Anatomically Incorrect
June 30, 2009
ANATOMICALLY INCORRECT
Travelling through neural networks
Shelving through dusty books
Weaving tales on the internet
Hiding behind strange looks.
Under waves of pretty girls
The lost poet and artist dwell
Preferring to wear Wisdom’s pearls
Underneath this well worn shell.
Hiding in calcified humour
Washed down with true grit
Harsh words may cut arteries
Dilute them with dry wit.
Rage runs riot through these veins
Strong bones fix me in my frame
A picture of health glowing nowhere
Anatomically incorrect again.
D.Hinson
The Virgin Words
June 28, 2009
THE VIRGIN WORDS
I can’t wait to devour them
To deflower them
the virgin words on a page
combined harvesters of truth
hidden lies in disguised in
oratory delights to furnish flights
fanciful and young, flowering
fragrant on the tongue.
Bathe in the residue in the fading light
they burn like wax on winter nights.
A delicious treat
savour the taste
All words are precious
leave nothing to waste.
Use them …don’t abuse them.
D.Hinson
June 09
Frida
June 22, 2009
Shadows dance on rough stonework
Surreal sketches fill blank pages
Desert sun warms her soul
But inside a lion heart rages.
Baking in her cactile garden
Thoughts blow around in the breeze
Tangle in the wild rose bush
While admiring industrious bees.
Beauty can lie in perfection
In vibrant colours reflected
She sits in imperfect portraits
Her barren lands prospected.
Symbols of pain and disease
Braided between Life and Death
Revolutionary artwork remains
Woven in her final breath.
D.Hinson
One for the goddess
June 21, 2009
When I’m in distress
I call Diana the huntress
When I put on my nightie
I call on sweet Aphrodite
When I need some wisdom
I call Sophia the sage
I’ll call Hecate
when I reach a certain age
When I’m feeling ill
I call Hera to heal
some other goddesses
just don’t appeal
Now Kali I keep her
locked in a cage
I’ll let her out one day
when I can handle my rage
I know I’ve missed a few
but there are to many to mention
by the time I’ve named them all
I’ll be collecting my pension.
So why not call on one
some day when you’re bored
Goddesses like us women
don’t like to be ignored.
D Hinson
Broken Goddess
June 20, 2009
Laying broken in a barren cornfield
Demanding to be heard but no one listens.
Deafened by echoes of the past
When love seemed to last an eternity.
The circle of friend’s laughter, like daisy chains
Unbroken, until she was forgotten.
In isolation she hibernates and patiently wades
Through waves of emotions for the tide to turn.
Sheep rocking her thoughts to sleep
Darn holes in security blankets.
The intolerant wool tangles around her feet
As she tries to unravel the heart of the matter.
The elements slowly erode her stone core
She will not be heard until we can listen.
D.Hinson
Back to the drawing board
June 20, 2009
BACK TO THE DRAWING BOARD
Plans erased, redrawn in pen
Shattered dreams are born again.
Solar powered new creations
New ideas to fuel whole nations.
Wind in sails keeps her blowing
In cyberspace plans keep growing
Earthships sail in deserts bloom
Environmental living room.
Must protect our natural resources
Or Mother Nature wil divorce us.
Plans are needed for our rebirth
We are the midwives of this earth.
D.Hinson
London
June 19, 2009
Capital city where little letters are lost
In urban lights easy picking fights with strangers
But choosing to keep out of danger high voltage in streets
Where fashion trends speed up until they crash
Into the stock exchange the city crumbling under ground
Rumbling homeless on the streets
Paved with gold legend told but the city ain’t so sweet.
As parliament talks Whitehall walks in crowds of resent.
Jobs cannot earn enough to pay city rent.
London waiting speed dating over too soon.
Standing by the Thames backlit by false moons.
Stars hiding in an electric sky, silence can’t hear
Your cry for help as the city pleas fall on deaf ears
Careers made for life until death do us part.
In Highgate Cemetry I made peace with the city,
Overcrowded but overgrown
As legends lay buried beneath my feet,
Ancient city full of dead people.
Londinium…….her treasure I found buried.
© D.Hinson
Transformation
June 18, 2009
TRANSFORMATION
In the sweet shop of distraction
Minds wander through neglect
Neurons fired but lost in action
Wires defunkt, sytems wrecked.
She lifts up the crescent moon
Filled with dazzling inspiration
Wakes the serpents up too soon
Ripening time for transformation.
Deceitful carpets of white flowers
Hide the thorns that cut her feet
Blood red blossom will devour
Hearts that dance to a new beat.
No time to play on mood swings
Wrapped in multitudes of sins
Mirrored woman reflects her soul
As the fair ground ride begins.
D.Hinson
Circus Tricks
June 18, 2009
Distractions distractions
No need to feel down
Pack up your troubles
There’s a circus in town.
Attractions attractions
Roll up for the fun fair
Dine on our new lady
With candy floss hair.
Distractions distractions
The juggler adds knives
Higher taxes, bigger cuts
Satisfy his ex wives.
Attractions attractions
She walks the tight rope
Balancing on the wire
Between death and hope.
Distractions distractions
Clowns plant gm seeds
In laboratory farms
More freaks they will breed.
Attractions attractions
The fortune teller knows
Behind the big tent action
Hide dodgy side shows.
Distractions distractions
The magician favourite trick
Making coins disappear
Into solid walls of bricks.
Attractions attractions
One thing can be certain
We’re left mystified
At the raised final curtain.
© D.Hinson
A Poet’s Fantasy
June 17, 2009
Firing on all cylinders
Lord Byron entertained
As the ladies swooned and sighed
I just felt well drained.
Shelley pulled up a chair
His comforting warm smile
Made me feel so welcome
I always liked his style.
Keats was looking troubled
Coleridge was out his head
Mr Eliot teased the cats
Byron was thinking of bed.
Wordsworth was lost in the hills
Blake was talking to God
Oscar was driving them wild
But I just felt very odd.
What was I doing here
Transcending precious time?
Perhaps there is no reason
Perhaps there’s only rhyme.
D.Hinson
