the poet in me...

the poet in me confronting tempest's beauty #inspiration strikes #vss365 #haiku

— Gemma Wiseman (@gemma77.bsky.social) 25 March 2025 at 18:04

The poet in me constantly seeks to eke out the poetry even in unexpected subjects...

Nature's rage may spark fear, but also spins us into an awareness that only her power has beauty that demands respect.  She will not allow any form of human power over-ride her right to command. Sometimes, humanity needs to learn that lesson the hard way when Mother Nature lashes out with a return serve: when she feels threatened with human disrespect.

autumn wind's passion...

autumn wind's #passion revelling in bending trees and gifting dying leaves the fleeting joy of a dervish dance #tanka #vss365 #poetry

— Gemma Wiseman (@gemma77.bsky.social) 23 March 2025 at 17:43

Autumn trees dressed in autumn leaves seem ready for an autumn ball featuring wild colour...before time chimes the moment when those same leaves must return as the Cinderella of earth...And their trees sleep in long dreams... 

 

half a century...

half a century of flickering candle glows death by just one breath #haiku #micropoetry #poetrycommunity

— Gemma Wiseman (@gemma77.bsky.social) 23 March 2025 at 10:43

So much meaning in so few words...Read and think carefully...

Is the world combusting? Imploding? Or are social media's far reaching touch downs simply magnifying, verifying what has always been...at least in waves...over a long long time...

Hot spots are not just bubbling beneath the Earth's crust...
 

magic moonlight threads...

magic moonlight threads weave dark oceans to dark skies no vanishing point seamless silhouettes #indivisibility #vss365 #tanka

— Gemma Wiseman (@gemma77.bsky.social) 22 March 2025 at 22:50

The above photo was taken in 2015.

It is a view of Port Phillip Bay by night as from my home part way up Arthurs Seat.

It fascinates me how all sense of horizon and vanishing point visible by day simply becomes invisible.

The world becomes a sea of silhouettes.

Strangely, I find such a scene soothing for weary eyes.

 

spills from the cloud line...

spills from the cloud line a neon crash of thunder #radioactive splinters fracture the morning and crack the bones of naked streets #vss365 #tanka

— Gemma Wiseman (@gemma77.bsky.social) 21 March 2025 at 19:53

I feel the world is cautiously living in what feels like a global, radioactive state...

The innocent and the guilty are both prey to the entitled arrogance of blind greed...

I feel Mother Nature has plans for us...

was and still will be...

was and still will be the #sempiternal wise voice of William Shakespeare #vss365 #haiku

— Gemma Wiseman (@gemma77.bsky.social) 20 March 2025 at 20:23

today marks the end of your days...

today marks the end of your days that could have been our orchestra just waited and waited and waited expecting to be tuned soon but you broke your string #micropoetry

— Gemma Wiseman (@gemma77.bsky.social) 19 March 2025 at 11:11

Today, 6 years ago, my partner, riddled with cancer, passed on to other worlds...It sounds sad...but on the flip side, there was another story...many other stories...When I met him, he said he had cancer and could not work...he didn't have cancer...He lied constantly about his identity, his background...He stole money from my bank account regularly...by gambling online daily...(How did he get access?)... He liked to buy the groceries, and constantly they cost more...His children did not contact him except the eldest daughter on a couple of occasions...He was moody and would be enraged if I did not photograph him in poses he wanted...Other times, he was angry if I did photograph him...He would get especially angry if I questioned his statements of innocence and behaviour. We rarely went out together, and on the few times we did, suddenly he would wish to go to the toilet...We would have to go home because he refused to use a public toilet...Then sometimes, we would try the outing again...sometimes...

So, when he was dying, with real cancer...and I learnt more lies when his eldest daughter appeared, I had to make a decision...Still stay with him?  Or just leave?...His eldest daughter told me that she didn't blame me if I chose the latter...

I stayed with him...He really had no one...I stayed with him right to the moment he passed away...In fact, I was the one who called that he had passed...The nurse had only just turned her back after shaving his face...

So I remember this date with a strange kind of sadness...A man gifted with musical talent and imaginative ideas, totally wasting the life he was given...Often he said I gave him the only peace he had known in his life. That could be translated in so many ways. 

I am not sorry I stayed with him at the end...But I am sorry that I tolerated so much, for so long, knowing that something was not right...I guess I was determined to keep going...or was I stubborn...

Hopefully, I think I have learnt a lesson or two now...

The Bones Beneath #poem #poetry #writing

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— Gerhard ∞ (@oevermann.bsky.social) 15 March 2025 at 09:35