Coot-tha from the Green Bridge

Coot-tha’s sensual curves,
Are bathed in the golden evening glow, 
While the shadows of the riverbanks trees, 
 Dance on the silent, sluggish river.

Discussing the day in the Eucalypts,
The lorikeets spoil the peace.

Not solely a physical bridge, this,

Connecting a city, 
But a metaphorical bridge rather,

showing the way.

Coot-tha’s sensual curves suffused in the last of the days light,
While hundreds of stars glow in the inky night.

A strange sliver of a moon peeks under an eclipse,
While lights dance on the river in nightly bliss.

The lights of the bridge lead not only the way,
But are also examples of a bright and better day.

I wrote this poem in 2010 one night after crossing the Greenbridge in Brisbane, Australia, from my university to the residential area on the other side.

Nearby Mt Coot-tha (pronounced Coo-tha) was lit up be the setting sun and looking magical.

What makes the bridge special is that all its lights and features are powered by solar panels on the footpath roof, and it is a bus and bike only bridge; hence the name.

What do you think, and which do you prefer? How could I tighten the poem?

The story of stuff (Christmas reflections)

Do they ever wonder,

Those poor Chinese,

Where their goods go,

And who they please?

While we turn a blind eye,
And  buy all that's cheap.
 But how can we justify it,
And our humanity still keep?

But how can you change,
 A system built on greed,
With desperate workers,
who have families to feed?

You can buy locally made,
Or Fairtrade goods.
But this won't change the system,
We're not out of the woods.

All that's left,
Is to use your Voice,
And help others to see,
That we have a choice.

This isn't the only way,
That it can be,
We can have a world,
Where all are free.

I had thought of them years earlier, but originally wrote just the opening stanza as my Christmas poem for 2011, while I was thinking about where the gifts we received had come from.

I'm re-posting it now for the http://dVersePoets.com poetics prompt 'buttons', as one of the stereotypical products that come from sweatshops across Asia is obviously clothes.

For the dVerse Poets who read this post I encourage those of you, who haven't already, to slick on the 'Social Justice' tag and read some of my other poems on similar subjects

I would be interested to know what you think!

25/12/2011

This question came to me while thinking about sweatshops a few years back; it seemed apt to think about it again just after Christmas.

If you want to know more or how you can help the fight against abusive sweatshops (those which pay virtually nothing to workers in dangerous conditions) check out the UK organisation No Sweat's website: http://www.nosweat.org.uk/  

Post-Christmas micro poem:

Back after Christmas/My pen working again//Only question is/Did hols muddle my brain?// (Hope u all had a good break!)

I couldn't decide to go or not one way

Two paths diverged in a forest one day,

But I couldn’t decide to go or not one way.

I stood at the fork and my mind did sway,

Till the sun did the inevitable and had its say.

So I curled up and down my head I did lay,

Until the morning woke me up with the suns first ray.

I’d hoped for inspiration, a dream of the way,

But nothing was been forthcoming and I was left with the day.

To decide, to decide, but my mind did stray,

So at that fork I did stay, I did stay.

I didn’t take any path or less traveled way.

And that I regret every night and every day.

For to make a decision to go one way,

At least the decision is made, let come what may.

I am not the worlds greatest decision maker (maybe because I am a Gemini if you believe in star signs). I can make big decisions when they have to be made but it is the little ones that stump me; lamb korma or buttered chicken, chocolate mousse or a hot fudge brownie etc.

This poem was obviously inspired by Robert Frost's great 1920s poem 'The Road Not Taken', and was my attempt to deal with this flaw in my character and get through to myself that in reality not making a decision is worse than just making on and enjoying the ride.

What do you think?

And do you have any feedback on the poem? Should the fourth line rather say "Till the sun began to set and had it’s say"? 

Could the eleventh line rather be "I didn’t take any path, I kept the decision at bay,"?

(This poem was posted for the dVerse Poets Pub poetic prompt 'Choice'; Thanks guys! )

 Another form of choice, this needs to be updated but valid.

Why work?

They say that work defines you,

But is that ok by you?

It wasn't ok by me,

Until I thought, maybe it should be.

Buddhists see work as an outlet,

For creativity, innovation, effort.

A rewarding experience that makes life,

Whole, allows you to keep a family and wife.

They say 'If you do a job you love,

You'll never work another day'.

But could this true I wondered?

As all around me advertising thundered.

'You need to work to be able to consume!'

The latest car, house or experience,

An iPod, iPhone, iPad, it all,

But what if, I, don't want to?

What if I want to work not for money,

But for the love of using my skills.

I don't work to kill, myself or others,

I work to bring life, end strife, help mothers.

Everyday I'm blessed to wake,

Because I'm inspired to go to work.

I'm inspired to inspire, and light a fire,

And never work another day, until I retire.

I wrote this poem for the dVerse Poets pub poetics challenge or writing a poem around the theme of work (as you may have guessed!)

I made a decision a number of years ago to never work for money, but rather to always work for something I love and believe in. This has led to work for a number of not-for-profits, environmental/sustainability organisations and now the child focused humanitarian organisation World Vision.

I love it.

