Yeah
Sitting on the steps of Flinders
Her dress was the best mess
A shower of sunflowers unexplored
the snug caterpillars float
In little rocky sailing boats.
Yes, she was all alone
Lost in sea of epic emotions.
Yeah
Poetry
Places
Places
Up in the hills of Merri Creek
Dancing around my red brick walls
I breathe in the eucalyptus
Listening to urban laughs and tram bells
Wrapped in blankets of holidays past
Dreaming of the day I can leave
Just so I can come home again.
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Metaphorical Self-Portrait
Metaphorical Self-Portrait
I am the steeple’s rose
Lost in enigmatic love
I want to be that pig in mud
Playing in a sea of straw.
But I inhale the dragon
Stone-washed eyes
Mask frustration
As the fear burns.
The rose forgets to breathe,
When it’s caught in a breeze.
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Glo/NaPoWriMo 2020 #1 Bird
Prompt: Bird
Morning calls a fine fluty song
Arousing the sky into awake
Gliding into the grassy throngs,
Perching still on the misty lake.
I’m enthralled by their poetry
Enchanted by them musically
Silent, listening quietly.
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Nonsensical Confusion
I almost spoke them
Two and three letters.
Would be all it takes
to break the chasm.
But these walls just won’t be broken,
banterous words left unspoken
everyday is a decision
to honour this fixed deletion.
I felt the presence
and I took a breathe
to let out, a sound
but nothing happened.
It’s like standing from a tall bridge
colours of the world mesh into one
I can’t tell a snake from a sparrow
it’s just something I used to know.
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That old man
Alone upon the mountainside
Our hero hid and cowered
Born of Dickensian yuletide
He persona was rather dour.
His sandy hair was stiff as straw
His hat feeble and frail
His feet cemented to the floor
cold on his mountainside jail.
Glaring down into the valley
He chided his creators
Captivated infinitely
Upon a sea of haters.
Alone upon the mountainside
Our hero watched and wondered
Weathered, beaten, and cockeyed
What life had he plundered?
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Friend
Floating stories like balloons in the sky
Revelling in their strong silver linings.
Imagining the shoes of someone else,
Entwining and binding the quirks of us.
Never be the one that I used to know
Don’t leave me. I can’t let you go.
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Do you ever feel like a human fail?
Inspired by #itsokaynottobeokay
Do you ever feel like a human fail?
Like you’re missing a piece of the puzzle,
That you were so focused in the long trail
You forgot to give the now some trouble.
I can’t remember when it all started
When did I become these broken doll parts?
How did my life become so uncharted?
What lies inside? Is there even a heart?
I don’t know how to be. What is human?
Getting lost in white petals of Spring,
Conversing in emotional fusion
Bonded by the desires to stand and sing.
Who can tell if we are doing this right
I just do, say, and hope. That is my plight.
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Nothing happened
Her mind does not have a default setting,
It’s a spag bowl of anarchic thoughts
Rich in flavour and strong in vetting
The myriad of moments her eyes have caught.
Categorising from thumbs up to thumbs down
pushed an acquaintance from friend to foe
Like a cut apple beginning to brown
A shrivelling font, a footnote, in her bio.
Once upon a time in a far off place
Happy never after faded on the page
Standing tall she continued with grace
And exited left off his centre stage.
Her mind took a second to think and grieve
but the sun rose again, now she can breathe.
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Commuter Life
They fell like tears
Across the greyness
Left the right
To the spaghetti
-lined goldfish bowl.
Charlie Ann Alford 
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