Short Telegraph Poems

"early Buggles"


the telephone killed the telegraph wire...

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Akin to tree
Elevated roots and connection

POTD 21st March 2023...

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Unexpected news 
Travel as a telegraph 
In ancient decades















6-23-2016...

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Like riding on the handle bars of a bike
                        with no brakes, going down Telegraph hill
                        in San Francisco,... during an earthquake…
                       ...With a flower in your hair…If you like....

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Telegraph poles
Derelict each in their own way
Watch the Forest creep around
Mountains watch them rot
Trains skitter past
The River pays no mind
Dragging their wires on the Ground
Useless
Many miss glass eyes
Many hang their arms
Some have fallen
None talk
No more dots and dashes...

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You see the sunlight amongst the scree
There was a man 
who couldn't tell me anything
Where there was once the comfort
of the evenings telegraph line
he runs wild amongst shops turned into flatlets
Keep on a straight line
he has changed his mind
where once basson roamed
he guesses himself unfree
fortitude follows the wind


...

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Your father was a rabbi
and for you religion was not a hobby.
Serious as business 
was a belief endevour

until you converted into Christianity,
as you were concerned with eternity.
Spiritual solace you gained
from Lord but hardly.

Telegraph with news was speedy
and you were a business man
involved with money
but never too greedy....

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The force, the pressure
To become something great
Is beginning to penetrate
Agitate my complacency & prepare for war.

I am a complex photograph
Telegraph a message & maybe I'll respond
Bless you with my awkward silence.

Forget the violins & pay attention to my sobbing
Robbing myself time & time again
Never knowing love
I find myself crippled, broken & undone....

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        An Andaree Form (Unrhymed)

Swaying to the swishing of an ice-cold wind
Wooden fingers belonging stout limbs
While Telegraph wires wail
Fear impending storm,
Wilful oak
Guards
Though naked
In winter’s shackles,
Rides in natures carousel
Where the end begins the beginning
Swaying to the swishing of an ice-cold wind.

© Harry J Horsman 2021...

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Resting on the water's edge
of a stone birdbath,
its orange feelers  curl 
outward  like tiny
 telegraph coils - transmit schisms 
I witness the microscopic
lapping  of an insect

Not a dragonfly
perhaps a wasp,
 abdomen pumping
like a heart beat between
 clear shining wings
 A seed falls, a flash of light 
 it  disappears upon a 
nearby twig leaving
reflections of ripples....

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- Underway
Batten down hatches,
Engine order telegraph...
Clangs full steam ahead.

- Crossing The Bar
Gray sky’s foreboding,
Waves crashing over the bow...
The steal womb shudders.

- Making Way
The days grow longer,
As gulls climb on the fresh breeze...
Betwixt and between.

- Arrival
Red, right, returning,
Tugs hasten our arrival...
Heaving lines are thrown.

...(fall, winter, spring, summer)...

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So I'll burst forth like a seismographic telegraph,
Churning forward verbs and nouns,
Begrudging the kind of adult looks you get
From people who are too scared to be honest.
The ones who yearn for the wild,
But are to rooted in the towing of the line.

To them I say: rip yourself out of your chair.
Breathe unknown air.
Lift your soul towards the simmering clouds
And feels how it is to burn yourself through 
In cool, slow tempos....

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