Rhyming 

Nothing rhymes with orange
Or, so it is said
But what about strange?

Could be a problem with fruit
Things that maybe
It is difficult to suit. 

How about lemon?
I think only if
You come from Yemen. 

But easy it is to rhyme with pear 
And nobody it is likely 
Will at you stare. 

Or even the common apple
As on your face
The light through the leaves does dapple. 

And then there is tangerine 
A tangy fruit
That is not often seen. 

And so it does go
Depending on how many fruits 
That one does know. 

Brian Matthews 6-12-23

Farewell 

Splayed on the ground
The galah on its back 
Covered in little black ants. 

No more will it soar
Through the blue skies
Tethered as it is to the soil. 

And so it goes in life
Too brief a time in the light
Before the dark rolls in. 

Those pink and gray feathers 
Lifting its body into the heavens
Until the living thread is cut. 

Did it have a partner?
Left bereft by the loss
Children now fully grown. 

The cycle of life continues 
Without the death of a generation 
There is no space for the next. 

Go in peace beautiful bird
Your job on Earth now complete 
Your spirit free to join the ether. 

Brian Matthews 8-12-23

Sitting with a different view 

Sitting with a different view
Thousands of twinkling lights 
One of them an incoming jet. 

A very quiet night
The gums outside reaching 
For life I suppose. 

No noise from the kids
Or did I just hear the sounds
Movement for sure. 

It isn’t late but still
I’ll probably go to bed
After sitting with a different view. 

Brian Matthews 1-12-23

Old Poems

To find old poems
Read them through 
Recalling some of the context
But only rarely a clear recollection. 

Emotions are stirred
Nerves appear to jangle
The power of just a few words
Written when I was a different person. 

For change and evolve we do
Working through our dramas
Taking steps forward 
And often slipping back. 

 Brian Matthews 26/11/19

I found this in a notebook in my drawer 1/12/23
So many scribblings, many lost over the years 
and yet, occasionally, they re-emerge 😀

Unintentional Pain

Happiness is taken
So easily from another
The will of one imposed
The other left feeling
Minimised, unknown, irrelevant. 

A type of intimidation
By stealth achieved
The face reasonable
But feelings left hurt
It being your problem. 

A thing you like , modified
To meet not your will
Shaped and changed
Turned into not you
A very pale reflection. 

Fitting what they like
Afraid to confront this
For fear of hurting them
Challenging patterns unintentional
Learned so very, very young. 

One can have such wisdom
And yet to things be blind
No easy thing to confront
When deep love in the mix
No clear way to fix. 

Usually writing words
Helps me find a path
Confronting this seems too hard
Attacking core beliefs
Destroying self esteem. 

I’ll sit with it a while
Until the knowing comes
Fearful and uncertain
Of what this really means
Where this takes my dreams

Brian Matthews 28-6-2020

I found this amongst my poems on Dropbox. 
I’ve tried to recall the context, but can’t. 
I find it haunting. Maybe it’ll come back to me. 

Hobbies

Pottering in the garden
Is such a joy,
Tie up tomato bushes and pull weeds,
What more could I want?

I wonder what it might be
That brings this feeling?
The sky above and dirt on the hands,
The birds sing in anticipation. 

This is definitely not for all,
We are a diverse bunch,
But for many this type of toil
Is rarely an impost.

Hobbies are so meaningful in life,
Though some have none,
When life is full of work,
But few escape family obligations.

Interests do the day fill,
And that is important.
‘The Devil makes work for idle hands’,
Says the Calvinistic mantra.

Is physical activity more important
Than our thinking and discussion?
Each play a part in living,
How we each divide our time is unique.

Balance in life is needed,
As I am reminded when lingering too long,
Amongst the smells and sensations outside,
Yes, wear thin it would if hobbies were all. 

Brian Matthews 6/1/2020

I found a couple of close iterations of this 
but I think I’ll stick with this one. 

Time to reflect

When sitting at the computer,
Waiting for the utility program to complete,
Can seem like such a waste,
Stressing that tasks yet to do are undone.

But as with being placed on hold,
While phoning a company for advice,
This time can be useful,
Thinking, reflecting, writing, reading.

We do become so bothered,
By things for which we wait.
Time is there though for us to use,
In ways we may not otherwise.

What is it that we rush to do,
When we know all cannot be done?
How easy it is for priorities to slip
Below everyday trivia and concerns.

Embrace the moment for what it is,
An opportunity not yet experienced,
For exploration of self and others,
A lifetime of little things with meaning.

Brian Matthews 3/9/19

I do recall writing this. I had been running a program on my old computer to clean it up. Ultimately, it crashed and had to get a new one but I remembered reading a comment from someone who was asked how they managed to read so many books and they said that they read whenever they were on hold on the phone. 

The Mask Slips

We are all damaged goods
The twists and turns of life
Leaving gnarls and scratches. 

Those who love us ignoring these 
Content to see the shiny bits
That glow through the haze. 

But, at times, all we notice
Are all the imperfections 
The bumps and the lumps. 

But there is so much more
To each and every one of us
Little sparkles flashing here and there. 

And you I know for sure
Have a big heart and soul
Depth below the facade. 

A mask everyone wears
To hide the fragile bits
To show that we are coping. 

Sometimes it will slip
When we are overwhelmed 
Those who love us are always there. 

Remember when the clouds descend
You provide something 
That can be found nowhere else. 

Brian Matthews 1-12-23

The Wind Down

The holiday here winds down
A range of weather 
The wind bringing many a frown. 

