My New Universe

My New Universe

This new universe of mine

came hurtling along at a very convenient time.

Blue skies and Summer green,

Cool water down at the beach,

and some housework for good measure.

I love having my new universe.

Many of the things from the last universe 

seem to have made their way into this one too.

All makes me wonder,

What begins the process

of a New universe,

and what is making this one hurtle so?

I never noticed

a Higgs boson

particle

or any other kind of collision.

is this all in my mind?

Clean

Clean

I clean,

swiping dust before me.

Adding a mist of water

here and there.

Toxic liquid

I squirt

around the walls and floor.

The room begins to grin

and sparkles,

as the surfaces 

in the rooms

we use for cleaning

ourselves

get a clean

of their own.

The Ghost on Dead Bird Run

I rise,
silent,
in the dark
and peer out
at the wind, strong but not impossible.
Nothing is impossible.

I lace
up
silently
and don a vest
for safety.

I step out on
Bird Road,
keeping silent still.
In step,
maintaining pace,
inhale the morning air,
asthmatic lungs rhythmic.

This run
has
landmarks.
Once there was
a dead bird
right there,
squashed, flat.
A dead Pukeko,
dead by the ditch
saddened me then.

Today it is me. Looking. Running.
I see the crescent moon,
waxing and thin,
Venus and those other planets,
they were in line a week ago, now
spinning off on their own tracks. Me?
But then
a random shooting star
I say "shooting star" out loud...
...
and I'm aware
that
I'm the ghost
on Dead Bird Run.

Other poetic ideas of the late evening.

Who are the characters in the city?
What are the streets like?
What buildings are there?
What noise?
What sights?
What sounds? Smells?
A whole city!
Me.

Why silence?

Silence

I get very lonely.

The silence surrounds me.

My gatekeeper…a huge monster…a jelly-like Michelin Man… huge, heavy…stops me.

“Stay where you are!” he commands. “Be quiet!”

He’s got me trapped. 

I get very lonely. 

Quiet.

“ You've always tried to run away!” he says

“to a girlfriend, teachers college, a School, a hot air balloon, inside the earth, on a canoe in the middle of nowhere, Europe on a train, Bhutan in a dungeon, somewhere else.”

I always come back to the gatekeeper. 

I get very lonely.

It is quiet at the gate.

I wonder what is inside the city

The city that belongs to me, my city.

The gatekeeper always stops me from seeing it.

 I get very lonely.

 He laughs as I go hunting for something, somewhere else… quietly. 

I get very lonely.

Wondering, I look back at the wall with the city behind.

What if there is chaos? A bit like my own life.

I might have no control. A bit like my own life.

I get very lonely.

A jelly of silence.

My own.

Todays collection of words

These words will turn into a poem soon.

Gate keeper. Sad. Heavy. Gut, full. Heart empty. Head overloaded, overworked , overwhelmed, over used.

The city behind the wall.

Chaos. Control. No control. dark and light.

constant sadness.

Lonely.

The Real Leprechaun

My family was on holiday in Ireland.

We spent some time in Dublin.

It was December 30th 2010

We took our three boys and two nieces for a tour of the National Leprechaun Museum.

At the end of the visit I was inspired to write this short poem about my day.

                                            The Real Leprechaun

                                            Today I woke and rode

                                                    then ran

                                               through the park of the Phoenix

                                              past a herd of deer

                                                  sleeping in the dark

                                               of a Dublin dawn.

                                              Came to the place of

                                                 the faery

                                               heard the story of Setanta

                                                    and the hound of Chulainn.

Andrew Thompson