OK, thanks to all those who sent in 1-2 word poem titles in the March 2008 poetry challenge. Many of you got your poem requests filled within minutes of sending. All of you had them filled within 24 hours. It was great fun for me and probably most particularly Kathy’s request for ’64’ and Chris’ for ‘Unicycling Ardvark’. I also included a memorium poem for my father in law Bob Samuel who died this March. Those of you wondering how to join in the poetry challenge, it is sent out to those on my mailing list which members have subscribed to via my website at http://www.donnawilliams.net (in the section titled ‘interactive’). So see you for the next one in April!

Warmly,

Donna Williams *)
author, artist, composer, screenwriter

ever the arty autie.

here’s the poems.

ROCK MUSIC by Donna Williams copyright March 2008.

Forward backward backward me
Rocking rocking musically
Lost in time and lost in space
A stranger in the human race

I own the rhythm, own the key
A world of one, a world of me
If I can’t wake, then watch me sleep
Your shallow world is not this deep

My eyes may stare but mind so Zen
has no use for the where the when
in chaos here is harmony
in a nutshell here’s the place to be.

ABSCOND, by Donna Williams, Copyright March 2008

I left my cage
my feathers, yellow
sat lifeless in the tray
My mirror dangling
My bell silent
My perch abandoned
Seed untouched.

To hell with your idea of comfort
Your cootchee coo side show
Oh, I used to dance for you
Fool that I was
I dance no more
For circus masters

I quit your normality
With it’s invisible bars
It’s pegged door
It’s defined expectations
Here is my resignation.
I abscond.

TIME ZONES by Donna Williams copyright March 2008

I’m in night and you’re in day
I’m in future, you’re in past
You’re just waking, I’m just slowing
It’s time to sleep and time to play.

On the email, through the ether
In our thoughts or on our phones
We have own own bizarreish time warps
In this thing they call Time Zones.

But somehow there’s another world
where time and place, they matter not
and difference is invisible
and our universe is but a dot.

FAILED GRADE by Donna Williams, Copyright March 2008

Oh look here comes the big parade
The egos on display
Achievement sits proud shoulder height
On this celebratory day.

We we the little folk applaud
The climbers of the ladders great
We know our place in the scheme of things
And speak not of our own failed grade.

But in another world there is
a parade of such a different type
where simplicity and beingness sing
and no-one gives a damn ’bout hype.

And ladder climbers sweep their floors
And hearts are used for seeing
And appearances mean so little here
Where achievements matter less than being.

AUTISTIC DANCER by Donna Williams, copyright March 2008

Spinning lightly on her toes
Fingers fluttered like Swan Lake
A gaze off with the angels stares
A captivating whirl of movement

See the sparkles in the air
She moves from foot to foot as if
About to launch from heights unknown
Across some void unseen

As music plays, a smile awakes
So slight, that Mona Lisa blushed
And body called itself to dance
To steps unchoreographed.

For Autism dances it’s own ballet
And personhood it’s partner there
The audience is the world at large
In awe, confusion, empathy, they stare.

The dance unfurls.

BEAUTIFUL DREAMER by Donna Williams, copyright March 2008.

High in the heavens a dark angel dreamed
of wars and of famine
of lies and of greed

And down on the earth, darkness crept o’er the land
And turned all the greenery to lifeless white sand.
And the vast icy oceans, they melted away
And the air choked with fumes and plants did decay

But high in the heavens someone else played a hand
dreaming diplomacy throughout the land,

dreaming that logic could reign once again
dreaming that enemies might just become friends

dreaming old habits could be just cast aside
dreaming humility might overcome pride

dreaming we could begin tearing down fences
dreaming life could be lived with less defences

dreaming that all life depends on each other
dreaming up kindness toward one another

dreaming that none would take more than they need
dreaming an end to the illness of greed

dreaming away quests for grass always greener
Hope rested on dreams of the Beautiful Dreamer.

64 by Donna Williams, copyright March 2008

Sixty four knocked at number sixteen
And was answered by thirty two right in between
Right then eight cycled through on a four wheeled thing
And two twittering birds landed out on the swing.
And the one overlooking these mundane little dramas
Was a baby asleep wearing Thomas pajamas.

PRECIOUS GIFT by Donna Williams, copyright 2008

Oh face, what has become of you
The me I knew, now lost behind folds and sags and wrinkles,
Is that me I see, there in that fading twinkle of an eye?
Or hallucination, we see what we want to see.

Oh mind, forget me not,
My thoughts now fibrous and intangible,
What was I thinking, oh well, not important.
Hide the trivia quiz, mind draws a blank.

Oh body, what I’d give for a good healthy bowel movement,
A blood sugar leveled,
A complexion untinged,
Those magazine models look tinny through dying eyes.

And objects, my witness to my world of yesterday,
My lack of tomorrow,
A mirror held up, reflecting my lack of immortality,
I’d possessed you, now I see, no, t’was you possessed me.

Oh friends, you are so quiet now,
Your powdered graveyard boxes so neat,
Each labeled in rows, in death’s supermarket,
I thought not to befriend the scary youth of today.

Time, I cannot hold your reigns,
Can’t slow you, speed you up,
You are your own God.
Invisible and never mine, you were above all

The most precious gift.

UNICYCLING ARDVARK by Donna Williams, copyright March 2008

As I was walking in the park
A uni-cycle-ing Ardvark
Did cross my path in deepest thought
‘Bout apple pie that he had bought
On sale at the Tesco store
And how he should have bought three more
And how he would have got one free
Then distracted, he crashed in a tree.

KITTEN CAT by Donna Williams, copyright March 2008

Kitten cat has found a thing
it’s long and moving,
is it string?
So round and round, pursuit gains pace
and captor now has won the chase
The paws have caught, the teeth won’t fail
but alas he only bit his tail.

IN MEMORY OF BOB SAMUEL 1925-2008

He’d pause to look at daffodils
And potted plants on window sills.
He’d read about all local histories
And indulge in any docu-mysteries.
Steam engines, ships, and any plane
would fascinate his fact-ish brain.
He knew of castles and of war,
and regailed these tales before he’d snore
in satiated sleepy state
as soon as he had cleared his plate.
So simple, honest, warm and kind,
He has left more than his crafts behind.
For though his works stand far and near,
There’s something so Bob t’will always be here.

If you have enjoyed the poems, you can find more in my poetry book, Not Just Anything , published by Jessica Kingsley Publishers.

Thanks for visiting.