Sestina: Terminataur
Enveloped by the glow of bedside light,
a small child listens spellbound to a plot.
A parent tells a story quite absurd
of cyborgs, birds and dinosaurs, most mean.
A science fiction tale of keen-edged claw
and culminating fast with time machine.
‘A fearsome shrewd reptilian machine
was lurking ‘mid striated cycad light.
His iridescent scaly skin and claw
advising ‘gainst the trespass of his plot.
A grey bird hovered close; what could it mean?
and conversation flowed; now that's absurd'!
‘Tyrannosaurus said, 'You're quite absurd',
'a cyborg bird with so-called time machine',
'and plans which sound both devilish and mean',
'involving death by catastrophic light'.
'You wish to beg my pardon for the plot',
'and ask respectfully to shake my claw'? ! ? ! ? ! '
[...] Read more
poem by Diane Hine
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Sestina: A bird in the bamboo
The potter carried home a broken plate
and passing through a grove of tall bamboo,
some thing within disturbed the verdant sheen.
Intrigued, he stopped awhile to rest and wait.
A bird shot skyward, straight as arrow true,
turned somersaults and plunged back into green.
The bird had left the safety of the green,
to see from high the land as coloured plate.
An overview, to give perspective true.
Imprint in mind a map of home's bamboo
and then to hide and rest in patient wait,
before an insect hunt by thin moon's sheen.
The potter's wife delighted in the sheen,
of jagged shards of crackle-glazed jade green.
With supper not quite ready, while he wait,
he set about to mend the shattered plate.
When laid beside their wares of plain bamboo,
it's beauty shone and both declared this true.
[...] Read more
poem by Diane Hine
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Purled and Plain
A century ago or more,
a ship was wrecked in seas remote
and ‘mid the flotsam cast ashore
on limestone coast, was boy and goat.
On windswept isle of grass and scrub,
the goat was free from ship's confine,
The boy used frantic hands to grub
the remnants spat from sated brine.
Some bags of wheat, a box of tools,
he dug from sand to grant relief,
Though most the bounty lay in pools,
unreachable on distant reef.
He supplemented meagre fare
with bitter berries plucked from shrub,
And mutton birds entrapped with snare
were baked on fire, sparked by rub.
[...] Read more
poem by Diane Hine
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Maybe
Say, eighteen hundred thousand years ago
A lightning strike set blaze a bushy plain
And seared the seeds of life that hid below.
When cooled, a group appeared on charred terrain
And scratched the earth with thumb-opposing hands
In search of tuber, pulse or wild grain.
Alert and ill-at-ease in open lands
The scattered stones and sticks provided arms
And held aloft, some branches glowed like brands.
Then shelter bound, they took their smoking charms
To ward against their fears, yet knew not how
They held an epoch's clock within their palms.
A child played with cast-off ashy bough
And fed a spark from which a tiny flame
then sparked a torch in every bony brow.
[...] Read more
poem by Diane Hine
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Evariste Galois
A duel, only mist will intervene,
Two men, a line of numbers span between,
The field in which they stand, a complex plane,
Which maths equations set this tragic scene?
Not twenty-one, a headstrong youth in vain,
Would rather give his life than bear a stain,
A thwarted love and challenge made in haste,
A brilliant, yet impulse blighted brain.
Diverse mishaps of fortune interlaced;
Political conspiracy is traced,
Rejections academic, mental blot,
A father who could never be replaced.
Equations may be solvable or not,
Republicans may fall in twisted plot
Solutions may be simple or obscure,
A genius may die by pistol shot.
[...] Read more
poem by Diane Hine
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Bard and The Brewer
Mid the middle ages, lived a middle-aged bard,
earning middle wages spinning fables and canard.
Running short of cash one day and feeling parched and stale,
he gambled on poetic sway to win a pint of ale.
The brewer, amazonic woman, also middle-aged,
wore an inharmonic scowl, her countenance was caged.
