Lesson
A couple chance the perils of a dance
The music strains, a vapid underture,
Assuming, hesitant, required stance
they make a start, one late, one premature.
Eight limbs, set underall and overneath
in underbalance, tripping overfoot,
He ties his lace, she smooths her rumpled sheath
their steps are incoordinately put.
But underbearing knees, and understeps
her chasses to the left, his to the right,
Their understrung and aching quadriceps
deliver overstanding undernight.
To overcurrents, undercome by fun
‘for[e] dawn's ‘unruly sun' they dance as one.
poem by Diane Hine
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Omega
Are you a prisoner, are you my love
Are your bars metal or mentally wrought
Shadowed forever by grief's cloud above
Poverty, illness or negative thought.
Do you regret that your brain is confined
Captive for life in the bones of your skull
Speech offers limited sharing of mind
Would you think unification less dull?
Yet, every single is already two
Right and left hemispheres, one lonely sphere
Poor company, since they share the same view
Better that souls be divided yet near.
Consciousness parted can know and be known
Coalesced, Mind would be wholly alone.
poem by Diane Hine
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Sister Planet
An ocean flowed on Venus eons past
Before a body blow reversed her spin
And now alas, unlike her earthly twin
Her waters to the heavens have been cast.
Tectonic plates, unoiled, locking fast
And no sure passage frees the heat within
The skin and core are thermally akin
No dynamo protects from cosmic blast.
And lighter gas is swept away by rays
Ten miles deep, from pole to pole she's wrapped
In densest greenhouse gas, her body steeps.
Each blistered night, a hundred plus earth days
In Vulcan's ashy forge forever trapped
And with sulphuric acid tears she weeps.
poem by Diane Hine
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Equidae
In a forest, laurel-greened
as Eocene Elysium,
neither shackled or demeaned
dwelt Hyracotherium.
Thirty million years passed
and scion Merychippus
grazed unbounded plains of grass,
Miocene terra nullius.
Twenty million years passed
and human hocus-pocus
enslaved to a servile caste
descendent Equus Caballus.
Zebras flaunting black and white
defy the upstart midgets,
Equus Burchelli in full flight
flipping their middle digits.
[...] Read more
poem by Diane Hine
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Grey
The diner nibbles biscuit
because a stealthy misfit
has finished off the brisket and the pie.
His methods are erratic
and crumbs bedaub his jacket
unheeded by his static glassy eyes.
Upon his thin long fingers
a whiff of Cheddar lingers.
The end of a malingerer is nigh.
His ears are pricked for whispers.
A presage stills his whiskers
before tight sprung ballistic metal flies.
The silence is emphatic.
The stillness is dramatic
to underscore a tragic mouse demise.
[...] Read more
poem by Diane Hine
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Clouds
Under altostratus clouds
on sandy bed recline,
Captive to the daylight's shrouds
frayed fractus underline.
Fine white ladies knuckles point
through gloves of blue grey gauze,
Choir of bass, far-flung, disjoint
resound with faint applause.
Altocumulus adorn
a northerly pelisse,
Freshly shorn, flayed and torn
the virgin side of fleece.
Air that's sated, drenched, replete
annoints with teardropp plash,
Daughter claimed by kiss on feet
then hand, then cheek, then lash.
[...] Read more
poem by Diane Hine
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Ephemeral Bloom (Acrostic Sonnet)
E ach day in cotton gloves, the artist worked
P erfecting gorgeous flowers made of silk
H armoniously hued and ever perked
E ternal, unlike fresh ones of their ilk
M eandering back home 'midst evening gloom
E ncounters in a sad neglected park
R etiring, non-attention seeking bloom
A nd feels a stirring of compassion spark
L ets dropp her wooly mitt and stoops to touch
B eneath the leaves, dropped petals slowly fade
L amenting tarnished loveliness nonesuch
O bliquely for a moment two lives braid
O ff hand there is no purpose for a glove
M ortality is tantamount to love.
poem by Diane Hine
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A Waltz
Our foxtrot wasn't good, but then again,
it wasn't bad before, alas, my heel
impaired that poor man's shin and yet I feel
that you were leading rather well ‘till then.
The Samba tempo's captivating thrall
seduced us to abandon Earthly care.
Our spirals had finesse and to be fair,
we only once collided with the wall.
And when I fell, I know you did not gloat,
that was instead, a sympathetic grin.
I swear, it was an accidental spin
which sadly brought my elbow to your throat.
And last, I lightly spun in blissful trance,
a waltz, goodnight and thank you for the dance.
poem by Diane Hine
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Sonnet 2: Mortal (Petrarchan)
The garden state of Eden soon proved stale
to plucky and inquisitive young Eve
So she decided she would rather leave
than have that boring status-quo prevail.
Now ever since we mope, be-moan and rail,
throw up our hands, tear out our hair and grieve
Pray fervently that there may be reprieve
from naughty-Eve inflicted mortal jail.
But may I say a word in her defence-
How could immortal life hold any charm,
when every game we play derives it's sense
from striving 'gainst the impetus of harm.
There could not be a purpose more intense
than racing to elude death's shrill alarm.
poem by Diane Hine
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Theory
Some vital aspect split our primate past
and heralded the rise of modern man,
The experts scan the intervening span
to pinpoint where exact the dice were cast.
An upright stance gave scope of spaces vast
and language lent ability to plan,
With strong-thumbed hands the use of tools began
and progress surged with fire's inflaming blast.
Yet these and more are surplus to our breed,
a single human feature formed our shape,
Dissatisfaction blazed us to the lead
and from a savage world we made escape.
Genetic restlessness and need did seed
triumphant man; The Discontented Ape.
poem by Diane Hine
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