other people's thoughts...

 

Since starting this page people have been sending me poetry

here are some of the ones that I have particularly liked

i hope you like them too.

 

 

Poverty

Gloomy streets play host to a small boy

Forlorn eyes subject to a life of poverty

Matted hair plastered against a wet head

The colour now indistinguishable

He cowers at the rising sun

Shrinks from the light

Preferring the unobserved freedom found in darkness

A racking cough breaks forth

The tranquility of early morning shattered

Like a swarm of bees a hum unearths itself from the city

As he escapes the encroaching light the sounds grow louder

Inside concrete piping he shivers with cold

His head droops and opaque eyes close

He is lost once again within empty dreams

 

By Cedah Lee Cooper

 

 

Freedom

She stood on the edge

Looking out over the ocean

Unseeing the beauty, that abounded there.

The only thing seen through her sad eyes

Perfectly mirrored her mood.

The rising sun, normally bright and cheerful,

Was being covered by stormclouds,

The horizon seemed to draw nearer and nearer.

She felt inclosed,

Trapped in an unfriendly world.

She was frightened,

Frightened of the pounding waves

Frightened of the very cliffs that she was standing on.

But she was drawn,

Drawn to this place.

What it was she didn't know

But although scared, she felt safe

Safer here than back there

There she felt intruded upon

All who had loved her,

Now hated and despised her

Looking back at the gathering darkness

She felt suddenly free

She knew the resaon she was here

Knew what had drawn her to this place

She could sense her freedom

She had to escape

To leave behind this hated place

Her hated world

Lifting her tired aching body

She launched herself into the air

She had found her freedom...

 

By Cedah Lee Cooper

 

 

This is the fence line

This is our fence line, our

Terracotta woodcutter-chop-edge fence line.

It is the sound of soil and the songs of sleeping...

The midnight air...

your midnight airs.

('Coffee in your sugar?' she said)

 

These are the songs of sleeping,

the ebb and flow of weeping trees

Stereo on repeat

(Repeat

Repeat)

 

The fading summer twilights;

The final, falling autumn leaves

 

This is the midnight air that ghosts under doorjams

(Under the doorjam)

...Cracks within the wooden floors, the peeling paint, the sunswept

lawns.

This is my fenceline,

which shadows along the concrete floors that

Shy from windows and become my walls

These are my shadows.

These are my fence-line flaws.

 

By Miss Jordana Amalia

 

 

Voluntary Confinement

 

Antarctic winds are born onto

Fledging outposts; beacons

Transmitting blips and blobs

To wherever it is they go.

We like to know what happens in the snow.

 

Bearded men furrow

Their weathered brows,

Dreaming of

Discovering something

Worthwhile out of

All this white.

Stories to tell,

Names on plaques

And pictures

In journals.

Hasn't this all been

Seen before?

 

Families left behind

Are remembered

And forgotten.

It hurt to think.

Ice and alcohol numb

the body and mind.

 

You can leave me

Whenever you please,

Hurry on back to

Your foreign homes; your other lives.

I know I've taken your wits from you,

And I know I'm not letting them go.

 

By Brenton Bell

 

 

I want to read more!

please take me home...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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