The bard surveyed her muscled bulk, his eyes flicked left and right,
pausing at her sulky hulk and downcast mouth clamped tight.
The bard assumed a winsome charm, he'd done so half his life.
The day before, he'd fast disarmed the cake-armed baker's wife.
He said, ‘I came for ale my dear, but find my thirst suppressed'.
'From drinking in your visage clear, my needs are reassessed'.
'May I just say I'm blessed, for you are Venus in a vest'
and hope it won't transgress if I should compliment your chest'.
[...] Read more
poem by Diane Hine
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Buying a Car
I wanted a car when I wearied of walking.
With savings in hand, I left home to peruse.
The dealer was helpful, bright-eyed and fast-talking.
He offered two models from which I could choose.
The first looked immaculate, surfaces gleaming,
compared to the other, defaced by a scratch.
"The price is the same", said the car dealer, beaming.
I deemed him unscheming, so asked "What's the catch"?
He mumbled and hemmed as he opened each bonnet.
I missed all his words, for the squeak of the hood.
While first engine, seamless, had no mark upon it,
the other was patchwork of iron and wood.
The first car, he promised, would cause me no worry,
the makers long trusted with local renown.
He offered a test drive, said "No need to hurry,
as long as you stay within limits of town".
[...] Read more
poem by Diane Hine
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Mathematical Star Signs
A Mass of Aries rams describes a Curl
Potentially connected to a Field
Some Fractal of Mechanics may unfurl
A Calculus of fuzzy-logic yield.
Quadratic Taurus bulls do not Equate
So don't get Knotted arguing the toss
Although with cows they'll gladly permutate
Inverting them with Product makes them Cross.
Most Geminis are tied in Causal Loop
Because their brains are Hypobolic Plot
So if you Add their salad to their soup
It anti-matters them and matters not.
Cancerians love Cartographic law
Their kind presents a Strange Attractor risk
But should their Bifurcations start to bore
They make delicious Metamathic bisque.
[...] Read more
poem by Diane Hine
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Hemispheres
Near
vertical adhering
corpus-callosum adjoins sheared
surfaces of mirrored brain hemispheres.
Reason and imagination need both halves in gear.
Language, emotion and reason are not commandeered
by one side or the other, a popular notion for some years.
But they do have unique roles and either one may domineer
the other, depending on need. The left, is a careful engineer,
responsible for precisely focussed concentration. Volunteering
a broader perspective, the right assumes the role of a mutineer
when danger threatens. It is our vigilant lookout, our summiteer,
keeping us in touch with the rest of the world. To judge insincere
from sincere, to out-wit opponents, to empathize. The frontiers
of the intangible and technical, of the metaphoric and austere,
are attended by specialists. The right can interpret a sneer,
evaluate body-language and distinguish jests from jeers.
The left, can study intricacies of crafts, and persevere.
Linked by corpus-callosum, they signal and interfere.
Is it any wonder we oftimes sense an overseer?
[...] Read more
poem by Diane Hine
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
A Farce.
Caesar thought he was out of reach
'midst weeds and grass, he ate a peach.
Pompeia, his wife, found him at last
Palms held up, she delivered a blast.
'Caesar, new lawn is coming today,
get busy, clear weeds, cut grass, don't play.'.
He said 'Stop, enough of your SNORTS AND BAWL'.
Biting ONCE MORE INTO THE PEACH, he obeyed her call.
And when he was done, found that that wasn't all.
'RAKE HAY WHILE THE SUN SHINES'
said Gran with a fag on her lip
'SEIZE THE HAY', said Pompeia,
whilst beating cream with a whip.
Caesar said 'How about help, I'd expect no less'.
'We're making a trifle for Dan's wife Ness'.
'Who? '
'you know, NESS ESSITY..........THE MOTHER OF VIN VENTION'.
Caesar stuck in his finger and licked causing tension
'Why? ', wailed Pompeia and hit him with a sieve. Ding!
[...] Read more
poem by Diane Hine
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!