A recent tree and shadow captured my attention. I see its shadows regularly but this one was particularly striking.
Recognition
poetry of the fallen
patterns of remembrance
Released
By June Perkins
Poetry is My Every Way
A recent tree and shadow captured my attention. I see its shadows regularly but this one was particularly striking.
Recognition
poetry of the fallen
patterns of remembrance
Released
By June Perkins
I love looking back through the vaults of online poetry on my blogs. Sometimes I rewrite the pieces. Other times I connect with the ideas to write something completely new.
Draft 1#
To take the point of view of a curtain fig tree
or a wallaby
I become part of the ecosystem
and see myself a part of it
not the ruler of it.
To take the point of view of a refugee
coming by air, or boat
from a camp or via an escape however they can
I see common humanity
and that fate could place me
there but somehow I was
given a home here through my
migrant mother marrying one
with citizenship.
To take the point of view of the
woman with her hijab hassled
in the streets because she represents
what some people fear makes
me wonder what I would feel and do.
To take the point of view of someone
who truly believes they are better
than me because of their colour
because someone told them so
and they were surrounded by others
who believed…
View original post 207 more words
Find out how I created this first draft
People still
fear
the Trojan horseSomehow this horse
is a boat
or a truck
full of people cryingIt can’t be real
it is just a tool
to make us open
bordersWe won’t be fooled
We must protect our
citizensOh for a portal to freedom
a falling Berlin wall
and all the Humpty Dumptys
falling down,
down,
downtoppling
from the wall
they installedOh for a portal
to compassion
hidden somewhere
in that wall
that is going
up, up, up, upWhen will you believe
what you see
is not just a trick
and when will we all
sing a welcome song?(c) June Perkins
This week I have been playing with metaphors. Metaphors give us a memorable comparison to understand something which seems inexpressible at a deep level.
Some metaphors have been so used that there have become clichés; so as I write I have to approach them with care and ingenuity. I have to strive for originality. But also intertextuality and allusion are going to be helpful.
I have been working with the ideas of gates, doors and walls, of barriers, and openings, of welcomes and denials.
My journey with gates, doors and walls is triggered by all the news about refugees around the world not being allowed to cross borders, and being put inside prisons, and separated from their children.
Historically walls are set up to protect from invasion of enemies. They surround cities, castles and more. But all walls have a gate for those who can be…
View original post 437 more words
Stories Break
A loving couple separated
and no compassion forthcoming.
What will happen to their future
as his flowers never reach her
is detention all there is?
Indigenous children tortured
gassed and tied
not given hope or rehabilitation
and the past seems full of lies.
So much invisible
until the stories break
And the stories break
my heart
the stories break
my day
the stories make me
want to say:
Time to be a lamplighter
lamplighter of justice
lamplighter of love
lamplighter of unity.
(c) June Perkins

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
