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