JMD Poetry

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A selection of my poems are displayed here.
Use the poem list to jump direct to a poem.

The Quickening

The eagles partner once again
By stretched seconds days lengthen

As buds draw colour from the light
Birds flock and gather in delight

Galahs as one, in schools display
Precision closing of the day

Currawong sings before sun
Golden syrup vibes began

They pipe again, to Ra's descent
As painters quickening hearts lament

The perfect, dusking, failing light
That wains too fast for brushes flight

All this portents that in the wind
From coiled earth will rise the spring


Run to the Coast

As sun etches out a charcoal dawn
Lending calm and muted light to mountain pass
and roadside praying wallabies stand firm
Counting cars and dreaming of the past

Down two gears and into corner roll
The gearbox screams, but I'm past there to hear
For the Darragh is a friend of old
And soaks away the now with weight of years

Trunk road 91, as sure as fate
Confuses both gradient and mind
Cave's ladder of light does oscillate
It twice takes us up, while riding down, you'll find

This down hills a primer, for return
T'will be like note within the stave
Boundaries met not bent into concern
Rather sweet music with lingered taste to save

The helmet purpose is to protect
A use I have no rush to have fulfilled
Instead I use it to reflect
And contain my joy in riding on this hill

Scrubby creek corner, now relax
Slowly rising up the gears and speed
But beware the ever-present kanga tax
For these flats are Eden for this breed

Myrtle mountain with lying Lyre birds
Contains elf like trails that omit return
Lyres always wait to be observed
Then disappear and leave, in place, concern

Last time this run was exposed granite
To base of the mountain top, at least
Now surfaced, it's no better than a sandpit
Loose metal, that rides as good as grease

But no mind, this is but life's fountain
And drinking causes simple pause for growth
For I've ner' been up or down this mountain
And had clear run from top to shining coast

The winds been withdrawn from my sail
And coasting I glide and just let be
Ahead the boiling heat has flailed
Leaves from stems, laid them like confetti

Which would not so move the poet
If that was all there was to see
But the scene was into motion flowet
A cars wake had mobilised dead trees

I rode down the now reclining Myrtle
Happy and much reduced in year
For my eyes still had the leafy echoes
That I chased with joyous, wondering tear


Observations from
Long Time No Sea

The ribs of God, I sometimes see in the cirrus way up high
Strip of white on blue and lilac that colour up the sky

From here I see ribs again, as they roll across the sea
Slow ripple, like a cow's flank that's been touched by bug or bee

Two nights ago I dined here and on enter heard sleepy roar
Of these ribs stretching on the sand, and in certainty I saw

A drifting light, a ship? between two trees, out from Burragga Bay
Today reveals two Monaro sea hills that are Montague, they say

So it was her lighthouse light that caught my eye and loured me away
To an unbelieved counterpane where islands move and play.

That night a blustery wind sprung up, to cool and rattle trees
Enter elemental family that lives and is the breeze

The father shook the canopy as mum ran her fingers through the sedge
Adolescents cased the rooves looking for an unnailed edge

While his family did their work the babe was left alone
And using his small yet deft skill would make fun all of his own

Just a single leaf he'd move, or a little piece of bark
Amongst the chair legs on the porch. I'd smile and I'd laugh

He'd roll a grass ball up and down with no direction seemed
But with joy in purpose, I could feel this little baby gleam

And when I once again enter this Cuttageeian-pane
I sure, if I am very quiet, I'll hear this wind-child's name.

22nd day of 2017