Wednesday 13 April 2011

Party of Boys

(from William Golding's 'Lord of the Flies')

Dark was fumbling along within the diamond haze of the beach
Ralph watched till the intentness of his gaze drew all eyes that way
On to clear sand, creature stepped from mirage
Darkness was not all shadow but mostly clothing

Party of boys marched approximately in step in two parallel lines
Dressed in strangely eccentric clothing
Shorts, shirts, garments carried in their hands
Black cap, silver badge each boy wore

Black cloaks hid their throat to ankle
Long silver cross on the left breast
The heat, descent, search for food, sweaty march gave complexions of newly washed plums

He ordered
Halted, gasping, sweating, swaying in the fierce light
The boy himself came forward
Peered into what to him was almost complete darkness

Island

(from William Golding's 'Lord of the Flies')

Shore fledged with palm trees
Stood, leaned, reclined against the light
Green feathers were high up in the air
Coarse grass covered the ground beneath
Torn everywhere by the upheavals of fallen trees
Scattered decaying coconuts and palm saplings
Behind was the darkness of the forest proper
Open space of the scar
Ralph stood one hand against a grey trunk
Screwed up his eyes against the shimmering water
Perhaps a mile away
Out there
The white surf flinked on a coral reef
Beyond that the open sea was dark blue
Still as a mountain lake was within the irregular arc of coral the lagoon
Blue of all shades, shadowy green, purple
Endless apparently thin stick was beach between palm terrace and water
Palm and beach and water drew to a point at infinity
Always, almost visible, was
The heat

Saturday 5 March 2011

I wish to be a hope


Born as a free dandelion seed
Wandering the world, blowing in the wind
On a handful of dirt, finally landed

Born small, but I wish to grow large.
Born seed, but huge tree, I wish to be grown into
I wish to be a shelter for little creatures

Even if it means shivering in the rain
Root shaken in the storm
My whole body freezing in the cold

More than little creatures’ shelter
I’d like to be remembered as a hope
Born small, but I wish to be a big hope.

Wednesday 17 November 2010

The Pedestrian

In a small, dark room, the light flash on their faces
Their eyes seems possessed by the box in front of them
The only sound in the room is static noise and unnatural laughter

Away from these I walk for freedom
The fresh wind passing me tells me I am the only one who feel him.
The cold cement under me tells me I am the only one who walk over him
The silence in this huge city tells me I am the only one who is alive