A recent poem.
Originally posted on Ripple Poetry:
I could take a picture of the pink cyclamen
that I bought, because
it was on special at the supermarket
as Mother’s day had passed,
and show it to you;
so carefully placed in front of an open window, looking out
onto backyards, where
the ibis, cockatoo and bush turkeys play.
I could draw a picture and
you’d glance at the pink curtain above it;
rolled up and pegged, with
the white lace curtain showing
just a little.
This still life has more,
when you pan back and see
the cream bench top paint that is peeling away to reveal
a pink layer underneath.
This house we live in is old and was in the same family for generations
until someone began to buy the old houses side by side
one by one to rent them out.
The neighbours tell us the old man who once lived here was kind.
View original 210 more words
“Thou art My glory and My glory fadeth not; thou art My robe and My robe shall never be outworn. Abide then in thy love for Me, that thou mayest find Me in the realm of glory.” -Baha’u’llah, The Hidden Words
I love reflecting on the theme of each Baha’i month and finding a quotation and photograph to weave together.
To view other inspiring contributors head to NINETEEN MONTHS.
Why not leave a comment and let them know what you think of this month’s contributions.
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.
One of the things I love about cities is discovering the art in the underpasses and on the railway stop walls. Some of these art works are commissioned creations; others are layers put over already existing art and blank walls by underground artists.
During the lead up to hosting the G20, the city concerned about how the world might see us, made an effort to add to and raise the quality of the underpass creations; while headlines proclaimed the blandness of much of the existing street art.
I still have to make it to some of that new art created, but for now I am noticing street art whenever I pass by it with my trusty camera phone.
Street Art doesn’t always last for long so I could make this a long term photography project and visit some of these spots again in three years or so and see if they have been painted over with new designs.
I definitely better make it to the Merivale Street Creations – for a follow up post; these ones are probably going to last about eight years and they look stunning in all the online documentary photos I have seen of them.
Perhaps in this journey I may meet some of the people who create these works or even happen upon the creation of one in progress; that’d be brilliant and something I’d love to film, although I think I’d be going for the legal projects for all sorts of reasons.
For more see The Pillars Project.
(c) June Perkins