Sky Water

Sky Water

A woman asks for water
aiming her camera at the sky.
Tracking the skies
for cosmic soul,
she frames a constellation.
in the dazzling light

A blind king
in a seemingly mundane world
spends moonless nights
surrounded by a wall;
he dreams of invisible light
falling into his kingdom’s river.

(c) June Perkins

Although I am having a break from most blogs and social media – I thought it would be fun whilst the family are on holiday to create some ‘found’ poems with a theme of universe and to create a few extended metaphors.

I enjoyed doing this when doing a recent poetry exploration of forms based on suggestions at Joyce Sidman’s website.

This one above, looks like two characters in a situation of drought just came into being. I wonder if they could be part of a new series. Time will tell. This one was inspired by a text book on astronomy and a book on Pacific Mythology.

You can find out more about how to create Found Poems Here

Day is a time for …

Day is a time for pain endured
Flaking skin and itching hours
Red map tattoo across my limbs

Longing for nights to sleep

Flaking skin and itching hours
Moment of calm in minutes free from pain
Longing for nights to sleep
I dream of a mermaid her first time with human feet

Moment of calm in minutes free from pain
Searching for a pathway to wellness
I dream of a mermaid her first time with human feet
Motivated by love she walks fearlessly

Searching for a pathway to wellness
Red map tattoo across my limbs
She walks fearlessly
Day is a time for pain endured

© June Perkins


I wrote this a week ago when going through a tough patch with my psoriasis.  Yesterday a glimmer of hope. I’m trying a new approach with life style management and nutrition. I often think about what psoriasis is teaching me.

I’ve used a pantoum structure for the poem.

Sorry Poem – Miranda speaks to her lost child


i am sorry
my lost one
that choosing a name for you has taken so long
it’s just we had to find it for you
when we were swimming in the butterfly tears

i thought
i knew it before you were born
but we you were here and gone so soon
the name we’d picked didn’t seem to fit you
not just right

i thought we needed a name
that said something about
where you were going
and where you came from
perhaps two names side by side
to keep each other company

so it was that Nevaeh
meaning heaven came into my mind
and then Tuwa from Hopi
meaning Earth

i wish you could have felt the earth
beneath your bare feet
just once
so you could remember it

so my little butterfly girl
Tuwa Nevaeh
may your flight
from earth to heaven
be a flight
from the cocoon of the
love from Jackson and i

may you emerge with wings
from the brief touch of our fingertips
and the dreams we had for
you that will never be

Tuwa Nevaeh – tiny princess
forever surrounded by
it’s time for me to name
you and say goodbye

(c) June Perkins

It felt like time to return to the story of Miranda and Jackson, but this time using some of the techniques and styles suggested by Sidman’s poetry prompts. I’ll start with the ‘Sorry Poem.‘ This is a character poem from the series on the Story of Miranda and Jackson.

Riddle Poem

Now here’s a poetry type I’d like to use in my current novel the RIDDLE.

I boom, crash and smash
and love to be recorded for
bbc sound effects for movies.

I can be ominous or
welcomed when there is drought
although my partner when she strikes
can cause fires.
Although she is tolerated more than me
for her dangerous beauty.

I am the sign of the storm
that you might fear as a child
as I give you nightmares
throughout the night.

I show you that sound travels
slower than light.

I send astrophobes under
the covers or tables
as they can never make peace
with me.

I remind you of stories
of halloween.

I am?

(c) June Perkins

Point of View Poem


Draft 1#

To take the point of view of a curtain fig tree
or a wallaby
I become part of the ecosystem
and see myself a part of it
not the ruler of it.

To take the point of view of a refugee
coming by air, or boat
from a camp or via an escape however they can
I see common humanity
and that fate could place me
there but somehow I was
given a home here through my
migrant mother marrying one
with citizenship.

To take the point of view of the
woman with her hijab hassled
in the streets because she represents
what some people fear makes
me wonder what I would feel and do.

To take the point of view of someone
who truly believes they are better
than me because of their colour
because someone told them so
and they were surrounded by others
who believed it so
and I am just an aberration
an exception to the rule
that feels like that would be so hard
to do.
Can I really step inside privilege and
feel comfortable?
Can I find any empathy for those
that have made me and others invisible?

To take the point of view of
person rising up and no longer
respecting people just because
they are born to privilege means
I see the long line of history
stretching back and people
oppressed rising up.
They are finding their voice.

To take the point of view
by walking a mile in someone else’s shoes
some of us have been doing that for centuries

Now we want to take off ill fitting shoes
and walk in ones we’ve made.

We want to walk in our bare feet
free from misconceptions, judgement
and with opportunity
into a future we’ve contributed to.


Today’s personal poetry challenge was a point of view poem. I wrote more about the process of trying to find a point of view poem. Perhaps my actual point of view poem will come into being over the next week. I do love the example poem Joyce Sidman has of Alice Shertle’s ‘A Frog in a Well sees the World.’

Night is a time for Sleep

2013-08-10 2013-08-10 001 022

Night is a time for sleep
The comfort of dreams where skin is clear
I run in the forests as my knees can bend
I am the me I remember again

The comfort of dreams where skin is clear
No more tears of frustration
I am the me I remember again
Fast and focused

No more tears or frustration
Keeping up with the world around me
Fast and focused
I run once again on a fresh cut field

Keeping up with the world around me
I run in the forests as my knees can bend
I run once again on a fresh cut field
Night is a time for sleep?

(c) June Perkins

This poem is a pantoum and works with repetition of lines. I was reflecting on my battle with psoriasis here. But the poem could be read in other ways if I changed the word skin to mind. I’ll play with it a bit more, but here is it’s current form.

You can find some more pantoum information here.  I think, as with Haiku, it’s one of those forms that with regular practice could become enjoyable and more highly realised.  The repetition is good for charged emotions.  I may attempt a few more of these.

Here is a guide if you want to have a go at it too – How to Write a Pantoum Poem.



For Phillip Hughes

No personal memories have I
only the memory of my son loving watching your games
on television.

He knows all your stats
and history as young Aussie cricketers tend to do.
On the day you passed the storms came suddenly
and hailstone the size of cricket balls
fell in the city that we lived.

I waited for my family to return
safely from abandoned cricket training
and mourned for your mother, father, brother and sister.

My memory of hospital waiting rooms
and intensive care still vivid after all these years.

My brother who loved sport
spent years in recovery
from head injuries
went from wheel chair to walking
from no speech to talking
I could sense what might lie ahead for your family
but your’s was a different fate.

The tributes for you flow
from cricketers the world over
young and old
England to India
captains to team mates
to junior cricketers
And beyond

Rugby to AFL and Tennis
politicians and more.

Parents of young cricketers everywhere
feel your parents loss
and like them celebrate their children’s joy of cricket.

Small consolation
you were doing what you loved
and that it could never have been any other way.

The flag’s at half mast at Lords
while celebrations of character not just sporting ability are posted in your honour.
Who can tell why the good are suddenly taken.

So we #putoutourbats
say 63 never out
for he who plays in heaven’s eleven.

One day people might ask
‘What where you doing the day
Phillip Hughes went to the eternal cricket ground
in the sky?’

Many young cricketers everywhere might dedicate
their first 63’s to you.

(c) June Perkins

A special tribute to Phillip Hughes can be found HERE.