Glass Jar

My mind is encased in a glass jar.
Thoughts swarming like flies
To a neon lamp.
The constant buzzing and tapping
reminds me that I am safe
Yet trapped.
The intense silence is deafening
As it engulfs everything that is,
Until finally all that is left
Is what might or might not be.

Red Earth

Red earth like rust as a dirty car
Rattles past the ragged fruit stall,
Blinding in shades of red and green.

Red sun over jagged mountain,
Silver against the bleeding sky;
The strike of a spear cleaving skin.

Black faces bold against the dirt
With shining eyes and gleaming teeth,
Their Masai garb red as the fire.

Small children riding donkey carts
Laugh and jolt as red hooves clatter.
'round them are chickens, free to roam.

Morning

*MP*

I crept to the window
As a red circle devoured the dark.
It licked softly the dome of the sky.
And stars, like a thousand milky fish
Swam into the blue.

Into Day

*MP*

I found her dancing in the mirror.
Light like liquid streaming through her hair.
On a Summer night,
With a thousand ghostly sounds -
A rhythm and a champagne voice
Haunting the silent wood.
Naked.
Blushing.
Laughing.
Born to tread the starry sky
As vast hours melt into day.

"Find a Penny..."

Does everyone pick up a penny lying on the pavement or is it just me? I must have made more than a few pounds over the years with this habit, but it also means that I spend most of my time looking at the ground as I walk. A character flaw? It was Ani Difranco who said:

“When I look down, I miss all the good stuff, when I look up, I just trip over things”

And why is it usually a single penny? Why never 2p? Every now and then I get lucky and find a 5p coin and on one occasion a 20p coin, but it’s usually just the lone penny. I have a special pot in which I store these lone coppers – it is amazing how they mount up over time.

However this compulsion is not without its dangers. I have, on many occasions nearly tripped the person walking behind me by suddenly stooping, backside in the air, to collect said coins. Once I was nearly run over by an unseen car as I spotted a copper on the road. Every hobby should have its risks!

I was in York in February and everywhere we went people had found excuses to throw pennies into various holes or pits. Superstition? Or a generous heart’s tiny contribution to our heritage? It has been suggested that tourists throw around £3,000,000 a year into ‘wishing wells’.

Another quote suggests itself:

“pennies in a well, a million dollars in the fountain of a hotel” – Pink

The superstition behind pennies apparently comes from the time when metal (specifically iron) was believed to protect against evil. This is why people used to hang horse-shoes over their doors, so carrying pennies should have the same effect (lucky me)!

I also discovered the idea of the ‘wishing well’ stems from the Germanic people who used to throw the armour of defeated enemies into pools as their offering to the gods. Oh yes, I have done research – as I said before, I am a glutton for the details!

Coffee Cup (variations)

*MP*

Voices in my coffee cup sing of a night
Broken by lights and rainbow ghosts.
Eternity floats beneath a milky sky of stars.
In its rich liquid swims the silver moon.

OR

My coffee cup sings of a night, broken
As diamond stars through steaming windows bloom.
Eternity floats through a milky sky
In its rich liquid swims the silver moon.

Again just playing with words. No idea where the inspiration came from - I don't drink coffee.

'Voices' (variations)

*MP*

Eternal voices cloud the Autumn stars
With memories beneath a winter moon.
The silver sky shines with cool spring light.
Does Summer's rose break the earth too soon?

OR

Eternal voices cloud the vast Spring stars
With memories beneath a Summer moon.
The golden sky shines with Autumn light.
And Winter's rose breaks the earth too soon.

Just playing with magnetic poetry. Nothing spectacular. Perhaps I will come back to this later.

Girl in Waves

Inspired by 'Playing Canute'
Painted by Janet Ledger

Child of the waves,
Life whirls in her wake.
From her salty footprints
Mirrored pools reflect the sky.
Out of the endless blue she sees
The horizon, drawn close by the tide.

This is not exactly a cinquain, but follows the same idea... I did not plan this structure - it occurred naturally.

Poem for 08-08-08

We may not be where we expected;
Each new day, a new surprise.
All those dreams in eyes reflected
Like newborn suns, our futures rise.
They shine with all those plans, perfected,
Happiness spread across the skies.

-Untitled-

Dare not fly blind, brilliant child.
Explore eternity with those morning eyes,
Question all but the magic of life
And the joy of a virgin sky, blushing
At the touch of an impassioned sun.