Bird Life

Perched upon an old wheelbarrow-
Scrutinizing Crow,
commentated long, on all he saw.
Feathered friends, who came to wallow,
splashing in the bird-bath hollow
disregarded Crow's bizarre guffaw.

'Are you starling, from the meadow'?
asked the puzzled crow.
'You fit the bill and yet I see a flaw'.
'Tail feathers, long and narrow,
sharp as swallow's twin-pronged arrow,
force me to admit, I'm quite unsure'.

'I'm the Swarling from the plateau',
bird replied, 'Hello'.
'My plumage is unique and furthermore'-
'Meet my friend, the warbling Starlow,
deft in flight as dancing shadow,
blessed with starling beak and swallow claw'.

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poem by Diane Hine
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Pectoral Sandpiper

Pacific vacationer flies north to nest,
parades on some high arctic shore.
Puffing his fine feathered, stippled grey breast,
persuasively seeking rapport.

Provided with radio tags which attest
perpetual day may ensure,
Pectoral Sandpiper's sleep is suppressed,
perhaps for a fortnight or more.

Perusing she sandpipers swoon for his chest,
percentages measure the score.
Pedigrees prove that deferment of rest
profusely enhances l'amour.

TANKA
How pleasant it is
to winter in sunny climes.
Holiday abroad.

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poem by Diane Hine
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Will and Elle (a villanelle)

'I don't believe in free will', ventured he,
debating philosophy themes widespread.
' I do', she countered, 'I'm wilfully free'.

'My genes and enviroment do for me',
tracing her forearm to see where it led.
'I don't believe in free will' ventured he.

'If that were the case, you'd just be a tree',
cutting his argument clinic'ly dead.
' I do', she countered, 'I'm wilfully free'.

'Yet quantum mechanics acts randomly',
(thinking- that gives me some Heisenberg cred) .
'I don't believe in free will', ventured he.

'Testosterone's clouding your wits, you see',
spouting some snippet she'd picked up in med.
'I do', she countered', 'I'm wilfully free'.

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poem by Diane Hine
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Assassin

I only hunt killers,
web weavers, trappers of innocents,
tormenters and destroyers,
my conscience is...nonexistent.

My instincts are attuned,
I'm hungry for this work- my missions,
as if by nature assigned,
incapable of contrition.

No disturbance,...no waves,
a slight presence, conservatively clothed.
I can fit in tight spaces,
take precise and painstaking steps.

Avoid warning tripwires,
my targets are so well protected.
I'm ultra-professional,
agility is essential.

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poem by Diane Hine
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Unanchored.

You adjust to the circumstances
and then they go and change on you
and you're all at sea again,
seasick with worry.

Keep reality at bay as best you can,
at bay- safe from pursuing hounds
in bay- safe from drowning waters.
So...let's play poetry.

L ay rules to follow firmly one by one
E quip with standard aids and tools of trade
T o squeeze from life a modicum of fun
S elect a game not previously played.
P lay fairly, cheating renders all a farce
L uxuriate in incremental gain
A crostically abridge the next impasse
Y et aim for pleasure, past the pools of pain.
P erhaps tomorrow hounds will catch the scent
O r overnight the mooring rope may slip

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poem by Diane Hine
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Circumstantial

Corella agitates and Redback spins.
Inspector Numbat eyes them with distrust.
Rosella whistles tunes and Dingo grins;
Companions round the billabong at dusk.
Unearthing plots and sifting dirt for clues,
Mendacious Emu's trouble-making trails,
Surveilling Wallaby's tracks and Kangaroo's,
The keen Inspector's always on their tails.
And Wombat's buried many past misdeeds.
'Not guilty', lies Koala, looking sweet.
The Inspector knows the only thing he needs
Is one last puzzle piece to make complete.
Although he's got the culprits nailed this time,
Lamentably, he's not yet found the crime.

SUSPICIOUS
Shy,
Unseen,
Spurs and silt,
Platypus glides.

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poem by Diane Hine
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A View

The narrow path towards Mt Toolbrunup
inclines through fragrant green enclosing wood.
He forged ahead, I kept up best I could.
A tumbled boulder slope leads ever up.

A wall of shale and quartzite borders right
and white mist tendrils slipped across its face.
I turned for one last gaze, as cool embrace
of cloud bathed all things near in pallid light.

The peak was wrapped in solitary peace.
We sat on massive thicket creviced slabs,
all patched with hard white crinkled lichen scabs,
in arbitrary mountain clime's caprice.

I lingered when he left for just a while,
a space to sample isolation's charms.
Then down the slick wet rocks ungainly style,
discreet descent on rear end, heels and palms.

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poem by Diane Hine
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Anthropomorphic.

Laced within entropic flow
arbitrary eddies swirl,
Fleeting fluctuating twirls
dissipating apropos.

Hidden in disorder's curls
reinforcing patterns grow,
Tiny hubs of order glow
seeds of life like inverse pearls.

Flora, Fauna deviate,
Movers must advance or shrink
leading to the conscious brink,
Feedback loops to calculate.

Vital self-awareness link,
Do they bait or are they bait?
Need to care about their fate,
Creatures start to think they think.

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poem by Diane Hine
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Finale

The great star Eta Carinae reclines,
spine scarce inclined from the galactic plane.
Polar axis ominously aligns
along a Milky Way star-studded vein.
If predictions hold, the star will implode
and explode with rare hypernova force.
A black hole will dwell where the core once glowed.
Poles, a double-barrelled gamma-ray source.
Good luck to any civilization
which lies in their atmosphere-strafing path.
May they escape the first conflagration
and far-reaching pumped X-ray aftermath.
Our galaxy hums with fun, thrills and strife,
the arbitrary adventures of Life!

ETA CARINAE
Eyes
Turn to
Argo's keel,
Carina's stars.

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poem by Diane Hine
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Ballade: Legacy

Within a stalk of fennel hid,
Prometheus took fire for
some poor ancestral hominid,
infuriating Zeus in lore.
Our forbears lived by nature's law
and myth to truth is paradox,
yet when they cooked their food from raw,
they travelled paths unorthodox.

Zeus fashioned clay in counterbid,
first woman, cursed with moral flaw.
Pandora batted sweet eyelid,
Prometheus refused, wherefore
Zeus chained him, while an eagle tore
his liver flayed upon the rocks.
When Titan sought mankind's rapport,
he travelled paths unorthodox.

Zeus gave a jar and then forbid,
Pandora look into it's maw.

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poem by Diane Hine
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