ripple project – Page 4 – June Paisa Perkins

Sunlight Tapping

Ripple Poetry

Sunlight Tapping 1- June Perkins

For Fred Astaire and Paul Junior

A shadow of thought
a reflection of myth
dancing on the lawn
hand in hand.

A waltz of creation
a romance of words
sunlight’s a tapping
for a hero of dance.

A top hat and cane
a reflection of steps
a heel toe, a heel toe
a rhythm of hope.

Sunlight Tapping 2

A boy and a medal
a cowboy whose black
a boy and a hero
a heel toe, a heel toe.

A memory of movement
a wheelchair that’s left
sunlight’s a tapping
for a hero of dance.

(c) June Perkins, From Shadow Puppets, p. 15

Sunlight Tapping 3 – June Perkins

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Blue Curtains

She cannot sing it
but only play it

note by note
key by key

in empty theatres
where you can listen

to Him who is
the cause of its hunger

for that sorrow
which makes the artist
whole.

She will play to me
skipping a beat

and finding a beat

the melodies that
remind you of it

sulking in the smoky air

dripping down the blue curtains
to the dark past

where His heart is torn
by starvation,

for it,
for you and I and her.

She will make the music

a spell of pure notes

magic which you can hear
filling pages
from emptiness

causing my heart,
torn by His life,
to see.

(c) June Perkins

from p. 14 Shadow Puppets

Animated Dream Walker

Sharing an old chapbook of mine over on my ripple poetry blog.

Ripple Poetry

Walking through
images of the mind

treading the pathways
of a dream

spinning in the world

created
by a moving thought

resulting from
a burning of fingers of the heart,

continues the wanderer.

Once journeying begins
it can never end . . .

intoxication has set in.

From Shadow Puppets, p.8 This poem was written in my youth.

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Once Paper Boats

Sharing poetry from a chapbook written many years ago.

Ripple Poetry

Byron Bay – from the Cliffs – June Perkins

Paper boats conjure dreams
of petals soaked by
scents of the
ocean.

Traveling boats
float in shadows
people

who have simple hope for happy lands,

but white markers sink
in sandy earth
marking graves of people
who cannot resist new germs.

‘Once watched paper boats,’*
ông nội, grandfather paternal says
but nobody understands
Vietnamese words, no translators here.

So shadow puppets dance
for petals
falling from kumquat boughs.

Extract from Shadow Puppets, p. 4

*Would like to have this line in Vietnamese
chiếc thuyền giấy theo dõi is the google translation
but will have to do some more research as these translations
are sometimes clunky and want to make sure it is poetic.

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Rope Walker

Blogging one of my chapbooks from many years ago. Here is the first piece from Shadow Puppets.

Ripple Poetry

Cliffs, Byron Bay – June Perkins

Found some old poetry chap books I made for friends when I was in my twenties and thirties, so will be sharing some of the work from them but updating it just a little if necessary.

Valley of rocks
reveal a playground
for the wedge-tailed pretender.

Legend tempts her
to find the air
with fruit bat wings.

Her mercurial feet
gain courageous
insanity.

She mocks the air
brushes the rope
now super grips it.

Soft touch again

She dances
a tribute to the cherubs
throws away her training net
glides to the other side

to leave those chariots chanting
we’ll carry you home another day.

(c) June Perkins

Extract from Shadow Puppets p.1

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