Spent a day in our windy capital city of Wellington where Parliament fumes and spits making enemies and alliances with nothing to do with the laws that are passed. The houses sit high and tumble down the bowl of the harbour saved from drowning only by the city centre and it blows and blows down the narrow streets.
Capital city
Scarecrow suits slapping legs
In funneled windshafts
While furtive smokers
In woolen chokers
Draw tainted relief
Bright young things
Not yet mortgaged
Fashion bound from fashion mags
In black black black
And clickety clack
Suspended buses in nappy yellow
Heads and faces going places
At last a greeting
From some rough coot
Hat and hair
Who recognises the rough coot in me
News and views on art, music, food and life 'Down Under' (or 'On Top' depending on your perspective)
7 comments:
awesome...
i read it several times... rejoicing in the novel images created through dissociating the words from their usual meaning and usage -- the same way people in such a city are beheaded:
'Heads and faces going places'
and the alliterations producing the expressive sounds of our mind in such a situation....
the brevity is so impressive, too... for example, just these two short lines tell us a lot:
'Bright young things
Not yet mortgaged'
and the ending... so hopeful...
when someone sees our soul which can be somethng totally different from our appearance -- a scarecrow....
i like this archetypal character of a scarecrow...
Thanks so much Human Being for your enjoyment. I find poetry a good discipline to pare away superfluous prose and to find words from the heart not necessarily from the brain.
i'm in the habit of discovering the secrets of heart intuitive creations by my limited conscious brain...
i do this with my own works which come out as if in a dream...
sorry: heart's intuitive creations
....and you wonder a day later, where did THAT come from
I love your poem and look forward to more.
Thanks LM it's a bit new to me but I enjoy it
Post a Comment