Post it Notes

June Perkins's photo.
One of the dragons my daughter has created

Here I am with my daughter catching a bus to the art museum.
We don’t talk but with our dark brown eyes look for
inspiration out at the land scrolling
past the windows.

What we share most is a love of the creative.
For her it’s online comics, art and stories.
She has a recommended reading list for me and
is itching to beta read my current book in progress.

Here anyhow’s one decent thing – the way she leaves post it notes
concerning dragons on the loose
and how she hopes I have the best writing day
on my desk.
She’s just making sure
a dragon makes it into the story

Today I attempted an important person poem.  I have written these before but today’s inspiration is to use three starters to stanzas inspired by Wilfred Sassoon. I am not in a rhyming mood though.

Art singing and dancing in the Streets

One way to find a poem is to go on the lookout for street art . . .

Pearlz Dreaming

2014-05-07 2014-05-10 001 008 June Perkins – photograph of power box Brisbane

Art in the city, not shut away in galleries, but everywhere you look.
It’s on power boxes, telegraph poles, railway station walls.
climbs onto walls and alleyways.
chalked, painted, sprayed, and poster papered.

It’s murals with messages from Martin Luther King
everytime I used to catch the bus in Marrickville
I’d see his face with an Aboriginal flag behind it.

It’s pieces that make you think, smile, wonder remember nature.
Driving past telegraph poles to the Gold Coast
we catch nature wrapping itself around telegraph poles,
birds and trees just in case we don’t see the real
they’re there in art.
I would love to go back and photograph these artistic poles.

I think of the artists commissioned or perhaps underground ones.
What are their names?
Are their signatures there?
Is there a guidebook somewhere to tell me the story of the…

View original post 150 more words

Mona Lisa’s Bones

Do bones want to smile
Once the flesh is gone to become
One with the earth?

Do hands want to touch
The freed soul that flies from bones
One with the heavens?

Beauty’s canvas dies
The paint covers abstractions
Becomes impressions.

Impressions of life
Like a lost butterfly’s wing
Fade in artist’s memory

Bones can bring tears
When families’ searches are over
Now peace can be found

Hands cannot reach out
To pull them from fate
One with heavens?

Beauty is unravelled
In agonies of the lost
Truth is found clear

Still waters invite
Midnight runners to find their visions

In a moth’s night touch.

(c) June Perkins

For some background: see
Mona Lisa’s Bones

Rainbow Gaze

Frog in recovery – June Perkins

A day of rainbows
Everywhere I look

Frog recovering
And put into a mini hospital
Made by caring children
Perched on glass above a kite

Children dancing in playgrounds
Climbing high to the rainbow filtered sky
Wearing hats of technicolour

DSC_0433
Rainbow shade cover- June Perkins

Walls down narrow streets
Tagged and painted to chase
Away boredom with art

Rainbow gaze
day ablaze

With colours

(c) June Perkins

DSC_0480
Hats – by June Perkins
DSC_0454
Down Under Wall – Cairns – June Perkins

 

Geranium Lake

Orquideas, pajaros y flores . Medellin - 2009
Medellin – Flickr Creative Commons

Vincent Van Gogh

I am a lover
Without love.

My church takes away
My Priesthood.

I am a Vicar
Whose church is
Esoine red,
Geranium lake.

I am a painter
Who half sees
Empty chairs
Geranium lakes,
Black crows.

I am Beethoven’s
Right hand man.

Curated light cancers
My cherry trees.

Our orchards bear white apples.

I am my painted
Yellow sunflowers.

I am a
Painted love geranium
Tormented
Esoine red.

By June Perkins

Impressions

Tropical reflections5
                      Reflections – June Perkins

Monet
I
A cathedral attracts me
Day by Day
To find the way light
Falls.

I see gaps of darkness
Fade away,
But oh
How I long
For my garden
Red poppies
Flowing river
Waves in ponds
Bridges suspended over
Reflections
Of a garden in water.

Lotuses form lilies,
Whispering to me
Mocking my blindness as
I look through glasses,

See strange tints reflecting
The way
Time falls.

By June Perkins

Open Windows

01pioneering art by Paulien Bats- words June Perkins
Pioneering art by Paulien Bats- words June Perkins

Always so positive
Giving life and love to her children
Supported by her husband,
Painter of trees
Doorways and open windows.

Soul of Dali
Van Gogh
Once restless
But now finding that
Which they did not,
Finding her spirit and art
Can intertwine
Like the roots of a mangrove tree.

And what I know
Is they lived in the Outback
Spend time with the Aborigines
That she used to ride a motorbike
With a death wish
But now,

She can be Berneard Leech
Putty,
Soft clay in God’s hands.

She can sing with her
Paint
Blowing out notes with the brush
To rival a Dizzy Gillespie improvisation.

Closing her eyes to the world
And all that is therein
She will travel a pathway
To pioneer with her art.
The lonely journey
To look inside
To not hypothesise but to activate
And re-activate
The energy around her
Energy from a bustling gum-booted
Thea
While fulfilling mother’s pledge to a sure Eleanor.

Yet always,
She has energy to
Give to thers
To support others
When work with other art forms.

She is pioneering,
Not to a distant land
But in art
To find the spirituality that has been
lost;
She will pass through the open windos
And leave a handprint on this mortal
world

By June Perkins