Monday, July 23, 2018

Ken Trimble #43 Shadows and light

Tumbleweeds in the subway
covered by shadows and light
rainy day morning in the
Strathbogie hills
as the train moves past
photographic images dripping
of winter.

A poet writes his soul down
on a napkin with a smoke
and beer

And the shadows and light
are greeted by a young deer
laughing freely without
condition playing with her
fairy folk friends.

The old man looks defeated
seeking heavens and mercies.

The train rocks it song
pass my hometown
a place I left for words
and ideas.

And the difference I sought
is no different from the factory
heart I thought to disappear

Coffee in Carlton taste the same
as here except maybe cheaper.

Travels merge to blur
as the train crosses the river
where you smelt the stink
of the tannery crawl
up your nose.

A soaring Kwan Yin
reaches upwards trying
to catch the sky

our lady of compassion.

The Kings and Queens
of the city wait patiently
for her arrivals covered by
a multitude of shadows
and light.


  1. wherever the soul is written
    surely the heart must go

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  3. I’m not so sure
    I think a lot of people
    In the arts detest the word
    Ordinary and think they’re special , ordinary
    Has got a bad rap we keep looking outside for things to make us happy we are like the man sitting on a box for fifty years. The Buddha told him you must get tired carrying that , why don’t you open i it up . The point is what’s in Carlton that isn’t in Sunshine . It’s our dissatisfaction that causes more suffering , my mum never left the western suburbs she had more wisdom than anyone I ever knew


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