Posts Tagged ‘poems’

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All The Same

October 6, 2017

C360_2016-03-09-08-13-04-839

“Mist or pollution?” I ask

crossing the murky morning bridge.

My friend shrugs. “Both.”

Cross the bridge or not – we’re a part of it.

Surrounded by it. Inhaling it.

Everyday the same crossing,

misted and obscured.

The students ahead disappear.

Mask up or change your routine.

Why the trepidation?

It’s a part of you all the same.

The motions. The breaths in and out.

This crossing and the rituals before and after.

Cross the bridge – You already have

put feet all over it and joined the mist.

“Too early for all that,” she says

reading my mind. “Cross or not,

you’ve crossed it all the same.”

 

AJG

Some thoughts while crossing the bridge to class in the morning. 

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Move

September 29, 2017

Crosing

Ride the zebra across.

Blur your pasts and futures into the present.

We barely recognise those next to us.

I know you, but not this street or its language of

hashed lines and dashes. I came here sure of reasons,

uncertain of consequences. Like you, perhaps.

Is that something we keep

as our faces distort in each other’s stride?

The crossing here’s risky. No looking. No help anyway:

All the signs and symbols are meaningless.

Don’t look down and if you don’t stumble

don’t smile yet – It’ll come. Just move forward.

Keep going. Don’t stop moving towards something.

Don’t look back or you’ll never escape,

if that was your reason for crossing.

Just look straight if you had a reason

for moving forward at all.

_____________________________

Goldbot – Xiamen 2015.

A poem and photograph from a Photo/Poetry project in Xiamen, China.

Picture courtesy of Asaka a local photographer from Xiamen.

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I Am Charlie

January 8, 2015

Life was there

standing before them

drawing

with weapons they drew

AKs, guns, everything

so much power

and still they couldn’t speak

no matter what noise they made

just dripping red

red red red ink

enough ink that we couldn’t hear it

enough that we know

that

that all we could hear

was the silence they made

and how loud

through all of the silence

they had made us.

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Steve Sanfield Inspired Scratchings

August 21, 2014

In Mexico I found a copy of Steve Sanfield’s A New Way and I really like his poetry. I know he does haiku and it reflects in the writings of this collection. Reflections on his life, that have brevity, clarity and insight. These were just some unedited poems of my own inspired by his from a day last month.

__________

Another window outside and another seat.

Sitting again and watching

always ready to start.

No gun to tell me so.

___________

The whisky had me beaten Tuesday.

Thursday all I’m waiting for’s the weekend.

___________

Tomatoes – 40 yen cheaper.

A hyaku head of cabbage.

Three cucumbers half price and

the cheapest carton of milk.

Savings done I grab a bottle of Maker’s

and leave.

____________

It’s breaking down around me

or I’m destroying it.

I’m talking about the house

but you know I mean everything.

Everything is breaking down

now and eventually.

____________

With no distractions

Facebook or BBC updates

I find myself writing. For now

the fantasy’s still beating reality.

_____________

An old Korean man told me not to worry.

Women are like buses-

another one will eventually come.

I wasn’t worried about that.

I was worried that women

were like bus crashes.

______________

I look at all the Japanese and

how strange they dress.

On the platform

they are all looking at me.

_______________

AJG

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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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An Ending + Lazy Posts

December 3, 2013

This is a lazy post. Or perhaps its a rational one. I think its both. The below poem was a fragment to a poem. The start of a poem that was meant to end, but was left. I like it however. As although it is small and was the start to a poem, it is also an ending. It is both. Going back and trying to change it would alter what I felt before. It would add the me of now to the me of then, and, although we are the same people, we are in different times and places. So in that way, it is rational to leave it as it is. And it is also lazy to leave it as it is.

 

An Ending

A peach sunset falls slowly over the bay.

The beach cools, the tourists shake their towels and stroll,

the shadows on the green hills darken.

I sway in my seat, sip my beer, and mull.

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Isles Poetry – Connexion to Mars + Thoughts

November 28, 2013

 The journey is almost complete. I have 1 more hour left of work. I have let my replacement take the rest of my classes and I will…well I don’t know. Have some drinks? Do some writing? Watch TV? I am all excited, nervous, and unsure about what is next. Even the next couple of days. I still have to do a couple of things, but there is nothing really to do but catch a plane and all the shit that that involves…first world problems…really, no plans, except the rest of my life.  Just another step down and a darkened space below. That was a long way of saying, ‘I don’t know what to write.’ Perhaps when I reach the afterglow, when I leave and reflect back I will have some thoughts. I still have many incomplete poems to finish for my poetry project Isles, which recounts my thoughts and experiences of 6 months of life working on a little island in Thailand.

Here is another poem for the compilation…digest.

Connexion to Mars

The speedboat thumps over a sea like broken glass;

sparkling, jagged and blue.

I recline and rock with the motion

shading my eyes while stealing glimpses

of clouds like thought bubbles in the sky

thinking beyond these

of one way tickets to Mars and the fact

that there is nowhere now we cannot go.

Other passengers grumble discontent at the crowds

disturbing their deserted paradise.

Mystery is the bliss

of the ignorant fantasies we create.

But reality and its routines create familiarity.

From one tropical island to the next

we pass dozens more

filling a line up to the mundane.

Plane tickets to deserted paradises

are packaged with paradox illusions.

Connexion has killed isolation.

Mystery dies as we are one step

closer to Mars.

Goldbot

© ONYECHE VINZ POETRY

© TALKING TO MYSELF THROUGH POETRY

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