pink ‘n prettywith your delicate petalsso exactsymmetricalflouncing with the morning dewyou bask in the sun or dappled shadeoh how you tease Madam Japanese princesshow I have worshipped yousung your praisesgiven you wateryet you deny me brown buds ladyit ain’t fair yet a single bloomin all these months is worth the wait
Category Archives: Free Form Poetry
Sharon Apold: The Centurion And The Butterfly
You who are good, strong and whole you hold me as though I am a butterfly delicate, flighty, fleeting You who are solid, and calm and reliable you have your hands just outside my wings protecting, shielding, guarding You who are wise, kind and stable you look at me and watch my attempts at flightContinue reading “Sharon Apold: The Centurion And The Butterfly”
Georgette Gerdes: ‘It’s not easy bein’ green’
– a homage to Kermit the frog ‘Its not easy bein’ green’ Kermit sings with skinny limbs and felty fingers strumming the god given banjo he says it’s boring blending in with things chlorophyll leaves grass vegetables mountains of green the greenback lucky green green with envy green behind the ears green when you’reContinue reading “Georgette Gerdes: ‘It’s not easy bein’ green’”
Georgette Gerdes: Dances with Covid
lockdown appliances are friends I can hear the chatter Auntie ABC in the kitchen PK, Phillip and Norman Swann information updates doomsday whirring, twirling spinning sheets splashing, whooshing dirty plates cars drive by humming in tune LG – nascence of expanding waistlines bathed in fluorescent light yogurt, milk and mouldy left overs the main eventContinue reading “Georgette Gerdes: Dances with Covid”
Edie Eicas: Chelsea Troubadours
Black boys walk the sunny streets sub-culture’s clothes black and white t-shirts and tight jogging pants, sneakers on trend, a motza’s worth, stylish hair: boy braids, cornrows, top knots creativity announces identity. A mob loud, demands space, leaves white walkers paranoid; distance divides as wary white faces look over shoulders, stop. A gang, it’s London’sContinue reading “Edie Eicas: Chelsea Troubadours”
Georgette Gerdes: Island Life
caught she wants to fly far, across the horizon to the island the island of safety hurt no more the logs flatten on fractured wings struggling in dirt pain, hot scorching beak open no sound gagged by distress gasping struggling to survive squashed helpless, ignored, discarded expendable but the Island is beautiful soft breezes turquoiseContinue reading “Georgette Gerdes: Island Life”
Sharon Apold: Again
Not again! the floor drops beneath me I feel it go my body suspended mid-air the head in front of me still talking mouths moving words don’t match the shape they make sounds garbled echoing taunting my feet hang momentarily unaware of their vulnerability life moves around me I am not a part of itContinue reading “Sharon Apold: Again”
Roger Monk: The Garden
Matted elm leaves abandoning all hope. Naked sticks of unashamed winter. Glorious nightshade in purple velvet, tall as six year olds and just as deadly. Bunched violets scuttling over bare ground, covering the sins of summer. New boy on the block: feijoa, name still attached, where once a paperbark, now stacked firewood. A rockContinue reading “Roger Monk: The Garden”
Georgette Gerdes: Spectrum
Why are you crying little girl? Lips buttoned, eyes red, snot dribbles, fingernails pick at scabbed bleeding scalp. What’s wrong sweetie? The void immense, a gulf abyss. The meltdown continues. Tears drizzle from bloodshot pools, pools hiding pain, in a room large and echoing, empty and cold. Meaning isContinue reading “Georgette Gerdes: Spectrum”
Sharon Apold: I Am Awake
Night… we meet again and again and again. In spite of my objection, for hours we will joust. Sleep, the elusive. I will grasp my pillow, wring that comfort dry. Night… you will shine your moon. I will toss, turn, defy your silent gloom. Awake… In that awful hour. The one of deathly quiet whenContinue reading “Sharon Apold: I Am Awake”
Maarten van de Loo: Deaf sentence
Listen how this fellow, getting older thought he would never be in strife. Fit and strong and a little bolder, having posted the decades up to five, he couldn’t hear his wife. ‘What is the matter now with you? listen!’ ‘Yes, I do, if you play too!’ ‘Ayeeeeh! What d’ya saaay?’ that’s the cry theContinue reading “Maarten van de Loo: Deaf sentence”
Burnside Writers Group 