Some sights for all to see
And tours, of course,
If that’s where you want to be. 

Many oysters eaten with gusto
Natural, Asian Fusion, Japanese 
All available, such elegant chow. 

Catching up with dear friends 
Old and very new
Ensures that the fun extends

But, best of all, I think
Sitting reading, walking the dogs
Leaves me well in the pink. 

Brian Matthews 13-11-23

A little cutie 
On his back legs in the air -
Bliss it seems to me

Brian Matthews 13-11-23

Basil, one of our dogs (almost 9 years old, French Bulldog cross Cavalier Spaniel) does look so cute when he rolls on his back to scratch, little legs kicking in the air 😀

A Weekend Away

The park fills up
The weekend imminent 
Time for families. 

Young children circle
On cycles and scooters 
Little ones on balance bikes. 

Chatter fills the air
Excited for the weekend ahead
Laughter and squeals abound.  

Splashing in the pool
Such fun ahead 
The sun slowly setting. 

Ah, to have such energy again
Such zest for life
And the wheel slowly turns. 

Brian Matthews 17-11-23

And this marks the Special Day

Sam’s 40

A pleasant November day
Sun shining, a gentle breeze
You would have been 40 today. 

Earlier the tears welled
A childhood photo on Facebook 
Posted when you turned 30. 

These ‘memories’ pop up
But usually not so heart wrenching 
Such a beautiful little boy. 

Grown into a handsome man
Loved by all you are Sam
And that will never change. 

In your too short life
You taught many lessons 
To your students, families and friends. 

The ripples you caused
Have turned into waves for many
And we still ride these crests. 

A poorer world it would have been 
Without your gentle presence 
Without your unique laughter. 

So many miss you
So many love you
You live on in our hearts. 

Brian Matthews 21-11-23

We need no critics 
Our inner self full of these -
Ready to launch forth.

Brian Matthews 8-11-23

Prompted by a FB post on the topic of self forgiveness 

Melbourne Cup Day

A quiet day at the cafe
Probably a Melbourne Cup effect 
So many at Clubs or Pubs
Wearing silly hats, I bet. 

Doesn’t have the following it had 
A national institution in years gone by
But times change and things move on
What was important now gives no high. 

A country changing for sure
More diversity than ever before 
And still old habits live on
Nurtured as if they are core. 

What the future holds is never clear
Demographics shift with every year
But one thing can be said again 
Love of country will remain. 

Brian Matthews 7-11-23

Another fine day
At this place called Coffin Bay -
Oysters for lunch? Yes!

Brian Matthews 7-11-23

A chopper above
An expensive tourist treat -
Worth the view, maybe 

Brian Matthews 7-11-23

And the poem revisited is one I wrote for my son Sam’s 37th birthday before we knew of his cancer. An undertone is of regretting the distance between us as a result of growing older – ironic, I thought, when I was soon to lose him completely.

It is revisited because there was a line that didn’t make sense – probably an autocorrect thing:

Sam’s 37

The birthday of a son,
No longer a child
And not so for many years,
Brings cause to pause
Reflect on what he’s become. 

A husband and father
Of two chips off the block
As are all little ones
Drawing on genetic memory
Aided by the experiences they gather. 

The curiosity of the child
Morphing into enthusiasm of youth
Facing the challenges of the day
Exploring and contributing 
Soon leaving behind the wild. 

A child never leaves the heart
Of a parent invested in
The happiness of their offspring 
Knowing not what the future brings
But sure that you will be apart. 

Life cannot be lived through children 
Or grandchildren for a fact
Evolve and develop they surely will
Moving in directions unseen 
With motivation from you hidden. 

Not because they rail against you,
Though that can be a thing
But more because they need agency,
Different hills and valleys to explore,
So they can have their novel view. 

Brian Matthews 
21/11/2020

So, yesterday drove from Port Broughton to Coffin Bay (5 and a half hours). Someone had told us about the wildlife in the Caravan Park but still surprised by the number of Roos in the evening and emus here and there plus a plethora of bird life and much bigger flocks of galahs than we get on the Fleurieu (no corellas here it seems). The galahs prompted this Haiku:

The galahs all cheep 
Such talkative little guys - 
Saying we are here!

Brian Matthews 5-11-23

So today and yesterday, I penned a few more.

Firstly, a couple of Haiku

The Crested Pigeons

The crested pigeons
Strutting here for all to see -
Always, one left  out

Brian Matthews, 1-11-23

The Little Dog

The little dog rests
Waiting to show all his best -
Oh, off he goes now!

Brian Matthews, 2-11-23

And then an ode to the little seaside village we are staying in:

Ups and Downs

Port Broughton, such a pleasant place
Bird calls and children laughing 
The sun is shining and the air is clear 
The only down side, too much wind. 

Though now it is not unpleasant 
Blowing but not gusting much,
Ah well, keeps the flies away
And so it always goes. 

Each venue has its strengths 
But nowhere has it all
And one positive may just mean
That another negative emerges. 

Perfection may be sought 
But reality always intrudes
And generally this we accept 
Though memory may blur the unwanted. 

Brian Matthews, 1-11-23

I read the word ‘perspicacious’ in a novel and thought how relevant this word is to Barbara, my wife – captures her essence

Perspicacious

Perspicacious, a word that so describes you
The way you see the world 
Insights leaping forth
Ideas unfolding zestfully. 

A canniness that’s unusual 
Astute perceptions of the terrain
Sharp-witted beyond the norm 
Perceiving patterns usually unseen. 

Brian Matthews, 2-11-23