Toko Bunga Pedurungan
5 years ago
Sunday, 28 September 2008
A Hint of Mairi (First Draft)
I meet the youth of school girl ways
And weep the aging tear.
The city lights and rushing days
In white and amber gear,
the civic walls by Itchen shore
the freight awaiting ship
as smoke from liners’ funnels pour
from mental journals slip
When does this time, denim the guise,
reveal a wizened crone
who saw the docks in grief demise
recession’s cost the drone.
Where is the girl in St Anne’s blue
adorned as ashened tree
I bid farewell to things I knew
No tears it’s time to be
Sunday, 21 September 2008
Artist's Jug
I am her jug , her brushes rest in me
I hear her sing while mixing paint today
And feel the cold water, wet and icy
I wish she would listen and hear me say
Warm hands grip my handle, my sexy curve
Her nudes often have the very same pose
I wish it was fine wine that I could serve
As she paints the scene her mind has now froze
Instead its poison mixed with flailing brush
Sharp, bitter essence like lime tree’s fruit
When will the artist empty the foul mush
And savour a cool sweetness that I suit
Anger burns my glaze as I sit and seethe
Then with her tender care comes her touch
My bath, lavender scented warmth I breathe
The stench lifts and I know her need is such
Soft muslin cloth wipes away the dark stains
By a new creation I stand with pride
She couldn’t do it alone, hence my pains
Just a jug, its me she keeps by her side.
© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.
I hear her sing while mixing paint today
And feel the cold water, wet and icy
I wish she would listen and hear me say
Warm hands grip my handle, my sexy curve
Her nudes often have the very same pose
I wish it was fine wine that I could serve
As she paints the scene her mind has now froze
Instead its poison mixed with flailing brush
Sharp, bitter essence like lime tree’s fruit
When will the artist empty the foul mush
And savour a cool sweetness that I suit
Anger burns my glaze as I sit and seethe
Then with her tender care comes her touch
My bath, lavender scented warmth I breathe
The stench lifts and I know her need is such
Soft muslin cloth wipes away the dark stains
By a new creation I stand with pride
She couldn’t do it alone, hence my pains
Just a jug, its me she keeps by her side.
© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.
Wednesday, 17 September 2008
Pagan Flame
In circle dance from left to right
Around the Pagan flame
From right to left eternal light
In midst of song she came
As distant drummers beat in time
The core of earth’s own pulse
With ebb and flow of tidal rhyme
One world can sing, one voice
The hallowed call from mother earth
We dance her tune of life
The core that beats from day of birth
‘til death’s sweet end of strife
The whisper winds that bring the rain
To quench the thirst of light
As trees of willow weep of pain
As Man has lost the sight
The ways of old return this night
And feel a loves embrace
Lament the past and oath to right
A soul will touch her grace
O Goddess queen of all that’s truth
Thine kin have come to thee
Forgive their sin of mortal proof
Open the eyes to see
In circle dance from left to right
Around the Pagan flame
From right to left eternal light
In midst of song she came
© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.
Around the Pagan flame
From right to left eternal light
In midst of song she came
As distant drummers beat in time
The core of earth’s own pulse
With ebb and flow of tidal rhyme
One world can sing, one voice
The hallowed call from mother earth
We dance her tune of life
The core that beats from day of birth
‘til death’s sweet end of strife
The whisper winds that bring the rain
To quench the thirst of light
As trees of willow weep of pain
As Man has lost the sight
The ways of old return this night
And feel a loves embrace
Lament the past and oath to right
A soul will touch her grace
O Goddess queen of all that’s truth
Thine kin have come to thee
Forgive their sin of mortal proof
Open the eyes to see
In circle dance from left to right
Around the Pagan flame
From right to left eternal light
In midst of song she came
© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.
Sunday, 7 September 2008
Truth
Truth is purity.
Truth feels like a soft downy feather.
Truth smells of citric fruit on a warm day.
Truth looks like a baby.
Truth sounds like a breeze in the trees.
Truth tastes like polo mints.
Truth is the mother of trust.
Truth keeps the heart clean.
Truth sleeps with the angels.
Truth feels like a soft downy feather.
Truth smells of citric fruit on a warm day.
Truth looks like a baby.
Truth sounds like a breeze in the trees.
Truth tastes like polo mints.
Truth is the mother of trust.
Truth keeps the heart clean.
Truth sleeps with the angels.
© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.
Peaceful Poverty
Walking the streets of this city at night
Cast your eyes to the reality, the plight.
In dark corners, sleeping under boxes,
Lies and old man living wild like foxes.
Trapped in the terrifying honesty
Just left in the world with no amnesty.
His working life as someone's property
Now we look on at peaceful poverty.
Cast your eyes to the reality, the plight.
In dark corners, sleeping under boxes,
Lies and old man living wild like foxes.
Trapped in the terrifying honesty
Just left in the world with no amnesty.
His working life as someone's property
Now we look on at peaceful poverty.
© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.
Friday, 5 September 2008
Dreams of Summer Love
From airport to hotel and beach,
Come thoughts of holiday romance.
Eyes meet and drink as fingers teach,
Amidst the dreams of summer love.
The passion intense, the feelings real,
Two hearts in union, sipping wine.
Sun tanning days, lust moments steal,
Amidst the dreams of summer love.
Two weeks go fast, back on the plane,
Undying love declared goodbye.
Promises of letters in vain,
Amidst the dreams of summer love.
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