Category: Poetry and Prose

Bubble Sky

Outside my window pane

There is a bubble filled sky

Perfect for a dreamer like me

Lock myself in a winter hut

Walking in the Scotland rain

Retreat

Wet with the nippy April rain

Wade through the forest of blue gums

Nature’s offer feeding the rowdy musk lorikeets

Bubbly green, blue, yellow and red feathers

Cheering me on this journey of avoidance

Escape from being buried in the world ‘s clutter

Deep moss and towering gums

My shelter and refuge

Beauty in The Falling

Our dreams have fallen at some point. It bruises us. Dreams get buried and forgotten most of the time. Occasionally, something picks them back up like the wind blows the fallen leaves, they take fly again and reveal once more how beautiful and enticing they once were before they touched the ground and got trampled on.

Autumn Is Eatable

I taste the autumn colours

The crisp of lime

The zest of lemon

The sweetness of peach

The uncertainty of tangerine

And the unexpected quietness of dragon fruit

Living on Struggle Street

It’s a day

Without the sun

Slippery wet

Smells mould

My chest

Screams fear

Of another attack

The soup kitchen

Is five blocks away

I rather battle

Stomach acid

Than the cold

My baby’s looking at me

Wide eyed and whining

It sucks

To be poor

Sick

And a dog owner

Simple But Impossible

In my dream

We grow old together

You bring me a cup of tea with trembling hands

I ask you to go for a walk with me

And you still say no

Changeable

Sometimes memories stay anew like pure quartz while other times are like crumbling sand

Desire

The autumn wind combs the sunlight into golden locks

Resting on his heaving chest from a satisfying afternoon nap

Her chestnut eyes crackling in the fire of longing

Such desire, too wild to tame

Are They Really Spare Rooms?

Almost 58,000 families and individuals are waiting for affordable housing in New South Wales, Australia.

They are sleeping in their cars, in their family or friends’ couches or garages, in tents in parks, in cardboard boxes on park benches.

How many vacant properties are there?

How many spare rooms are in our homes?

Reality Hits

Living Poetry prompt – Useless

I don’t ever want you feel sad

But wishful thinking is useless

I don’t even know if you are ok

Now I am no longer in your life