A selection of poems I have composed

1. Poems
Honeymoon
Bugs crawl on bench tops
Searching for remains of cake
Finding a bouquet
A prayer for the Summer
Sun tiptoes timidly through the morning mist
A golden ring on winter’s frozen hand.
Collecting tendrils of fog as she insists
On dancing the twirling ribbons ‘cross the land.
And I, still dreaming, walk over floors of ice
Opening doors to the assault of glacial winds.
Water licking at the steps, like a plague of mice,
Pilgrims praying the dry warmth will absolve their sins.
Staring pleadingly at that golden, forgotten splinter
She flees the sky, resigning to Stanthorpe’s endless winter.
3 monkeys
Hear no evil, fight the tide.
A relentless torrent of polluted minds.
Weighted down words, crashing our thoughts,
Pushing us under, drowning our souls.
A poisoned barb from the eel of spite

2. Tattoos— ‘jealousy’, the tumour of pride
Locked in a hull with no windows and doors,
We need to be deaf if we want to float.
See no evil, shut your eyes
Focus on the surreptitious truths.
Innocence is a gift, don’t leave it to rot
In a sewer filled with your pornographic visions.
Distorted images, ourselves our own nemesis
Taunting, “We are the victims of an unfair God;
Who knows nothing of beauty and made us all wrong”.
We need to be blind to see ourselves clearly.
Speak no evil, hold your tongue,
Take control of what you think and say.
Don’t give torment a Pandora of regrets,
Silence is golden and eyes speak the truth.
We write songs, poems, stories, but still we stay dumb,
Talking to ourselves in languages never learnt.
It takes thirty-six muscles to throw someone a smile.
Changing a life without uttering a word.
And the breeze, the sky, the land, the oceans
The rocks, the mountains, the stars, the moon,
The past, the future, the spirits, the Gods
Call “shizaru shizaru! Above all, shizaru!”
Do no evil. Do no evil. Do no evil.

3. Sustantivo
I spiral high
Curling delicate fingers around stars
Drawing them down from their black velvet blanket
Into mist;
Spray from waterfalls of notes.
I linger shy
Being the timid voyeur in the shadows
Peering through the curtain at the lust barely veiled
By the night;
Bells, chilli and cinnamon skin.
I dance hot
Weaving between the looks of young lovers
Circling hearts in harmony with the winds
Woody songs;
Shivering, trying to contain the sounds.
I move light
Tracing the curves of your waist and thighs
Mirroring the hollow cave of my birthplace
Feminine secrets;
The heady perfume of twilight
I rest silent
Leaving the echo of whispered magic,
Fleeting harmonies gathering at my side.
Ribbons of sound
Gently stirring the song in your heart.

4. Socially Acceptable
By Gretel Diluca

5. Socially Acceptable
Coffee coloured dreams, coffee coloured nightmares.
Every day. Shoes on. Please get in the car.
Time marches on throwing commands as seconds pass.
Tick tock. Gunshot.
Armed men watching for any lapse in speed.
Baby strapped to back.
Pick the beans. Picking up beans.
Picking up keys. Baby on hip.
Take-away, drink on the run.
Black, white, mocha, latte.
Short black. Long black. Strong black.
A tribute to slavery.
Sun beating down roasting a darker melanin.
Naturally roasted beans are all the rave
at Starbucks.
I prefer a latte accompanied by a babycino.
Don’t spill the cup.
Although it’s not expensive. Children are cheap.
They don’t bruise the beans and they
chatter while they work.
Sounds vibrating through the air.
A coffee coloured story. An Esspresso flavoured tale.
Espresso Pronto. One sugar.
First coffee today.
One dollar a day. Instantly gone.
Instant pick-me-up. Incessant poverty.
They didn’t say it was Fair Trade.
Don’t worry, it’s organic.
Additive free. Addictive.