POETS The
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The
Shed
The ocher colored water
Washed out by thick raindrops
Continues running in the ditch
Behind the tattered spider web
A black stag beetle crawls
Across the ripples of bleached wood
The glass of the panes is dirty
Some were broken, some cracked
The wind whiffs into the shed
A 20 watt bulb hangs from the ceiling
Swinging a little back and forth
And with it the dim cone of light
Three broken parts selected for disposal
Set aside and put away meticulously
More won’t be cleaned up today
So the shed will remain unchanged
What it is and was – neat redundancy
Until
the Greek calends
Luccombe Chine
From the top
of the chine
Strolling
down the ravine
On steps
along the purling brook
You lost
yourself in an ancient book
We’ve bought
at Barney’s Emporium
You
remember? Next to the crematorium
You close
the book and suddenly
With awe you
recognize the scenery
Your feet
dance down so maidenly
Oh, my sweet
goddess of venery
Vines
joining willows and the bushes
We’re
heading for the tea room’s entrance
Not rushing,
but looking at the rushes
And smelling
the rose’s unfurling fragrance
Atlantis
The antediluvian kings
colonised the world
All the Gods who play
in the mythological dramas
In all legends from
all lands were from far Atlantis.
©1968 by Donovan
(Donovan Phillips Leitch)
Or Mention
My Name in Atlantis
What now
is known as an ocean
Once was
a continent
The
ancients called Atlantis
Votan
and Kukulkan to the West
Egyptian
gods to the East
And
farther East the Garden of Eden
And East
of Eden the Elysian Fields
The Ox
The ox
had driven the Golden Cart
On which
all wisdom was displayed
The House
In The
House there dwelled the sage
To tell
the future and the right
The Camel
To ride
the continent in disguise
To cross
the desert’s sand and stones
The Door
To knock
on the lonely door
And be
admitted to the room
The Window
To look
out of the window to the West
Waiting
patiently for the sun to set
The Hook
Saddle
bags and outer garments
The hook
would hold them for a night
The Weapon
The
weapon lay hidden but ready
To be
wielded against the enemy
The Wall
The wall
was high and treacherous
And no
one went across the coping
The Wheel
They
turned the wheel constantly
The
reason was lost in days of yore
The Hand
The
thief’s hand mummified long ago
Now
passed through hand and hand
The Palm of the Hand
There
were obscure ciphers
Written
in the palm of the hand
The Goad
They
used the wooden goad
To herd
their cattle, sheep, and goats
The Water
The
muddy waters of the brook
Moisten
fields of grains and roots
The Serpent
The
little serpent in the thief’s hand
Rubbed
off its former skin
The Fish
Abundant
fish in streams and rivers
Only the
occasional wanderer to fish for them
The Eye
The sage
would issue charms and amulets
To ward
off any curse or evil eye
The Mouth
The
mouth has opened in pain and distress
To yell
for help amidst the vastness of the heather
The Papyrus
Nothing
on the papyrus is of the common man
All that
is known is twisted hagiography
The Needle Eye
So far
we have ridden the camel
Just to
be stopped at the Needle Eye
The Head
The head
knows and the heart feels
And the
head goes to where the heart leads
The Tooth
The
ancient tooth of the dragon
Still
used to write powerful charms
The Mark
We wear
the mark of Atlantis
Given by
the priestess or the priest
When
Atlantis sank into the ocean
The
ancients manned vessels and fled
To Kukulkan
and Votan in the West
And the Egyptian
gods in the East
Deep in the Jungle
Deep
down in the shady greenery
Of the
Amazon rain forest
A
butterfly is fluttering
In a ray
of light reaching down
While
clouds and storms are building up
The tiny
butterfly unleashes
A
tropical storm, a hurricane
The
broad-leaved forests accommodate
Swarms
of monarch butterflies
Streaming
up and down
Below
the green leaves
Flitter
to and fro
In the
abyss of shadow and light
Chatter
round and round
Until
the hurricane sweeps through the forests
Scattering
the butterflies
After
the storm has passed
The
butterflies gather and fly
Above
the green leaves flapping below
The
giant swarm migrates
To the
sunny south
And deep
in the rain forest
Beneath
glossy leaves
Another
butterfly
Is
trying hard
To unleash
a hurricane
Butterfly
swarm shows up on Denver radar system
Butterfly
effect
Midnight Sun
Midnight sun circling
Above the Nordic horizon
In our dreams
The eldfjall did not break out
But
Dust has scarred the meadows
Fire has wrinkled the fields
Let’s not man the catafalques
But go for the longships
To seek new land and destiny
In our dreams
We row under the midnight sun
In our dreams
We reach the pastures afar
Let’s not man the catafalques
But launch the longships
The midnight sun is guiding us
To reach new shore and pasture
eldfjall – volcano
Canale
Where are the merry folks?
Where are dance and song?
The streets are void
The river slow
No boat on the water
The city languishes
Even the sun hides
Behind thin clouds
But maybe it’s just
Una pausa di mezzogiorno
When the world stops turning
And man sighs in his nap
Then the sun comes back
For a gorgeous sunset
The city comes to life
Boats cruise on the water
The river glows
The streets bustle
We join dance and song
We are the merry folks
Letters Left
After a
while
They found
Their love
had left
Just left
And then
each wrote
I don’t love
you anymore
And only
shortly
Afterwards
They started
Erasing
letters
Until
The letters
left
Were reading
I love you
St. Oswald’s Church
Coarse stone
Moss and
years
Whitewashed
wall
Oozing
collected prayers
Son of Æthelfrith
His hand not
to perish
The reverent
Blessing the
solemn parish
With the flow
In the river
flow
We look into
ripples
Waves
As they come
and go
Maybe a
crown tipples
Looking
deeper down
We perceive
the riddles
River
Has left so
far unknown
Or purposely
in diddles
We might
foolishly
Assume
knowing secrets
Water
Takes
unselfishly
That’s given
sans regrets
In the river
flow
We perceive
no riddles
Waves
Keep the
secrets alow
And our mind
just twiddles
Shangri-la
Shangri-la
Cell
Block of
flats
Cave
Anything
Doesn’t
Matter
The
View
Is taking
Place
In the
Cerebrum
Midsummer
Strange
That the
midst
Is only the
beginning
Strange
That
midsummer
Is such a
long dream
Strange
That a
summer
May last a
lifetime
Strange
That all
must end
But this
midsummer
The following prompts were used:
Luccombe Chine
#POETSLINEPROMPTS
(unfurling fragrance), hosted and invited by +Cherry A.
Canale
#poetsphotoprompts
#imageby +karen hayward
Hosted and invited by +karen Hayward
Letters Left
#PoetsLinePrompts
letters left
St. Oswald’s Church
#POETSPHOTOPROMPTS
invited by
+Wendy - Empathic Tigress
With the flow
#poetsphotoprompt#
hosted and
invited by +Bubbly and reinvited by +karen hayward
Midsummer
#POETSLINEPROMPTS
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