Posts Tagged ‘writing’

If A Little Care is Given

In her raised collar,
she showed him sepals
beneath the flower;

and see, the flower head
sits on the narrow stem
so delicately, she said;

and, blushing, went on,
it will bloom hot pink,
if a little care is given.

 

Julian O’Dea 

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in her upturned collar

in her upturned collar
she points out the sepals
at the base of the flower

Julian O’Dea 

At Night

At Night

I read the strange things
written on the door to sleep;
and feel my mind fall apart
like cut fruit and my heart
make ripples in the mirror
of myself; gratefully sinking
into an abyss only fitfully
lit by luminous fancy.

 

Julian O’Dea

Two poems

I went to a beach
to collect shells
but came back
with these poems
that dwell in my
rock pool mind

Julian O’Dea

 

the wind plays with
the blushing leaves
on an autumn day
and the trees rustle
in their lines beside
the empty playing
field like waiting
cheerleaders

Julian O’Dea

Alice Springs

ALICE SPRINGS

We took the plane
to the centre over red
dunes like ripples

and rivers like wrinkles
and empty lakes like
dried tears

and landed in a town
where people live
in the river

a land like the answer
to an old riddle.

Some bloke had
screwed up with a load
of feral horses

and the publicity
Down South
had been unwelcome:

“I think they took him
round the back and
showed him what’s
what”:

whitefella law in
blackfella country.

 

Julian O’Dea 

Deep in Her Eyes

Deep in her eyes
I sèe blue blooms
as constant as
God’s sky

As Dante smote
by Beatrice’s eyes
I see and write
of Paradise

 

Julian O’Dea

Shades of Earth

 

Her lipsticks are shades
of earth from the land
of love; her scents the airs
from perfumed dreaming
isles; where swaying trees
adorned with fruit stand
by softly curving bays.

 

Julian O’Dea