NaPoWriMo – 30/30

Turn the page to Campion,
a long gone town of champions.
Major Meredith then Pearce
fought with tactical fierce.
In weary desert ambience
they danced a military dalliance.
Our legends fell prey
to a maddening day
with enemies scattering
the rain kept spattering
hindering the fray
they just wished them away.
But the enemy wanted the shore
the farmers wanted no more
so they got out their guns
under the blistering sun
and fell to the floor
fighting hand to claw.
Inspired by odd moments of history.
The Great Emu War, this is a true story.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emu_War

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NaPoWriMo – 29/30

Circumstance in your hand
the script has been set
the characters cast.
the stage awaits
the first smell, the first taste
the story begins.
The carousel is spinning
every thought, feeling shaping
and moulding a human.
Circumstance in your hand
are your eyes open?

NaPoWriMo – 28/30

I love,
opening my heart
the smell of spring matters
flowers dance across fields
squinting in the sunshine
my faith is at home.
We have no control
a past truth will slice
today’s soul into a million pieces
flowing into tomorrows crevices
crying beyond the surfaces
it will be the white noise
of our love.

NaPoWriMo 27/30

An Unwarranted Carping

OMG you’re wound incredibly tight
like the thread of Rumples spinning wheel
a deliberate mass of insecurities
words striking your heart
like the pings of the sewing needle.
Sorry! Did i verbally fart?
I feel – like the mountain beyond the valley
hard, unforgiving and severely cold.
I emulate the emotions I’m shown
an uncontrollable stream of wait, what.
My branches are harsh, you were warned, told
I’m not made from the same cut.
Do I even have a heart?
Go ahead and lick you wounds,
I’m not waiting, I have no hi, or hugs
This wolf does not howl at the moon,
nor does the mountain accomodate
incessantly petulant bugs.

NaPoWriMo 24/30

Elegy

You were like Nelsons Column
standing tall, strong and solid
a friend and confidante, you
held us together like glue.
Your children scattered worldwide
letters flew from north to south
telephone calls day and night
in darkness, you were our light.
You found me in an island
told me stories of times past
spray painted silver holly
and entertained my folly.
But one day I woke up cold
the world had deleted you
vanished from weekend play dates
disappeared without a trace.
We didn’t know what happened
We didn’t have any clue
We waited for you to ring
But all we had was nothing.
Just a picture on the wall
your children’s children ask who
is that bright beaming shadow
we cry, just somebody we used to know.

NaPoWriMo – 21/30

Standing on the edge of tomorrow
her mind drifts like the creek she loves
drowning in her despair and sorrow
her darkness pulls her from above.

She meanders all the same highways
She jumps through the loops, as you do
But she never has something real to say
She’s just there, just something like you.

Alone in her urban cage, waiting
dreams of what it’s like to be them
jealous of the fun they are having
she stares out, looking into them.

They look at her as the special one,
they say hello, heads cocked to one side
quiet smiles before they shun
so they can tell each other they tried.

They think, she thinks she’s above them all,
that she’s a snob, rude or uptight.
They think, she thinks she can stand up tall,
but she can’t, there’s no life, there’s no fight.

She’s anchored by the rain of sadness
she see’s herself in The Hollow
and they see her as a human mess
a being not worthy to follow.

So she’ll stand alone in tomorrow
deflecting all humanity
they’ll call her a narcissistic pro
an order for one of vanity.

But, the truth appears in flecks of waves
each tide reveals a mystery
truth, no one knows how to play this game
although it comes to some more easily.

They say Narkissos fell to hubris
that he set himself apart from them
perhaps beauty was his lonliness
and it was not for them to condemn.

NaPoWriMo – 19/30

Cars paint every spot
the space left snakes
the creek sides
squeezing the space
like an elephant on your chest.
A bicycle sits snug
against the bowing tree
as it branches
spills over balconys
and abandoned talk radios
cover children’s laughter
from the urban mess
the city lines harsh
on a blue canvas
that turns to pink
then grey smoke or fog
blending into the bricks
and confusion of
chaotic urbanism.