Chris' Poetry

Long Drive

July 3, 2025

Poetry, poetry

A poem

I just returned from a long long drive
grateful to survive
speeding behemoths, weaving wanderers
time squanderers,
cars with names I no longer recognise, not Hondas
or Holdens,

I cribbed notes from poetry podcasts
as we cruised, I used the time as best I could
past wood and leaf under blue sky
every now and then we would spy
a tree, though dead, had been painted entirely blue
we Googled it of course!
it was for men’s health, I felt remorse for my ignorance,

On we pushed as hours went slowly by
each kilometre a calculation in mind
signs with surety proclaim
the total distance to our destination!
until at last our driveway greets us, welcome home
to begin the routine over again.

Author’s own

Chris

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I know time

June 30, 2025

poetry

A poem

I know time changes, carving rock, altering streams,

My rock is smoothed in rivers, worn down,

In swift currents moving, tumbling to the ocean where pebbles rest easy in deep dark silent ocean waters.

Farewells to our loved ones final or temporary rend times curtain,

The heart has its own calculations adding or subtracting loss or gain beyond the rational.

I know time flows insistent and consistent, I would have it stop for a moment,

To breathe without the ticking clock on lifes stern mantle piece.

Chris

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Begin the dread

June 21, 2025

poetry

A poem for tomorrow

Ah yes, we have family coming!

begin the dread

start the anxiety motor

let the catastrophe unfold in your mind

while all are asleep

your lightest gauge string is wound tight

do we turn it one more time?

Ah yes, begin the dread by all means

then it will be over

you’ll smile and say “That went OK”

C25

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Something Good

June 20, 2025

poetry

A poem

I saw something grow
from the debris,
the remains of you and me,
scarlet phoenix
from those ashes born
in turbulent times,

In the forest wind stirs,
deep woods
hold the secrets of self,
time to open the lid
on all the secrets we keep,
to find space for her
books on my shelf,

The sun rises
over dark days
we count our blessings
in many ways,
old paths no longer serve
to take us deeper
in wisdoms’ winding ways,

Those who pay
prices we cannot afford
applaud the new,
something grew from ash
something scarlet
blood fed,
which had been thought dead,

Wind stirs the ashes
as ember flares into life
my love, my wife
we are renewed in trial
we survived,
phoenix born we flew.

C25

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Get out of the house

June 19, 2025

poetry

A poem

Get out of the house!

Do something!

move yourself off the couch

be something!

do something!

see something!

or

just curl up and die

They found him in the

foetal position

clutching the manuscript

He never

finished,

he had never written.

C 25

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Something significant

June 8, 2025

poetry

A poem of promise and hope.

Author’s own

There is something significant in small moments
so subtle and satisfying it is to pause.

Invitational and relational each leaf that flutters and falls,
you may say it doesn’t matter at all.

The altar in nature’s church is a living loving thing, it brings
joy to the solemn seeker, and to this speaker.

I shuffle along leaf strewn winter streets marvel at the movement
all around, how spiritual! and how deeply profound.

There is something superbly simple and significant right there
in small moments, find them dear friend if you can,

Perhaps there will be a small revolution, or revelation
internally even perhaps eternally.

Chris P

2025 Winter South Australia

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I wonder

June 6, 2025

poetry

Author’s own

A poem

I wonder
when my last breath
is drawing near
what will I share?
I wonder,
on that ledge will
I turn and
pledge undying faith
or just yield
to endless space?
I wonder
if I will even recognise
it is time to go.
I’ve never been
a great judge of timing,
perhaps
we drift away insensate
to time
wrapped in our cold
skin, change begins
to what?
I wonder.

Chris 2025

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Porcelain Shop

June 2, 2025

poetry

A poem

See the man in the porcelain shop

crashing bashing,

carelessly destructive,

says he “admires beauty”

littered aisles testify otherwise,

He only pauses to blame

the porcelain itself for being so delicate,

so unattainable!

and on and on he goes when he’ll stop?

no-one knows.

Chris

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Faint hearted

May 30, 2025

poetry

A poem

Her music
is not for the faint hearted
someone said,
not for the faint hearted?
My ears started,
pulse raced
my hibernating soul stirred
but my faint heart
kept beating
disproving the notion
absolutely
entirely,
faint heart be damned
my ears
are crammed.

To P J H

Chris 2025

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Gliding

May 24, 2025

poetry

For John

We all move, instinctively, to melody, rhythm
that moves me, moves us,
we sway, stomp we glide,
Transitions when seamless allow opportunity,
to intrude, break through,
allow our heart freedom, profound
to glide, to sway on this sacred ground.

If you picture the scene, we mean
humans move between all the places we’re meant to be
places we know, if we are unhurried, unsullied
by the stab of stress and woe, we may glide
an economic expression of spirituality.

Aspirations invite review,
we have many platforms on this line
passengers know this station
seamless integration,
from carriage to platform and carriage again
gliding like my hands over silk
pleasure in the moment drives the destination
an aspirational devotion.

Chris 2025

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