, my darling companion
Set out for the distant skies
See the sun, see it rising
See it rising, rising in your eyes[Nick Cave:]
They told us our gods would outlive us
They told us our dreams would outlive us
They told us our gods would outlive us
But they lied

[Else Torp:]
Let us go now, my only companion
Set out for the distant skies
Soon the children will be rising, will be rising
This is not for our eyes

Under The Snow

A special poem I wrote, after I’d taken my Lady to hospital for the last time, on the day of her last birthday. seven years ago. Happy Birthday Carole, and I wonder if you still wonder that I wonder, wishing upon your wondrous mauve star…….

Under The Snow.

We emanate to a birthday.

We deflate to a final day.

Birthdays, they all come, they all go.

Birthdays, in the sunshine, under the snow.

Birthdays, slow to mature, quickly an aeon.

Birthdays, before we are born, after we are gone.

Birthdays, hanging on by a breath.

Birthdays, nailed to a cross ’til death.

What’s it all mean to be alive and cry.

What’s it all mean to live and to die.