Rushing like a blur

Yesterday I found myself writing on scraps of paper as everything outside kept on rushing by like a blur, past this tin and plastic mobile box I was in for some hours. Here be the bits and pieces of poetry I managed to string together while watching the grass, the dirt stream by, rushing like a blur. Let me know what you think, just a crazy bit of writing…

Grass blur

Rushing like a blur

Watching the grass, the dirt stream by
Rushing like a blur to the day now gone
To fall the thoughts darkened thunderheads
Frayed edges of tar, black edged stones

Enter thoughts of the splintered lands
A world turned inside out shaken down
Two setting suns seek to sleep horizons
Three orphans running from their pasts

Heading out far to find  their futures
On the seas, adventures through the skies
Can you hear their voices as they shout it out
Treading decks of their world with Koice

Meeting friends these strangers along the way
Their shrinking homelands their families gone
To be making for the spreading dark sea rising
Here to meet each their fates running head strong

Comes the jolt rushing through the cutting
Weary uncollected thoughts pulse once, twice
Stop breathing cold glass inflicted tin, like tops
The blur rests stationary not awake, just nothing

Is there more to come, to follow on before
Mountains, forests, and the seas, peoples
The splintered lands drift no continents
Motion subtle not a dream left waiting long

Flesh plant fleeing order chaos waits
Where fire, air, water, earth collide
Transitions their states each blur rushing
Like the streaming grass outside, living

Past futures shatter glass silk the rush
Dust fill stories on high winds since forgotten
Where metal crumples in a contact heat roars lost
Deep in clouds as the cotton rag seizes words

Where in a flicker liquid blue rushing in a blur
Fills the dark set moments of sipping wine
At rest into wander on a round hill caught
Somewhere between a river by the sea

Waiting for the mist to take the moon
In stories old they still do know once
For there’s no navigators sky tonight
While they seep above a dull facade

Just drifting in the broken spinifex
Waiting a return to ocean sounds
Voices they carry a deluded night’s
ten thousand years since once her

Coloured ties with mulberry eyes
She’s flamboyant at a glance
As her heels click upon the pavement
In the once history she does hold

To passing sunset billboards
Once a few old corner pubs
Making for her studio home
Leaving for a future on the run

Conversations in the fading light
The future is now here to Snare
Ava, with Charon breathe fresh life
These orphans of a different world

Though for now all I see is
The grass, the dirt
Streaming by,
Rushing like a blur…

Land surveyors

4 responses to “Rushing like a blur

  1. Yea!!! I found it… I’m still feeling sleepy, slept late last night! Now to talk about your poem, do you have a muse that impact you one way or the other? Because I can feel the plot of different stories pulsating through this piece. The orphans, and this,’Where in a flicker liquid blue rushing in a blur Fills the dark set moments of sipping wine At rest into wander on a round hill caught Somewhere between a river by the sea.’ You’ll start a story and expertly jumps into another. I hope you’ll consider publishing some of this poems, it shouldn’t rest in here alone.
    Much love. 🙂

    • The change in the intensities come from different places. The beginning and end be from the two hour drive home (the blur) along a highway from a job site.

      The sipping wine is me dreaming of being where the image at the top post from the link below. It is from on top of a round hill overlooking Zilzie Bay and the confluence of two major coastal creeks that meet at the sea, as wide as a river as they meet the Coral Sea.

      The references to the splintered lands (the orphans) is just me thinking about a set of stories I’m still working on, which easily could evolve into a novel without too much difficulty.

      The girl walking past the sunset billboard, that was just someone I saw walking up the street while I was waiting at an intersection in the city part of town here heading home at the end of the day.

      Random thoughts and experiences from just the one day, the same day the poem was written. Publishing, I need to sit down and sort through what I’ve got in regard to poems. Short stories, still a few to work on there, but in time they’ll get there. 🙂

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