Wednesday, 11 January 2017

Poetry Thursday 246 - A little introspection

A week where feelings of introspection and echoes of previous depressions emerged.


Remove all images.
Hide shamefully away.
Life accumulated abuse,
can’t take that away.
The evidence is plain to see
in every photograph of me.
©David L Atkinson January 2017

I really don't like my photograph being taken.

Image result for mute button


When you’re alone and you press the MUTE,
what do you hear?
The ticking of a gold carriage clock,
rattling of the pen,
scratching of the nib on paper,
ink bleeding on lines again.
The wind rattling wires and leaves
as it fusses its way through the trees,
but no human sonic detritus.
The world could be devoid of human life.
Nature is in control dictating waves of sound,
as brush strokes on the medium of travel,
randomly through the ether,
to dissipate and unravel.
©David L Atkinson January 2017

 It was a momentary experiment during which there were no extraneous sounds from traffic etc. People who live in the countryside probably experience the dominance of the sound of nature far more than us city dwellers.


The continuous moan punctuated.
An instruction to silence shh!
Or the threatened destruction.
A crash, crack or break
causes sleepers to awake.
Little chance of further rest that night,
the wind will have its say till night turns into day
and we arise to see the result of its might.
Shh! Yet another gust.
Attention to pay we must,
for it has left us more to do,
little choice for us  but to wait
for his strength to abate.
Then to clear up the detritus till the next time.
©David L Atkinson January 2017

I love the power of natural events. They are like some repeated message that humans are not top of the tree where the earth is concerned.

God Bless