Big Triku ‘Us’

We are

                                               lost.

Found.

                  Free.

Full.

s   a   i   s
 w  w  n   t
  e    a         o
    p    y          r
     t                    m
                               s.

                                               Lost.

Washed up

      in the lee.

~

We freeze

      as sheer

            translucent

waves,

      pounding down,

            atomised,

                  clothing

savage rocks in

      seething

            white.

~

We

      matter.

~

Let’s

      fill

our

      hearts

and

      face

the

      future

            walking

      hand

in

      hand.

~ ~

Note: this poem is a spin off concept from the poem ‘Who Matters?’ (Menu, Poems, Who Matters?)

(Also see Menu, Poetic Adventures, ‘Who Matters?’: An Adventure Exploring Poetic Technique)

Haiku ‘Flood’

Great tide. Glass water

melts across the sterile fields,

as land becomes sea.

~

Note: this Haiku is a spin off concept from the poem ‘Let’s Save The World’ (Menu, Poems, Let’s Save The World).

Also see Menu, Big Triku, Big Triku ‘Berg’ 🙂

Let there be a Storm

Please, please, let there be a storm,

let the fierce winds shake the trees

and scream across the rocky heights,

the mounting violence shape the seas

with sloping greys and foaming whites,

howling round the rooftops, flicking rain,

spattering against the window pane.

~

And may the storm not peter in the night

but rage around the dark outside

and thump against the soaking walls,

and roar across the valleys wide

with branches breaking in the squalls,

the frightening force felt far and high and deep,

the maelstrom building beyond our gentle sleep.

~

And when I wake and find the storm has grown,

I will want to fly out in the rain,

enjoy the dim and early light

and race to feel alive again

while thrown about in Nature’s fight.

I shall run and run, heart pounding, to the sea

and face that fearsome wind and feel so free.

~

Grassy land with monstrous waves each side,

my plinth amidst the seething white,

leaning forward, arms spread wide,

flapping overpowered kite,

blasted back by its appalling might.

I will shout and scream, but my tiny voice be drowned

in the magnificent storm and its searing, awful sound.

Rocky Beaches

On rocky beaches boulders stand and shingle clatters down the age old slope,

the arched waves hunch their shoulders, fall, and shingle shatters once again to land

beneath tremendous roaring swell to drag them tumbling back without a hope,

and far away the pouring spray is heard, and rumbling breakers on the sand.

Note on this poem; this was actually one stanza I remember of a larger poem which I wrote over 25 years ago, but I find it also works as a poem in its own right. If I locate the written copies of my older poems in future, I may publish the full version of the poem.