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Josh Roelink Poem
UNINTEGRATED YOU
Hello parts of you,
I can see you’re
Standing, wondering and
Pondering the use of limbs
That would caress and
Enclose or
Push away
And urge the many
To the fray
Where horses
Fire manes and
Whips
Lost in canyons
Of misty delusions
Turn in the dark and
Huddle together,
Waiting for a
Rider whose
Mind is set on
A path definitive.
Yet the froth on
The coats of
Tiresome colts
Say something else,
And look
To golden afternoon light,
Stop for a moment,
Breath all steamy and rising,
Before gambolling away
Into the early night,
Spirits unbridled and
Tempers alight.
Copyright © Josh Roelink | Year Posted 2014
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Josh Roelink Poem
THE STORMY DAY
Awoken by
Rumbling in the
Deep distance
Shallow waters subside and
Gliding across white wakes
Makes for the sanctuary,
A distant glimmer in the
Heart of the storm bird.
Building and gathering,
The mind on the shore
Busies itself and
Attempt numerous things
Without success.
The dark brooding hood
Brings fear and loathing
As struggling winds gather
To take the solitary man
Out to water.
What is he doing?
The rumblings fade
As silent glistening eyes
Peer out across the clear horizon.
Tears fall from a cluttered sky,
Having raised up
From this great lively mass.
Endless minute movements
Slowly carry the man
Out to sea.
Copyright © Josh Roelink | Year Posted 2014
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Josh Roelink Poem
I LOVE TO LOOK
I can appreciate beauty,
And I do every day.
It’s like breathing for me,
It’s my way to pray.
Is this something that’s ok?
To cherish the skin,
To honour outside
And not just within?
Once a trap, and now
Just a muse.
You came to me,
And now all others I refuse.
Beautiful women,
Keep on walking past me
I love to look,
But now I can see.
Copyright © Josh Roelink | Year Posted 2014
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Josh Roelink Poem
MORNING BONES
This bed,
This deep deep lake
Dredge my bones from
The murky depths
Where’s my head?
The diver reaches out
Through dark silted water
Finds something akin
To its former form
Assembles it on the edge
This is the way it would have been
The experts agree and walk away nonchalantly
They’ve seen it again and again
This is nothing new they say
He’s done it before, he’ll probably do it again.
The commissioner of these affairs
Thinks a major decision has to be made
But in the quiet of night
No light or reason
Can stop the unfathomable from occurring
He’s done it before and he’ll do it again,
Shadows playing late into the night and
The shell left in the morning light.
Copyright © Josh Roelink | Year Posted 2014
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