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Monday 7th of July

July 7, 2014

Here is the revised version of a poem I wrote recently. A little bit better, but I could still chop at it I suppose! I have been writing a little, but not sharing much of it. I have been in Japan 6 months now and actually spent the first months here collaborating with my sister on some writing, who is currently an artist in Germany. So, I have started my new poetry project called “Besides the Nagara”, which is the river running through my current city, Gifu. No real meaning to it, kind of off the top of my head, but it is a beautiful spot and I like swimming there in the mornings and weekend, so I am sure it will become one of my muses! Enjoy and perhaps you will see some more scratching soon.

 

AJG

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The Cycle (revise)

July 7, 2014

 

Snow vomits down,

purging itself from the sky.

Frozen parcels bond and form

in perfect unity. Symmetry.

How do they choose who to grasp?

Much like us I suppose

by the random grace of proximity.

Freeze in form and tear away

leaving gases and liquids

for something more tangible.

Seizing one another until the weight combined

is too much for the sky to bear.

Plummet down

individuality forgotten

for a common need to survive.

Finding shared purpose

in the roil of frozen storms.

Clasping one another through the cloud break

how must they feel?

As the ground moves closer

is there panic, fear, resignation

or nothing?

Soon nothing.

Soon as much as there ever was.

As much as they ever were.

From the sky to the sea to the earth

and all again they return.

A brief cohesion and confusion

settling once once more

into the cycle of rebirth.

 

 

AJG

h1

The cycle

May 23, 2014

 

Snow vomits down,

purging itself from the sky.

How do these frozen parcels

choose how to form and

who to bond to in perfect unity?

Much like us I suppose

by the random grace of proximity.

Freeze in form and tear away

leaving gases and liquids

for something more tangible.

Seizing one another until the weight combined

is too much for the sky to bear.

Plummet down

individuality forgotten

for a common need to survive.

Finding shared purpose

in the roil of frozen storms.

Clasping one another through the cloud break

how must they feel?

As the ground moves closer

is there panic, fear, resignation

or nothing?

Soon nothing.

Soon as much as there ever was.

From the sky to the sea to the earth

and all again they return.

A brief cohesion and confusion

settling once once more

into the cycle of rebirth.

 

h1

Poet Interview – Kim Cheng Boey – Cerise Press

January 29, 2014

During my morning readings I stumbled upon a great interview of Kim Cheng Boey at Cerise Press. He is a contemporary Singaporean/Australian poet who currently teaches at the University of Newcastle, Australia. As you may guess in an interview with a poet, he discusses his own craft and where he draws his poetry from. It is (perhaps to put words in his mouth) to make sense of the past, to find meaning and to bring it alive again. His story of travelling and searching resonated a lot with me and I think it will, too, with a lot of poets out there. It is also nice to find some new poets now and again to help inspire out own work…the link to Cerise Press is below and it is well worth a look.

http://www.cerisepress.com/01/03/a-sense-of-questing-kim-cheng-boey-on-poetry/view-all

It is also ironic for myself that I am really just discovering about this poet who was my poetry mentor at university. That we share so much in style and experience, and how oblivious I was to it, and self-absorbed with my own work without looking outward…I guess there is a lesson there!

 

 

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Another beginning…

January 27, 2014

It has been a while, people. 6 weeks to be accurate to time. To be vague, I have been back to the country of my formative years, revisited another I had lived in for a time, and now I am starting up in a new one. I spent time with family and old friends and learnt again that people don’t change and not to worry, just get on with things and let them get on with theirs.

So, that is perhaps what I am writing this post about. Taking care of my own business and getting the shop in order. The blog has become a beast of its own and some posts I make are just made for the sake of making them, be they poetry, prose, personal, or psychotic! Often just me talking to myself…like now.

I started this blog for the art of it all, to find a community to be critiqued and criticized and create meaningful dialogues in the hope of moving forward. I have always found it hard to be a part of creative communities…perhaps my own fault! Though I have met a lot of awe inspiring and enviable writers here, I hope to find more. You inspire me to be better. So if you care or not or are reading this for the first time thinking WTF?, then that is my mission objective and change of some sort will come soon. Basically, I’m cutting the fat, keeping the bacon and concentrating on these bloody words.

Paz y abrazos gentes!

h1

Perceptions – Poem

December 13, 2013

What are eyes

but organs adjusted for light?

They see me

in one dimensions.

I see myself

with myriad thoughts and senses.

Together and against each other

we reflect

falling and floating in flux.

I feel like my toes

are inches from a ground

that ever recedes.

The world pushes in and out

all around me.

Invisible pressures press upon me.

Their great inhales and exhales

never touch

but warp none the less

sucking in this vacuum.

Life around me stretches and contracts

I can do naught but go along.

From the outside

how now must I look?

From the inside

how now have I changed?

I land on wobbly feet

vision hazy

ears ringing

all senses and thoughts

tingling

from the lengthen and shorten

until they relax, recede and settle.

Your eyes still see me

never the same as before.

I find myself

from this mere moment

ever different once more.

 

 

 

AJG

h1

Isles Poetry – On Credit

December 12, 2013

The sun swoons over the bay

drunk on its own heat.

Expanding over visitors

who pay the price for idleness

with throbbing tans.

The flame of their imaginations

fanned by thoughts of the future.

Of lives appreciated

from short sold holidays.

Only thoughtless wishes

bought on credit.

*

Back at home we ride office tables

like hurricane flotsam

the only thing keeping us afloat.

In the distance of computer screens

we see oases shimmering

merely reflections from windows.

The lustre of dreams fades

to reality and realisation

that escape is indefinite.

Only thoughtless wishes

bought on credit.

*

AJG

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