I often arrive at work and suddenly think about how lucky I am to be paid to do what I love, and to help others at the same time, whether (hopefully) inspiring youth in New Zealand to be all that they can be, or raising money for our community development work in the Third World.

This poem is written as a spoken word piece so read it out loud and please let me know what you think!

Journey into a forbidden relationship - Part 4

The longest 20 minutes of my life,

As I'm torn to shreds with internal strife.

I thought she was gone and she's suddenly back,

Not only that but it's all an attack.

Now that i can handle if it's justified,

But she's no idea and I'm still crucified!

She accuses me of gross immaturity,

And to top it all off thinks she knows me,

When she's got no idea what I feel,

Because I tried to support her and let her heal.

This was the final poem I wrote about this relationship which was developing with a friend who was already with someone. 

She had misunderstood something I said through a text, where it is so easy to do so, and written a pretty stern and disappointed message. I knew she was driving home and had to wait 20 minutes before I could call her to clear it up.

We sorted out that issue then a few days later it  was better we didn't see each other or keep in touch to much as it was just making things difficult and complicated.

The photo is a bit extreme but almost represents how I was feeling at that point. It is from the 1960s Spartacus movie.

Any thoughts?

 

Journey into a forbidden relationship - Part 3

One  reason I like you is I write again.
Every time I pick up a pen,
In my mind words do flow,
As our love continue to grow.

Now please excuse the flowery word,
Even to me it sounds absurd.
But love can mean many things,
Not only the moment when cupid stings.

And I cannot deny what I feel,
These feelings simply must be real.
For they really will not go away,
No matter what we do or say.

I got inspired to write this third poem on 7 May. I was trying to think through why I liked the friend I had growing feelings for. As mentioned before she already had a boy friend and as such the relationship couldn't go anywhere.

So far I've have written one more poem about the relationship as time went on and I'll upload it next week.

 

Continue to join me through the poetic journey through the emotions of love.  

 

What do you think so far, can you relate? Have you been in the same position?

What does it mean to be a child?

 School children enjoying their uniforms in Tanzania,

Photo © World Vision New Zealand 2012

Every child living life in all its fullness,
But what does that even mean?
A child in all their usefulness,
Living in a world that's healthy and green?

Or maybe it refers to their belly,
And the fact some look so lean,

But we can't blame the parents really,

When the rain just hasn't been.

Because just as importantly,

This is one we can achieve.

We can see a world that's hungerfree,

If we only work and believe.

Perhaps it's also about education,

To help them rise above?

Could this be the key to their emancipation,

And help them to fly like a dove?

What about those held in servitude,

How can we help their cause?

We can draw attention to their multitude,

And work to end all wars.

But really the key to the phrase,

Is a child must be a child,

Able to grow through that phase,

Running and playing and wild.

I finished this piece for the dVerse Poets pub weekly poetics challenge where you are given a key word, phrase or idea and encouraged to write a piece.

The challenge this week was to celebrate Maurice Sendaks life - the author of children's book 'Where the Wild Things Are' - and because I work for World Vision, an international humanitarian organisation that focuses on children, I decided to look at our mission statement and see what it means for the life of a child.

It goes: "Our will for every child: life in all its fullness. Our prayer for every heart: the will to make it so."

I know this only loosely relates to the topic but as Maurice Sendak was someone who obviously cared a lot about children I think he'll understand ;-)

Any comments really appreciated!

Journey into a forbidden relationship - Part 2

Warmth and passion, or destruction?

I see her everywhere I go,

She is in everything I do,

She is my motivation, she is my frustration.

Her beauty stops my breath,

And her wit brightens my day,

She is my awe, she is my internal war.

I live for our conversations,

And follow wise advice.

She is my guide, she wavers with the tide.

I respect her for her values,

From that which I can glean.

She is my match, she is fire's thatch.

I enjoy all time spent with her,

In many a varied way,

She drives me round the bend, she is my friend.

I wrote this piece shortly after Part 1, while continuing to deal with a relationship that was developing with a friend, but which could never work because she already had a boy friend she loved.

Again, I have written other poems as the relationship developed and will continue to upload them in chronological order. 

Continue to join me through the poetic journey through the emotions of love. 

Journey into a forbidden relationship - Part 1

I walk through this field of fallen dreams,

And consider the wisdom contained in reams,

Of experience, all from my life,

Earned through pain and through strife.

I've a fair idea where this path will go,

But I don't stop and nor do I slow,

In one way I like the pain,

For suddenly I'm writing again.

I remind myself who I could win,

But how could that happen without bowing to sin?

And now the time is not right,

My side of the scale is too light.

So I must my emotions control,

If I'm not to pay Cupid's toll.

I wrote this piece in the park pictured above on 03/05/12 while I was trying to deal with a relationship that was developing with a friend, but which could never work because she already had a boy friend she loved.

In regards to the photo the intriguing 'ruins' are in Western Park, Ponsonby, Auckland, NZ, and are artwork by John Radford called 'The Tip. The photo is from Auckland Daily Photo blog.

I have written other poems as the relationship developed and will upload them in chronological order. A poetic journey through the emotions of love.  

I have uploaded this poem for the dVerse Poets digital pub open link night because it is a piece that is current to me at the moment, the experience got me writing again and I think the series could make interesting reading.