A Call to Listen

shattered

colleen Poetry , ,

shattered

(crisis of faith)

(i)
in the morning light a thousand prisms
reveal colours never seen
a comet strikes the day
shattered glass barrier broken
exposed and vulnerable
empty space leaves nowhere to stand

(ii)
the distant spire
pierces a retiring blue sky
bells scatter the air into notes
childhood faith shattered
the crud of doubt reframes the vision
elusive as the horizon

(iii)
betrayal brands its mark
burns on flesh
illusion sears to truth
the wound in its rawness aches
and journey back to self
treads on emptiness

the space between

colleen Poetry , , , , ,

The name of the poetry book is taken from the idea of this poem. This poem was inspired by a visit to the National Portrait Gallery in Canberra where portraits of my two favourite women poets were hanging by each other. I do not have pictures of the actual portraits. The following ones are pictures I like of them.

Oodgeroo-Noonuccal-narrow (1)

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the space between

two women poets
hang side by side
in the portrait gallery

contained now

the space between
has its story
of times around the kitchen table
when these two women
saw other ways of being

words their weapon
justice their spirited charge
to break the wall of apathy
lift us beyond its rubble
give us new possibilites

oodgeroo noonuccal white-washed as kath walker
with sombre dark eyes and black skin

she anchored herself in hope
survived its instability
and kept it alive

judith walker social conscience
soft wrinkled sun-dried face in wide brimmed hat

a peace warrior she raged at injustice
her words a cry
against ignorance and greed
together they gaze out
calling us to listen

(Oodgeroo Noonuccal 1920-1993 and Judith Wright 1915-2000
poets, activists and friends)

zen moments

colleen Poetry , , , , , ,

Zen is a way of being and can be seen as  a state of mind.  I think for Blake it is seeing ‘the world in a grain of sand,  and a heaven in a wildflower’.  For Eliot it could be ‘at the still point of a  turning world.’   For Frost’s ‘Two Roads’   it is taking the one less travelled’  For Michael  he suggests it is the moment at the bottom of the driveway when he is out and  on  his morning walk.

My zen moment  this day was watching a single tawny leaf on its journey.  And all I could do was breathe out slowly . I felt a sense of everything and nothing.  It could be like my heart and gut just connected very satisfyingly. And so I wrote. . .

 

 

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zen moment

a tawny leaf

clothed
nourished
the tree

lived its time
served its purpose

takes its leave
surrenders

falls

how gently
falling
falling
its fluttered spin
air-cushioned down

received
lightly
silently
by the earth

Colleen Keating

 

leaf

Photo taken by Elizabeth Keating-Jones

The Smell of Parsley

colleen General , , , ,

This is the fourth section of my Poetry Anthology.  This was the intended name of the book of poetry originally, before the decision was made for the more apt  title:

A Call to Listen.

The Smell of Parsley comes from a quote in the the play Under Milkwood by the poet Dylan Thomas. The blind Captain Cat dreams  of the  drowned sailors from the swamped S.S. Kidwelly and from the after-life the first sailor asks  him loudly and rather whimsically  ‘What’s  the smell of  parsley?  The message I got from this . . . take time to enjoy the senses here on earth for when we die we could miss them.  In Wilder’s play Our Town the  dead character Emily is asked what she misses about life the most , and she answers “I miss the smell of parsely”  Hence The Smell Of Parsely seemed an appropriate title for this section of the book which deals with  the senses including autumn and winter and jacarandas and moments in the garden. Enjoy the next  9 poems.