I was on a ship not long ago

That seemed destined to reach the horizon soon.

But you could tell from the growling and grinding of the engines,

The furrowed brows of weary seaman and bleeding deckhands,

That the captain’s dream was paved with  bloody sacrifice.

Our lives became a living dreamtime story.

Blurring sunrise and sunset till the holy Sabbath

Became depressing metaphor.

I saw the flag fluttering…

ON MEETING THE AUSTRALIAN POETIC GIANT-PETER SKRZYNECKI



He spoke with a gentle humour-

Blissfully unaware of the aura

That filled spaces around his diminutive frame.



As he unravelled pieces of his candid chronicle,

I saw the scars beneath those glistening eyes

Fighting to control the flood

That accompanies the revisiting of painful moments of a past-

Now-prescribed poems for an unwitting generation.



I wonder if each  fifteen…