Black Parrot Poetry & Prose | Other
Black Parrot Poetry & Prose
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23.01.2022 Excerpt from 'The Way The Rain Falls' T.C. 25.4.2019 'Especially when the rain comes, the road becomes a river; rustling through and soaking deep, into and over the roots of grasses to the tussock along the edges with heavily hanging heads that drape like waterfalls. The water flows on, following four-legged tracks embedded around our feet, drifting and dribbling into hollows, forming waterholes for minute creatures. Nearby a wallaby shakes and shivers...'
21.01.2022 Pome...yet another.
16.01.2022 'The Interview' T.CaryJune 1986. I'm late.... I'm late. Without a watch it's hard to tell. Only prissy prints on the walls. No clock. I'm late. Something to grab. Something to read. Something to pretend to read. Relax! They're there...two of them Watching me pretend to read. I'm into everything; Travel; current affairs; National Geographic, And, I sit right. Confident, interested...cool. She comes I feel the draught of her power. I look up, surprised, grinning, No longer cool. She jingles silver imported elegance. She smells, French parfum. I snub my fifty-dollar shoes My yelling blue tights My peeling second-hand leather handbag. We exchange my name. What is it again? I follow. The two watch my tights following as they constantly turn. A door shuts. I perch on their chair. The Act begins. And it ends with the clatter of my cheap metal heels Colliding with their marble white stairs Of escape. ******************
14.01.2022 Life ‘becomes’ (for Sue) There’s a time when the heart is moulded to moribund; when days become a dream; when joy becomes misanthropic.... There’s a time when skin prickles with temperance and life becomes silent; circumspect; wry; a billow of dust or a vacuum or a vagueness - or of savage limitation. Then there’s a time when the heart bursts to inception; when dusk becomes daybreak; when trepidation becomes courage. And a time when skin tingles with the craving for life; Life becomes uproar; rash, or inspiring; a hurricane of rapture and substantial achievement - or the gentle infinite power of purpose. There’s the ending of time when life ‘becomes’; forever held in reverence, It flows as a river and binds us all with a benevolent belonging. T.Cary(copyright2019)
14.01.2022 'How he longs for the woman who was' T.Cary2016 The woman whose face he sees by the door with a light in her eyes that is no more; she snarls like a cat with cautious despair... she growls in her heart; she scowls at the air. With each petal he offers, her hands pluck away, leaving him nought by the dying of day; And he cannot recall the day that he drowned when, with but her whisper, he dropped to the ground. Her rage came like a thief and entered his life; it stalked his steps; it stole his wife... how he longs for the woman that was. See more
12.01.2022 "PLEASE LISTEN" T.Cary (copyright2018) Yesterday you spoke to us... and we answered, and your storm drowned out our reply. You were loud and brash and roaring. You surged, crashed and thundered. There were pieces of our words left in gutters. There were verbs and nouns in downpipes. There was sadness dripping from clouds. There were tears left floating in air. Today again you spoke and we explained, But your agenda drowned out our reply. You were insistent, arrogant and demanding, self-important; condemning; cold. There were symphonies of your ego on media. There were lies and smirks on your faces. There was hatred igniting your braincells. There was relentless waste of our time. Yesterday you spoke but you heard nothing. ''
11.01.2022 Chant of the Snowy River (Copyright-T.Cary2020) We are bound by many chains upon this river as cold and elusive, it tumbles away... etched by the granite and the snow and the effort of cross-cultural dreams and meaningful purpose. We stride by its side; encircle its wanderings. We watch its ebb and seek its flow. We cry for its losses. We suffer its tortures. It binds us and finds us where the birds and herds go. Time and time over the river will tie us to numinous legends that stir deep the psyche inspiring word palettes that conceptualise ‘soul’ it engages us always to live and to grow. We take what we can; its pliancy; its persistence. We blend with its turnings; its forks and its falls. We dance to the music of her life-giving juices. It binds us and finds us; it comforts; it calls
09.01.2022 'Swirling in the Silence' t.c. 13/7/20 This is why I came here; This is why I came... To the hills and mountain sides Where the ice meets my fiery heart; Where the stone sky transforms to sapphire And the days are numbered by the seasons. Tomorrow ceases to exist in the tracery of my footsteps And in this symphony of snowflakes, fate entwines With miracle. This is why I came here; It's all swirling in the silence of the synergy. ***************
06.01.2022 'For Susan' So long to the long-lost days of our youth; To the swings on the bars; to the seesaw in darkness. So long to our journeys in our various transports; to the many lifts of life and the multitude of skillfully chosen steps.... So long to the tantalising roles we did play and the belief in our own pronounced significance. To the deep abiding solace of temporaneous thought - so long. For here comes the inevitable mystery of endings, veiled in its vast black billow of curtain. The shutting of the door; the opening of the window. The endless hollow rooms of smoke and mirror. Final exit stage right. So long... 28.3.19 TC
06.01.2022 Chant of the Snowy River (Copyright-T.Cary2020) We are bound by many chains upon this river as cold and elusive, it tumbles away... etched by the granite and the snow and the effort of cross-cultural dreams and meaningful purpose. We stride by its side; encircle its wanderings. We watch its ebb and seek its flow. We cry for its losses. We suffer its tortures. It binds us and finds us where the birds and herds go. Time and time over the river will tie us to numinous legends that stir deep the psyche inspiring word palettes that conceptualise ‘soul’ it engages us always to live and to grow. We take what we can; its pliancy; its persistence. We blend with its turnings; its forks and its falls. We dance to the music of her life-giving juices. It binds us and finds us; it comforts; it calls
06.01.2022 'Talk of War' ToniCary
03.01.2022 ToniCary 'Softly softly, fall the tears of Whirlpool Years' All the sea is raging Foam drips with seashells... Sand against brick and mortar. The year of the Whirlpool has begun Riot walls the sun. Our cries drown the beat of stamping feet From fear, there's no retreat. Our cry is perpetual - 'give us air, lest suffocation' Dark hangs the trees shared by birds that cannot fly Their wings have retracted lest they meet with a building. Solitude lives within the soul of the crowd It's become our way of life. Misrepresentation makes us blind. Liars lead our lives; Our houses grow bleak in the streets that glow with crimson. Softly softly, fall the tears of Whirlpool Years. Dissatisfaction and disorder. 2008
01.01.2022 2020....The Year of the Whirlpool.....it has begun.
