A poetic licence to experiment
Evening falls and we crawl in a funeral like procession locked in the traffic of life. Each face tells a different story, each expression A different tension. Guzzling engines emit
Poisonous fumes into the atmosphere. Do we realise the damage we are doing to the planet, that the cumulative effect is slowly killing us. If we do we are ignoring the obvious. We are feeding our gluttonous earthly ambitions and driving ourselves over the cliff into the ever yawning mouth of the melting ice caps.
11.02 and silence reigned
Unaware of future pain
The bomb dropped fast
A shadow cast
Children burned stomachs churned
The atom bomb had just returned
World war amended in a moment
An act of Japanese atonement
They shatter Nagasaki dreams
Mushroom clouds obscure sunbeams
Will we ever learn from history deeds
And give our children the peace it needs
Jpoet7
Magic mushroomsAn Aphrodisiacs’ repast. Departed for dessert.
Jpoet7
A moment in time
Ensconced on the balcony overlooking the tennis courts.A balmy breeze brings with the sounds of seagulls gliding high above. Somebody nearby is cooking lunch and soft music emanates from surrounding open windows. Jet streams crisscross the blue sky and a single engined plane makes its way to an unknown destination. A dog barks in the distance, a car brakes, a child cries. All incidents unrelated but still caught in the moment.poet7
Alone she stands, numbed by the tragedy that was now her life . The glazed look on her wizened face,shrouded by her long silver locks exudes the sorrow that lies within. She had come to say farewell to her husband , friend and companion who for many years had made her laugh. Now was not the time , a wooden box , a crucifix is all that’s left behind
Funny what you remember when thrown a lifeline. I smell strawberries, see candy striped deck chairs, a small slender grey haired lady always ( as I remember dressed in black ) respectful of authority both church and state . Manners , speak only when spoken to. It was the late 1950s another world, when it seemed life was simple, eat sleep, play.
I cannot hear her speak, isn’t that funny all those summers and not a word. Oh yes I remember the crossword and spot the ball in the paper you could win a prize 2/6p a fortune when you were 5.
I remember our walks to the shop for ice cream . The sun always shone at grandmas.pass the church, slight genuflection bless yourself . Meet the priest , salute. The streets were busy with horse and carts and bicycles very few cars.
I always remember feeling safe and happy. Maybe it’s that I’m looking back with rose tinted glasses. I never remember feeling bored , then again I never remember doing anything, it doesn’t make sense but that’s how I remember it.
In a nutshell my grandmother was a quiet lady who spoke by her manner and facial expression. I cannot remember her passing, I was possibly protected by my parents from that experience. I do not remember missing her , I probably never really knew her, which was a pity really as she had lived through the boer war , two world wars and many depressions , come to think of it she had very little to be happy about.
Jpoet7
Jpoet7
jpoet7/Joseph Black Photography 