Bora born
Sensing murder _
Doors open, she enters gowned in a silk flow
of colour, lost spirit shades loiter behind.
A womens' crowd of onlookers responds in
seated applause, uncertain expectations
mirror in some way the price of admission.
Sue channels dead people for those in distress
a suicide theme to settle on the crowd.
And so it goes in this gathering of one
hundred women with six true blue males in hand
a visual metaphor if ever was one.
Deadly shades, the third suicide self serves out
indulgence in spades on a girl's wretched grief.
His shadow world of desires knows no bounds
forayed through a medium's gifted sensory
touch, never let go of since a child of four.
Cries render voice steeped in emotional pain
life's unripe fruit ready to fall from the tree.
His sensory bankrupt world invites her down
spirals of thought, a slippery slope into an
open pit, the black dog nipping at her heels.
The medium performs a subtle slow dance
in stage craft, to nip the bud to smell the rose.
Don't follow them into netherworlds of
ultimate falls from grace, those woulda, coulda
shoulda worlds of spirit broth stuck inside dreams.
- O -
© 29th mar 2016 _ Nhawrr yirrpa
Author's notes and media are here.
of colour, lost spirit shades loiter behind.
A womens' crowd of onlookers responds in
seated applause, uncertain expectations
mirror in some way the price of admission.
Sue channels dead people for those in distress
a suicide theme to settle on the crowd.
And so it goes in this gathering of one
hundred women with six true blue males in hand
a visual metaphor if ever was one.
Deadly shades, the third suicide self serves out
indulgence in spades on a girl's wretched grief.
His shadow world of desires knows no bounds
forayed through a medium's gifted sensory
touch, never let go of since a child of four.
Cries render voice steeped in emotional pain
life's unripe fruit ready to fall from the tree.
His sensory bankrupt world invites her down
spirals of thought, a slippery slope into an
open pit, the black dog nipping at her heels.
The medium performs a subtle slow dance
in stage craft, to nip the bud to smell the rose.
Don't follow them into netherworlds of
ultimate falls from grace, those woulda, coulda
shoulda worlds of spirit broth stuck inside dreams.
- O -
© 29th mar 2016 _ Nhawrr yirrpa
Author's notes and media are here.
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Sensing murder _
Sensing murder _
