Friday, February 19, 2010
Long Discarded
This image is from a short story I wrote and illustrated (with photos) a while ago. I'm hoping to make it into a few books and sell them at some point.
Fog, Extending
Fog, Extending
I. Victoria Park, WA4
Empty pavement
finds you walking on it.
The shape of an unlit
streetlight guides you,
brown railings separate
you from the weir.
Turning, two lone
green benches greet you,
above, the trees stark
against Hokusai sky.
Unseen waters
tumble, and
G
I
N
G
E
!
cries a railing.
Dog walkers enter and
fade into the trees,
characters in an
absurdist play.
Sign, yellow spells:
DANGER!
Risk of Falling
Risk of Drowning.
You feel at home
in nothing places.
II. Birmingham New St
I held on to you like the empty bottles
and wrappers you wish to discard
on a long train journey
with many changes.
III. Montserrat, Spain
Things emerge.
Autumnal branches.
Montserrat’s high arches,
Its Daliesque peaks.
The bells shatter the
bone-creaking ground.
An old man stands
a few feet from
the guided tour.
Dignified,
this bulgy Bill Murray,
wears his shorts
his yellow polo
his hat
a Disney princess bag
despite the cold
the rain.
IV. Victoria Park, WA4
I sit on a bench.
Traffic and voices
dissolve into the distance.
One tree towers with
drooping branches.
The day hides its scattered clouds.
Chopped tree trunks protrude from the short grass;
guests that won’t leave a finished party.
A cyclist flies circling the rose bushes.
I could be anywhere. This comforts me.
I could be anywhere. This saddens me.
_--
E Regan
I. Victoria Park, WA4
Empty pavement
finds you walking on it.
The shape of an unlit
streetlight guides you,
brown railings separate
you from the weir.
Turning, two lone
green benches greet you,
above, the trees stark
against Hokusai sky.
Unseen waters
tumble, and
G
I
N
G
E
!
cries a railing.
Dog walkers enter and
fade into the trees,
characters in an
absurdist play.
Sign, yellow spells:
DANGER!
Risk of Falling
Risk of Drowning.
You feel at home
in nothing places.
II. Birmingham New St
I held on to you like the empty bottles
and wrappers you wish to discard
on a long train journey
with many changes.
III. Montserrat, Spain
Things emerge.
Autumnal branches.
Montserrat’s high arches,
Its Daliesque peaks.
The bells shatter the
bone-creaking ground.
An old man stands
a few feet from
the guided tour.
Dignified,
this bulgy Bill Murray,
wears his shorts
his yellow polo
his hat
a Disney princess bag
despite the cold
the rain.
IV. Victoria Park, WA4
I sit on a bench.
Traffic and voices
dissolve into the distance.
One tree towers with
drooping branches.
The day hides its scattered clouds.
Chopped tree trunks protrude from the short grass;
guests that won’t leave a finished party.
A cyclist flies circling the rose bushes.
I could be anywhere. This comforts me.
I could be anywhere. This saddens me.
_--
E Regan
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Writing Sessions
Hey!
Nice one for joining me, Kate & Claire! Maybe you can make me look less sad by posting comments when I post a poem or story! ; )
Look fwd to interacting here. x
Nice one for joining me, Kate & Claire! Maybe you can make me look less sad by posting comments when I post a poem or story! ; )
Look fwd to interacting here. x
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