The Orinoco
Some mind pictures
Engraved, as cave dwellers ochre memories
Cold, oblivious to time or death
Unable to erase her light-filled bursting gaze
As she unfolds a new secret in the old woods
Scraping clean her wellingtons, encrusted with the morning mud
From releasing the little reservoir of spring water
Damned from its meandering to the lake, by dead Autumn debris
Pointing to the escaped leaves, swirling around the Canada geese
Gobbling up their caviar breakfast of jellied frogspawn
With an almost childlike beaming face, she declares
‘The Orinoco flows again !’
Harry Mills
Boracay Philippines 29th August 2012
In memory of Jo and Embercombe, Devon
From : The Departure Lounge
This is a blog of poems written by A H Mills, who currently lives on Boracay in the Philippines. Curated & uploaded by one of his daughters because, although he can email, he can't comprehend how to blog. Please leave any comments or suggestions you have here, I'll be sure to let my Dad know.
Monday, 11 February 2013
The Long White Wall
The Long White Wall
Another early morning gift, from above
The steady sun climbs up the cold long white wall, assured in its ascent
Dancing its shadows between the grateful sparrow’s spindle legs
That bob between their breakfast of boiled rice
Thrown onto the asbestos roof, hunched in clutches like kids snowballs
Quiet as sleep, except for a distant barking dog reaffirming its territory
This is the time I wait for the kettle to boil
Submerging the drowning tea bag that surfaces for air, its sepia stain
As pale as Irish bog tainted rain, swirls clockwise
The bald-headed sun now sits on top of the long white warming wall
Defiant, smiling down as a peeping ‘Kilroy wuz here ‘ linear cartoon
Harry Mills
Boracay Philippines : 26th August 2012
From : Departure Lounge
Another early morning gift, from above
The steady sun climbs up the cold long white wall, assured in its ascent
Dancing its shadows between the grateful sparrow’s spindle legs
That bob between their breakfast of boiled rice
Thrown onto the asbestos roof, hunched in clutches like kids snowballs
Quiet as sleep, except for a distant barking dog reaffirming its territory
This is the time I wait for the kettle to boil
Submerging the drowning tea bag that surfaces for air, its sepia stain
As pale as Irish bog tainted rain, swirls clockwise
The bald-headed sun now sits on top of the long white warming wall
Defiant, smiling down as a peeping ‘Kilroy wuz here ‘ linear cartoon
Harry Mills
Boracay Philippines : 26th August 2012
From : Departure Lounge
Another Day
Another Day
Today, a heart will stop beating
Cheating the joke that stopped the time
Another, surrendered to a God unseen
Green fields, snow on wall, frost in fall
Now, another’s life dream mystery begins
The black hearse purrs a last lament
The cradle sways into a new bright day
Harry Mills
Boracay Philippines 22nd August 2012
From : Departure Lounge
Today, a heart will stop beating
Cheating the joke that stopped the time
Another, surrendered to a God unseen
Green fields, snow on wall, frost in fall
Now, another’s life dream mystery begins
The black hearse purrs a last lament
The cradle sways into a new bright day
Harry Mills
Boracay Philippines 22nd August 2012
From : Departure Lounge
Extreme Unction
Extreme Unction
Watching the rain
Again? I’ve seen it before, watched the pouring gutter
Muttering to myself
Was it an Easter? Trying hard to remember her name
Before the afternoon pain
Down Daisy Nook, clawing squeaking grass, I took her
My first Original Sin
Not now very original, not that it now matters, scattered
Across the earth’s crust
Another ‘must’ to confess to priestly red ears of fearing
Excomunication
Without any explanation or re-direction from habitual lust
Harry Mills
Boracay Philippines 20th August 2012
From : Departure Lounge
Watching the rain
Again? I’ve seen it before, watched the pouring gutter
Muttering to myself
Was it an Easter? Trying hard to remember her name
Before the afternoon pain
Down Daisy Nook, clawing squeaking grass, I took her
My first Original Sin
Not now very original, not that it now matters, scattered
Across the earth’s crust
Another ‘must’ to confess to priestly red ears of fearing
Excomunication
Without any explanation or re-direction from habitual lust
Harry Mills
Boracay Philippines 20th August 2012
From : Departure Lounge
The Fridge
The Fridge
The cold cream and chrome
Fat boy, wedged in the kitchen corner
Like an outer belly groaning with edible crap
An open mouthed one-eyed beast for the feast
Of the inner belly, processing the absurd
Into shit-house blocking turds
Harry Mills
Boracay Philippines 22nd August 2012
From : Departure Lounge
The cold cream and chrome
Fat boy, wedged in the kitchen corner
Like an outer belly groaning with edible crap
An open mouthed one-eyed beast for the feast
Of the inner belly, processing the absurd
Into shit-house blocking turds
Harry Mills
Boracay Philippines 22nd August 2012
From : Departure Lounge
The Bridge
The Bridge
Silver fish dart like dancing spoons
Showing their brazen scaly bellies for her to see
Beneath the bohemian gaudily painted arched bridge
Of chrome yellow and flaking red
Leading to the bakery’s pungency of morning bread
Observing her watching the motions in the curling
Water’s sheen, as green as emerald ruffled silk, unfurling
Harry Mills
Apt A10 Bolabog Apartelle Boracay Philippines
20th August 2012
From : Departure Lounge
Silver fish dart like dancing spoons
Showing their brazen scaly bellies for her to see
Beneath the bohemian gaudily painted arched bridge
Of chrome yellow and flaking red
Leading to the bakery’s pungency of morning bread
Observing her watching the motions in the curling
Water’s sheen, as green as emerald ruffled silk, unfurling
Harry Mills
Apt A10 Bolabog Apartelle Boracay Philippines
20th August 2012
From : Departure Lounge
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