X Can Do

Unable to do
he became able to do,
unable to do again,
able to do again
and unable to do again.
He was unpotentialized,
potentialized,
expotentialized,
repotentialized
and reexpotentialized.
Someone said it was the honey.

poem by Douglas Scotney
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Birth of Day

Babe is night
And mum is day.
Dawn is day's lullaby
To ease the sense of emptiness
Night gets at early light.
'Am I all that's left? '
Asks silhouetted palm.
'You're nothing if not right, '
Lullaby replies,
Comforting the night.

poem by Douglas Scotney
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Excess

shadowed by an earth
patient with its one idea,
competes with earth
to inspire the poet
with great and mysterious content.
The poet
has the one beating the other,
or the other the one,
or, with immortality in store,
fancies a draw.

poem by Douglas Scotney
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B: XII: Sadness In Success

The best of the other in the one.
The best of the one in the other.
Either in the one or the other,
the best of the other or the one.
The success that lies in sadness,
the sadness in success.
The honour and the love.
Best below, above.

poem by Douglas Scotney
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Aikiha

synthesis with enhancement
jactitation
distinction preservation

if they are shootin' at ya
you know that you are
doin' somethin' right, okay?

shhhh you acacia flowers
pride's before a mine
Scrub's your Street, not Wattle Drive

poem by Douglas Scotney
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The Duality of It All

Some sidestep the question,
Why it is we suffer.
They luxuriate in gain:
Eternality no matter
As it's inseparable from pain.

Others need the pain in question.
Suffering's their call.
There's no point in seeking more
As seekers after all.

poem by Douglas Scotney
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M: V: Trigger

One of those ones
Compelled to get up
Out of being a little crazy
Got up
And fearlessly spoke
Of the importance of everything
Down to the least
And the value of nothing
Up to the most
In the make-up of the play
Of the great things of our day.

poem by Douglas Scotney
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To the Past

Now that he has gone,
credit him for our boldness.
Forgive him for his failings-
he feared he wasn't right.

Let's hope a bolder future
will too forgive our failings,
credit how we shone
to give him greater boldness-
and fears he too is wrong.

poem by Douglas Scotney
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B: IIII: Hardenedarsiscism

Artists needing
Softer form of love,
Feel the call of gutter,
Turn away from fashion
Feeding on itself
Up on the highest shelf,
Peering over glasses
At concerns of other classes,
Out of reach and fitting
Only hardened arses.
Kindarsiscism
Calls

poem by Douglas Scotney
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B: XI: Pity the Dictator

Wanting what was 'grand',
he looked up 'connoisseur',
the 'universe',
'...to perfect the mind of man'.
He grew callous in his search:
'force',
'consanguinity',
'preposterous' and 'pompous'.
He hadn't understood
He really wanted 'good'.

poem by Douglas Scotney
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