Sometimes

My dear friend, Paul, who is now dead, had a daughter with many problems in her life. I know he loved her and tried so hard to ensure she stayed well ... and alive.

This was a tribute to his love for her and the troubles she faced.

Sometimes

Sometimes an asteroid collides

with the earth

Sometimes a snowflake lands

on the tip of a child's nose

Sometimes a pelican glides

across a pool of still water

Sometimes a fire burns

through the densest forest

Sometimes the wind cools

the sweat on our backs

Sometimes a life is lost and

sometimes so is reason

Birds and fire

snow and wind

have a reason for being

and so does 

a sign that shouts 'STOP'

on every street corner.

A sign may also whisper

how far to go ...

Every other day

between the walls of night

a light will shine

down the alley of darkness,

across the waves beyond the rocks,

to the captains on deck.

And we who witness

know the grief of drowning

in the foam of forgiveness.

Sometimes

our purpose is to watch only

and wait.

Sometimes

their purpose is to hurry up the cliffs

of success.

Sometimes

we earn our share of bread

at the table of reason

when we are a halo

on the shoulders of the captain.

In silhouette

the light that shines

reveals the true shape of all the crew

looking out across the sea.

Phillip Reed

28 July 2013

For Chantelle

Love you like a poem

We all reveal bits and pieces of ourselves in how we dress, speak and through our associations and body language. Sometimes we could benefit from an interpreter to ensure we get it right, not wrong.

So parsing a person is a thing, right? Maybe. This poem honours my one true love and how much depth she continues to reveal.

Love you like a poem

In the hip pocket of my memory

is an image of you

cat-stretched and golden

in the warm morning light.

Like a poem I read you

over and over

from opening line

to parting verse.

And on my lips

the taste of each word

lingers.

I love you like a poem.

I return to you

and your rhythm;

my feelings and my thoughts

rhyme with yours.

I love you slowly,

one syllable at a time

one image after another,

world upon world,

kiss upon kiss.

Dawn slips under the blind

caressing

your supine form

while I dance in the limelight 

of your sea-green gaze.

Phillip

Sydney

20 November 2012

In a Suitcase

This is a poem celebrating the true story of how my wife came to Australia.

In a Suitcase

Life lived in a suitcase

is a life of mishandled baggage – 

a carousel of sorts,

a never ending journey.

But to travel on the high seas

is a mobile destination

never arriving: Already there.

A room with a view.

In Copenhagen they adore

a little matchless girl

without peer.

A waif

stepped off a wharf

and wrapped

like a bread roll in tissue

set sail for a rendezvous

in Port Phillip:

A netherland – neither land nor ocean.

Her beauty captured hearts

and romanced the one true love …

Of dreams and stuff.

From ship to shore

she stepped –

a babe in arms –

captivating like a rhymer by a fireside.

Trunks

Packing crates

Portmanteaux

A crate for a crib.

From ship to shore

unclogged

by clutter thrown overboard.

She put her best foot forward

took his face in both hands

and blew a kiss across the candles

of time (for all the birthdays missed)

until

assured

she settled into an embrace

of certainty

and shed

the skin of freight;

the woman

who came

in a crate.

Phillip Reed

April 2017

Bivalve Dreaming

Well here we go with another verse misadventure.

BIVALVE DREAMING *

I am a mollusc

Alive, alive oh

You press your pink
Shell-like to my lips
And I murmur
The ocean’s secret address.

Tears roll like endless surf
Sobbing
Echoing
- Thunder in our empty pockets

I am a bivalve
You are a butterfly
We dance along
the moon’s landing strip
Shimmering in the salty shallows.

Alive, alive oh.

* I am not the walrus!

Into the Future

Nothing is guaranteed. Nothing is for certain. All will surely pass. And yet faith in love makes us take another step towards our ageing selves.

Here is another poem I managed to lever out of my word trunk.

It's to celebrate what I hold most dear.

There was an empty bowl
A bell’s distant echo
A sky after the birds flew by

There was a whisper in the night
Pebbles without a stream
To caress them into song

There was a bough fallen on the verge
A litter of autumn’s cast offs
A taste of sunlight beyond the clouds

And then you called in the silence

And then there was singing
A flame licking coals
Light to see by

And then there was verdant joy
Spreading like whiskey
And cheeks aglow with knowing

And there will be
Sunsets and sea and salt
And trinkets on the sand

Delivered into a shared set of footprints
Ever on

Phillip Dec 2008

Japan - what an experience

Two weeks in Japan was just the tip of the iceberg. A marvellous country with friendly, polite people, mind blowing architecture (both old and new), glorious gardens and fabulous public transport. What can I say?

The autumn colour was brilliant and luminous and unforgettable. The world heritage island of Miyajima was the highlight of our fifteen days. Although Nagasaki came very close as a moving, spirited and cosmopolitan city. Just the right size for us and the nostalgia of riding quaint, pint-sized trams only heightened our enjoyment.

You can see more of our Japan photos at http://www.flickr.com/photos/phillipr/.

theNOWhen

The writings of Eckhart Tolle and his DVDs have made a big impression on me.

Our little fortnightly discussion group is thriving on 'A New Earth' and making it meaningful in real life. I have enjoyed his Findhorn Retreat (book and video) and it has resulted in the poem below. It is an attempt to tackle the problem of really living in the present moment.

Let me know what you think.

In this moment:
NOW
The centre is
a circle
You are the centre of
NOW
Around you
arising is
Presence
without form
Love
without form
Intelligence
without form

They enter through the
open window of
NOW

Open to the beauty
of form as it passes
from past to present
to .. who knows where

As it migrates
like a silhouette
of bird wing shadows
against a sunset

As it evolves
like a ripening flower
from folded petal to bloom

And you, in your sky perch
watch
observe
Aware of the lengthening
of days
of the lovingness of the other
of the transparency of time
of the formlessness of spirit
of the space between
THEN and WHEN

Aah!