fire-po
Poem #74 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction I spoke into the flames I spoke the words soft lest I should...
View Articleforgotten : the night
I was the forgotten one the day the sun forgot left churning in the dark no ray of light no beaming smile ever found me the chill of colour noir I made my own turned my back on belated entreaties...
View Article…of a cloud
the sound of a cloud is a lash of the wind singing treble in high registers the sound of a cloud is three birds frantic fleeing the storm that boils close behind the sound of a cloud is a rain...
View Articlea gleam in shadow
there is no shine like the shine that glints a knife under the moon like a star hid within a shadow do not approach the stellar shine that knifes beneath the moon the shadow waits the shadow in the...
View Articlefrom another
Poem #75 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction it is a sky from another time I see basking beneath the sun...
View Articleredeemed
Poem #76 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction poorly badly descriptors of the life he lived the life he was...
View Articleevening cloud
cloud a) I have sprackled you grainy but so pretty you could have been through a telescope but I saw you in my back yard I saw you hanging over my back yard cloud b) cloud blue whoever thought to catch...
View Articleunseasonal snippets
a soughing wind slides by muttering susurrous hints and secrets buried beyond hearing within the prolonged hiss of its passing secrets are a cold confrontation suited best to the grey and cloud of...
View Articlea small cartography
Poem #77 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction the map of the world can only be drawn in dreams a cartography...
View Articlechild
I was born in the thunder birthed to the whip of the wind my father was known as the weather a cloud was my mother the womb and I would ride -saddled- the storm bucking the blitz strikes of lightning...
View Article