Satire III: The Relevance of Poetry
The manager tells why
He breathes out ashes,
Smelly gases,
Solidifies the sky
And tampers with the birds:
'Thoughtless beauty
Strikes a poet dumb.
For the relevance of words
I have done what I have done.'
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Les Fleurs des Mots: Poeme Francais Debut
Deux acteurs, elles sont femmes,
Deux sont hommes francais.
Une femme est francaise,
Une, est espagnole.
Un homme, il s'appelle Hugo,
L'autre est Roberto.
Inez est la femme francaise,
Maria, la espagnole.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Solitary Child
confused into belief,
from belief then teased away,
told there's waste in love,
knowledge lies in all,
no secrets lie above,
stayed away,
hid away from love............................................. .......
poem by Douglas Scotney
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M: II: I Cannot Pay your Honour
I have sought to triumph over nothing,
have tri-ed,
have failed to -umph.
Honour is paid
By accepting honour.
By accepting honour,
I would honour trying,
would honour lack of -umph.
I cannot pay your honour.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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B: II: The Dreamer
Expectation, aiming high
On field no friend of dreams,
Soon told to lower sights,
Said, 'No! I will be stronger,
Learn to dream much longer,
Turn my days to nights,
Make myself unable to
Not do what I can't do.'
poem by Douglas Scotney
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M: VII: Who Could Know?
He supposed
There had been tribes
Thought dawn
Night's attempt
To forestall coming light,
Childhood
Dark's attack on prudence.
Who could know
What red arsenal
Night
Might muster in the black,
What manufactures dark?
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Working Title
Whatever we are the soul of
That we can never see.
Whatever we of the soul are
Soul can't see equally.
Above and below
No soul can know
What floats upon its sea
Or, with or without the flotsam,
That soul will always be.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Bushfire
Those were the days
When the pines
And the star and the sky
Kept me out of the toaster
That is now the dominant scene
Now the pines are orange not green.
This is the day
When the sky and the star
Hug what's left of the green.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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X Can Do
Unable to do
he became able to do,
unable to do again,
able to do again
and unable to do again.
He was unpotentialized,
potentialized,
expotentialized,
repotentialized
and reexpotentialized.
Someone said it was the honey.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Birth of Day
Babe is night
And mum is day.
Dawn is day's lullaby
To ease the sense of emptiness
Night gets at early light.
'Am I all that's left? '
Asks silhouetted palm.
'You're nothing if not right, '
Lullaby replies,
Comforting the night.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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