home paintings poetry short story Ch1
geoffrey gilmour b.1947
Tjukurrpa
Silent Seas Some time and a little care Bolstered high and forbearing no quiet moment To squeeze upon the shore An infinity of shape Delighful and opaque Confected ululations upon a vagrant heart Satrap embrace Brought convivial privilege Across a languid lawn Stretched forlorn and equivocal Far from meandering sentience Steering a path straight and true Half-way to paradise Sometimes I wish I was a penguin Flying under the waves of silent seas
                                                                        Extratxt Upon a path wet with unprocessed filigree He shunted his neighbour's wife for a bucket of humming bees Her purple tongue moaning with faint ullulation Swallowing yesterday's consternation Just for fun
Chimera Upon a river going nowhere at all Shone like a mirror dark and gilded on the wall Empty with no reflection What story there What storm before the fall
Centaur Aloft Sun you under a sultry sky Riddled with shame and quiet grief Stretched between strands of contentment Like a sigh she sat And run upon by winds Contained all imagination Frailty forgone and caste aside
Contumacious She stood contumacious at the wall Her shape resistant but finessed Pondered a second take, then Meandered slowly on Wistfully becalmed upon ideas from another time Beep beep beep
City boy City boy sitting in far away places Where the past flies buried unseen Found deep in forgotten traces Remnants of deeds untold Skin is the only thing I'm in I'm in Was all he could think or swim Upon her ocean's tender sleep
Whisper Pernicious waffle she says will be the making of a tale too tall to tell Too small to sell But turned on a whisper Whose breath entranced appetite’s fading whim And before shards of exhausted light did melt The sight of her percussive sensibility She learned of her sister’s art And found the test too lame to stir her sorry heart
Twins Like rippling curtains of colour Across a darkly dormant land Her Being scatters Intimations of fine feelings And impossible delight While undoing all her fixtures Easing into yet another wave of possibilities Always at the lip of Spring Fitting her infinity into tiny cups Of pretty porcelained passion And with the wings of memory We dress our earth-bound self Soaring to imagination's clear light
Midnight Ripped apart by unseasonable temptations She stepped like a whisper Into the howl of a gale Tossed upon a bedlam sea She dreamed a life entire Of candlesticks and turtledoves And sweet fulfilled desire But merely discourteous His lips steel Feigned a monstrous sympathy To ooze worthless sentience Upon her fearful eye.
Abbra The rise of the bell In short sharp steps Sent rivers of blame Into high dark sets Tumbling down on her wicked ways Till an unrepentant Sun Sang Sweetly To its dying day Sliding past floors Unvisited in night's bright trespass Cadabra Leaner than long And sweeter than strong Standing as One they stared But no tension could find No awkward surmise Could lead them away From heaven Succinct in serenity She walks toward me Her heart unloaded with clouds The sadness of memories Unstained and quite free
                                                                       Lozenge Orange lozenge brightly beveled Momently still before an aching sigh Cornered with ease Her delicate smile It’s gleam untempered Sentiment thinly woven Before an arc of winter’s triumph Swept across her brow Breathless and parched No sense of the line across Narrow jangled seas But traveled on Blind and forgiving Upon an incoming tide. And close upon breath’s flight Into places beyond delicacy She merely shone her sharp-edged sensibility To empty poses starved of shadow Glaring indelible Wishing only for another spark Sharp upon a moonlit man Waiting waiting Expectant Hungry for saturation’s Inevitable chagrin Stripped aside and ginger of excess Lay down Feted Then forgotten.
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Memento Mori poetry