poem – Page 14 – June Paisa Perkins

Dundee Park

I’ve been sharing a lot of poetry in preparation for the Magic Fish Dreaming kickstarter launch. The poems shared are from older collections, that were mostly blogged or shared in very limited print runs with friends. A long time has passed but its fun sharing the works. Dundee Park really exists, skull cave and all.

Ripple Poetry

Skull cave, Dundee Park – June Perkins

Skull cave
Home for bats
For superhero dreams
The white horse wanders.

Crocodiles
Swim away
Escape in floods
Nothing can contain them.

Where crocodiles once roamed by lotus
Pontoons are planned
And safe places are cleared for people to camp.

Lina shows us the steel nest
Keeps it to show scientists
Wonders if it was made by a rat.

Is it possible
That animals take the man made
And incorporate it into their defences?

A barramundi farm
Is suggested by the landscape
And the flooding that comes when it chooses.

The owners plan step by step
New beginnings.

Dundee Park – June Perkins

(c) June Perkins

Another poem from the ‘Love Gumboots’ collection.

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Scribble Leaves

Going through ‘Love Gumboots’

Ripple Poetry

Scribble Leaves – June Perkins

What does the writing on the leaves mean?
Who put it there? Insect, human or Great Spirit?

Hugging Heritage – June Perkins

Wrap your arms
around green life.
Wrap your arms
around the source of your breath.
Wrap yourself
into the story of the carving.

Found this one in one of my old poetry blogs, no longer on line, ‘Love Gumboots’

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Maypole

More from ‘Shadow Puppets’ only a few more poems to go in this series.

Ripple Poetry

From the Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers facebook page

These steps we take can bring some dreams to us
with shuffle-shuffle-shuffle and
a toe-heel-toe.

These steps we take can last eternally
as we dance in top-hats and long tails,
long dresses and high-heel shoes.

The music is to glide for
the chandeliers to die for
but death is watching in his
noiseless tapping shoes.

Tip-toe, tip-toe, tip-toe.

We mourn the moments of a young lass
who danced forever in scarlet ballet shoes
sold by the peddler of ‘careful-what-you-wish-for-dreams.’

We mourn the moments of her lost dreams
trapped in enchanted shoes that won’t let go
it’s like the muse that stings, and makes us
insomniacs night after night.

Fred and Ginger dance onto our tv screens
We’re hearing their repartee twirling
in the early morning gleam.

Our souls seek a rhythm they can keep
Our hearts go clippity-clip-clip-clip.
Can patterned steps…

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Alphabet Father and Son

Alphabet father and son
pram wheels in late afternoon breeze
symbols of something
the poet thinks
‘perhaps they’re keys
– transfigured new age men.’

Robed in garments: peace and love
beaming virtues of transforming light
into actions of might
– guiding generations on their way.

(c) June Perkins

This poem may develop further or into series. There is so much discussion of domestic violence at the moment and what may stop it. I think of heroes like Rosie Batty who are bringing it into the spotlight of the media with their tireless work.

Sometimes I see signs of change – little seeds where there is no violence, only love. There’s a place for fathers, husbands, brothers, mothers, sisters, and children, to move beyond old habits and embrace a world that will be free from violence.

Sometimes it begins with the simplest transfigurations.

This poem first appeared on my Ripple Poetry Site. I am still experimenting with its final composition.

Visit my Ripple Poetry posting of it and let me know which version you prefer? Alphabet Father and Son: Ripple Poetry Site.

The Seeds of Dance – poetry in film projects

I have quite a few small experimental films, which were originally to practice editing. Some of them are now useful in providing the basis for poetry films and feel worthy of a polish and share.

At the moment I am working on doing my poetry as short films. Many of these will be from the upcoming Magic Fish book

This particular one, however is nothing to do with that book, but is an early one, inspired by the dance work of Danielle Wilson. I was filming her projects and ended up writing and creating a film poem.

A voice over has recently been added to complete the film.

(c) June Perkins