Poetry – Vienna Solsort

2016-07-18

outgrowing

black, white and shades of grey, a lithographic print with swirling tendrils, blotches, feathers and butterflies, the image is darker at the bottom. — Chaos – with butterflies

Snuffling…

nose pressed in close,

close to the mothers belly,

the human race suckles

mindless. Instinct

hanging in for dear life,

knowing only need.

Need and voracious appetite,

appetite that leads

to greed. The assumed

lifespan a finishing line

for ambition,

the amassing of wealth

and carbon

footprints enough to bury the earth.

As humanity grows

and outgrows

the miracle of its existence.

2015-12-05

winter

The spirit of winter flows

through the memory of

water molecules and

earth atoms; visits the land

with reminders of richness;

preparation that comes

before all new beginnings;

with celebrations of hope

contained within each unique

cycle of life.

2015-12-02

noises off

clouds partially obscuring a warm-honey-colour moon in a black sky, vague skeletons of trees in the left foreground. — Turpin moon

Black on black

rain from a night sky

and the bluster;

noises off.

Twigs and small branches

ride on the river;

the wet world

glistens; bows

under the Turpin moon

as chaos pants

and chases through

the sleeping valley.

2015-11-27

crown glory

on a blck background sits a crown of ice; it formed in the still water around the sides of an empty flowerpot. There are traces of brown fern embedded in the ice — ice crown

Finding ice on still water,

confirmation of winter;

and frost icing the tangle

of brown weeds dying beside

the still emerald greenness;

and the day, needing lighting,

takes me down, down where sunshine

is a private affair; down

where discipline is the life

that counters the grey, oppressed

isolation that threatens.

So, from here on in, the year

revolves around discipline

2015-11-20

tangled

a tangle of tree branches from fat trunk to thin twig against a clear blue sky. — tangled

The wind, fierce and bitter, power gusted;

willows lurched and swayed. Breath snatched from my face

hair shocked and tangled, I watch the river,

now clear, gather speed, smooth out lazy weed

in long silken strands of green; absorb lines

of almost frozen rain. I watch the flow,

the out of body sensation as breath

and water swirl away. Gone. Look away.

Look away and back, gasping thin cold air.

2015-11-17

the cycle

looking down on a red light almost submerged under grass and fallen leaves; the light looks yellow white in the centre, with a red halo fading to a dark green around the edges. — rubies

Time to abandon spring green,

time to reveal the cloth of gold

rubies, amber and fire opals,

Time to admit the true shape,

the true desires,

the burning fire.

Time.

Time to know that spring green

awaits a blanket of gold

to hibernate. Rubies, amber,

and fire

await. A cycle.

A life

time.

2015-11-09

leaving water

from the river bank, with brown skeletons of summer weeds, looking across the placid river to trees already stripped of autumn colour. — naked

I watched as rain levelled the river

in a light, strange grey, echoing the

damp, hard to define colour of sky.

Under my umbrella I remained

dry, but increasingly cold; soaked in

misery more chilling than water;

allowing the spirit of leaving

water to slide away with my heart,

all on the off-chance that you might be

passing and notice the fluttering.

Notice and reach out through the strangeness,

wherever it is that passing hearts fly.

2015-11-06

river dance

a gleaming white swan heads left in the image, its reflection clear in the kahki coloured water; weeds and bare tree branches occupy the foreground, leafy reflections make up the background — the swan

Slow, slow, no quick, the khaki coloured water

slid imperceptibly away from the old town;

empty water, silent, soulless and somehow sad,

She sat playing at the edge of the river,

her guitar across her knees, the case at her feet;

sound spilling wide quickened the life and the flow,

and the slow, slow twirled to a waltz, an elegant

race, a folksy tangle of upended ducks;

the swan appeared, the khaki cleared, as sound

sparkled and soft, danced its way through the air;

the spirit of music awakening life in the river.

I looked for her face, for the face I knew so well,

saw resolution, and unfamiliar dreams.

2015-11-02

forever

The sea at night, low light levels with the lights from the pier reflected in the water. — night light

Night comes early, warm yet, as the sun

heated earth glows under a melting moon;

a moon that rocks in the dark waterweed,

fragments in quiet ink-black eddies,

travels low over a sparkling

firmament of meandering stars, all

lost, wandering wild as love through the dark;

a reminder that some love is

forever. For as long as forever lasts.

2015-10-26

cloth of gold

firey autumn colours on small Japanese acers among the box cones in my garden — goldfire

On Sunday autumn shone in the river,

rich gold; wealth beyond containment,

beyond stashing away in vaults, beyond

the profit accumulating power

of the wrong kind of shareholders.

While the right kind open their eyes

drink in the essence of beauty,

feel its power course through their veins,

watch this abundance with their own kind of

generosity, free sharing

the cloth of gold in words of light.