Motivation
Motivation feels great
when having it
Morose when I don’t
How
My
Weary
Old
Bones
‘n’ brain
Drag
When inspiration’s lacking
In this instance
Mindless sketching
Thoughts drift
Draw out syllables
Wrapping tongue
‘round sounds
Moat
Eee
Vay
Shun
Abracadabra
In youth
Timex ticks endlessly
Youngsters play days away
Through learning
Everything’s possible
Hands begin to speed
Teenagers’ yearning
Anything’s achievable
Young people retain potential
Become discerning
Grains slip away
Through maturescence
Candles’ burning
Commitments lead to repetition
Necessary for earning
In prime of life
Responsibilities’ concerning
Hectic pace
Life churning
Into middle age
Seasons’ turning
Tumbling to sage years
Some things no longer options
Questioning
Remembering
Shedding
Fading into
Nothing
Fairies plum and apple bright
Tainted tarts of rhubarb grown
Atop grim reaper berries glow
Oh when will the pale girl sing
Forever splotched from juice stains
We lie hidden from drama and dreams
In the half waking light of dawn’s dusk
Abundant fuzzy peaches fly high
Among lemon scented daisy followers
Purple pringles float aimlessly in the void
Awaiting the jaws of oblivion
Red Enraged Demon
Angry No-Good Rasping, Yelling
Green Rinses, Expelling Emotional Negativity
Earth Acts, Restoring The Harmony
Dwarfed
Meditating, bunnies cerebrally
Trace the tallest peaks, lowest vales
In its gnarled sinuous fissured surface.
An ancient petrified monolith
Hosting microcosms of benign
Coexistence within a mostly
Silent ancient sentinel.
Eons spent photosynthesising poisoned airs
Into breath; croaking, creaking, groaning-
Burdened by arterial routes connecting.
Plagues of embattled humans procreate,
Nesting lengths of engorged dwarfed limbs.
Bunnies ponder, what will happen next?
The journey of the picture began with random blobs of water. The tree evolved from teal watercolour and salt. My husband turned two wooden Easter bunny gifts into stamps.
The picture inspired the poem.
Lukewarm Winter rays breach each
Burgeoning towering cumuli
Dazzle dancing upon crossed wakes
Happiness bubbles within
Bouncing homeward
Upon the Brisbane River
Yearning to hold fast
This fleeting joie de vivre
Undaunted by chilling
Eurus whipping the deck
Of the catamaran
Icy spray hitting my face
Coming about gathering speed
As Brett’s Wharf comes into view
Running late
Rushing out
Walking briskly
Trundling carryon behind
Thinking laptop’s in the office
Wondering when the bus’s due
Exiting The Hamilton
Descending the ramp
Flashing green man
Welcoming the final stage
Approaching crossing
Counting down 16, 15, 14
Speeding around the corner
Disbelieving car cuts my path
Blasting horn another
Turning in front of me
Stopping before kerb
Looking at the driver
Gesturing to number 2
Waving their arms wildly
Giving-up self-righteously indignant
Proceeding onwards
Approaching crowd
Queuing
Reaching the stop
Questioning thoughts of others
Thinking I’m not pushing in
Checking the timetable
Screaming right leg
Protesting as adrenaline settles
Guessing their day’s worse than mine
In the face of grim graveness
Babbling buddha Airhead fawns
Transmuting into
La la la happy fairy witch
A golden creature bathed in blinding light
Aside a
Fuzzy bunny familiar
Invokes a voile veil
Gossamer gauze of firmament
Strewn with
Flimsy fragrant garlands
Poseidon’s poised on a precipice,
Languishing lost in
Moments of melancholic malaise.
Craving numbing night,
filled with deeper darkness,
Self-indulgently succumbs to
Soporific Laudanum-like liquid-
Purgatory-pummelled merriment,
Languidly dowsing spirit.
It reeks of putrid powerlessness
Yet, repulsed by broken bridges to freedom,
An impulse to extricate.
Allows thoughts to settle,
Words tumble forth-
Moving pieces, sorting senses,
By a glimmer of Apollo’s light, Combining motes of inspiration into life.
Training the dos
Constraining the don’ts
Stop that:
fidgeting
moving
snoring
breathing
Move out of the way
Unwritten expectations
raining on my life
draining my heart
braining men
hallelujah, raining men
Maid your bed
Deal with it
Flash trash
Crashed
filthy faggot scum
Too ……….
To get hitched
theINFP 