Poem: THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT

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So, 5 months is a normal gap between blog posts, yes? Those of you who are Facebook friends will know that I’ve been busy rearranging my life. I’ve moved from Sydney to Mangrove Mountain, living on a farm and selling fresh produce at a grower’s market.
In other words, my only excuse for not blogging is that I am still perennially lazy, as I warned you about here.
But anyway, it’s Christmas. Xmas. Yuletide. Malkh. Saturnalia. Hannukah. Natali Invictus. Kwanzaa. Taiwanese Constitution Day. People have different reasons for celebrating the season, but the main thing to me is not the story behind the festival … its the mood. We shouldn’t NEED a reason to be happy and nice and a little bit silly, no matter what the time of year. (Oh look, there’s a whole diatribe just waiting to spew out and preach itself at people … another time perhaps, Darryn). Point is, no matter what your beliefs or heritage or situation, have a great holiday.
Tara and I will be at Coast Shelter serving lunch and bringing seasonal cheer to the less fortunate; if you’re in the area, sing out and say Hi!

The Christmas Spirit

That special time of year has come
For ham and beer and Christmas fun.
The gifts are there, beneath the tree;
Our spirits all are running free.

Have you noticed, round this time,
How people treat each other fine?
Where we’d get cranky through the year,
Instead we’re filled with Christmas cheer.

I wonder why it should be so –
Why do we lose that Christmas glow?
Why should “Goodwill to all men”
Run out just as December ends?

Maybe we should all remember
This, from January to November.
Try and keep that glow alight;
Pick a friend and not a fight.

Our lives would doubtless all improve
If we stayed in that Christmas groove
All year round and all day long –
All those Elves just can’t be wrong!

© Darryn Roberts 2003

Poem: SMALL

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Hi there!
Sorry I’ve been absent again – school holidays came along, so I parented. Plus I think I did some other things, but who can remember?
Here’s another poem I wrote during my ‘black dog’ days.

Small

In the room for five minutes
And I’m choking on my inadequacy.
It’s like I’m a ghost who can’t moan;
Or a shadow
Disappearing in everyone else’s light.
Gradually I feel smaller
And less included –
And not a soul notices.
Do they not see it because
I’m insignificant?
Or am I only insignificant
Because they don’t see?
It’s not always this way –
Sometimes I’m the Big Shot
And the whole world spins
With me as it’s axis.
I love that, and hate the other.
Sometimes I wanna shake everyone
And scream “Look At Me!!!”
But I doubt I’d have the balls.
If I did, maybe it would be worse –
Because if they looked
And still couldn’t see anything
I’d be proven right.

© Darryn Roberts 2002

Poem: A SNOWFLAKE IN MY HAND

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Wow! It’s cold this week in beautiful Sydney. I haven’t checked, but I think the average temperature has been brrr degrees with a high of you’re kidding and dropping to a low of holy crap! overnight. Those who live elsewhere might be surprised to know that it does occasionally snow in the Sydney basin – not in the metropolitan areas, because the concrete + electricity + car combination makes it too warm no matter what the air temperature – but up in the Blue Mountains to the west of the urban area, it’s apt to come down white a couple of times a year. All of which puts in mind of a poem, funnily enough.

A Snowflake In My Hand

Swirling, floating, drifting,
Falling to ground,
The crystal catches the
Moonlight and shines.

Like a single knot
In a vast white tapestry,
It seeks its place
And settles in comfortably.

It’s nothing, really –
A fleeting, pretty joy;
One of Nature’s quirky delights,
Vanishing as it rests in your hand.

But it’s beautiful and serene
And it’s gentle.
It makes my lady smile
And that makes it more precious than gold.

© Darryn Roberts 2002

PS – Juice Fast update: I’ve lost 3kgs so far, I’m still not hungry, and I just had a banana & coconut smoothie. This may be one of these weeks when it sucks to be not-me.

Poem: SORRY

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Guilt is a pretty primal emotion. In fact, if I was to invent a ‘Scale of Feelings’, it would be up there with the rest of the ‘Passions’: grief, anger, lust, joy & mirth. It’s a passion because it comes on strong in its early stages, and later settles down to something a little more even-tempered (in this case, remorse or regret). But while you’re in the grips of the passions, its easy to say things or do things that may be you wouldn’t do if you were being objective, things you would advise your friends against doing if they were in your shoes. The first step to dealing with guilt is to confront it. Face up to your acts. Face up to any aggrieved parties. Be prepared to take the consequences. Learn a lesson, whatever it may be, and then get on with your life.

Sorry

I’m sorry that I’m weak
I’m sorry for your pain
I’m sorry that I was the one
Who hurt you yet again
I’m sorry for the tears
That I know I’ve made you shed
I’m sorry that I couldn’t make you
Smile today instead.
I’m sorry things aren’t different
There’s so much I’m sorry for
So many things I should’ve done
Or said, now and before.
I’m sorry that I’m human
If I wasn’t so damn frail
I’d have nothing to be sorry for
Because I’d have never failed.
I’m sorry that I let you down
When most you needed me
I’m sorry that I wasn’t round
For all eternity
And though it probably doesn’t help
Or somehow make things right
Know I’ll be sorry all my days
And sorry all my nights.

© Darryn Roberts 2000

Poem: LIGHTNING HAIKU

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Following on from yesterday’s haiku, here’s another one. It’s probably even less technically correct than the other one, but dammitall, poetry isn’t, or shouldn’t be, scientifically constructed. If DEAD POETS SOCIETY taught us anything, it taught us that.
And that playing Puck can kill you.

Lightning Haiku

Divine fire, silvery white
Tree smiter, life bringer,
Turns night to day

© Darryn Roberts 2007

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