Check this out! Highly Commended in the Ipswich Poetry Feast and Winner of the Edwards Property Mentorship Award:



http://www.ipswichpoetryfeast.com.au/2011/winnerslocal_3.htm#hc2

(if only this could form into a hyperlink- stupid Blogspot)

a grudge
finally broken--
the ocean turns from grey to blue

Bushwalk Haiku

Oh, what the hey, it was fun posting that last... post. So, why not, i'll share some more. Recently I went bushwalking with my very good friend, Glenn (teacher & poet also) and had an absolute blast of a time. Here's some haiku of the trip:


bush fly
the distant humming
of the highway


lookout point
we share
its silence


driving for miles
we vent
our road rage


broken twig
how quick
this wild peacock


a new shrub
every kilometer
a memory

Depression

A crow appeared out of the cloaks

of night in my dream

and it preyed off my dark thoughts.

Ready for the kill,

staring into my face ivory

like the ghost of all the martyred dead,

and I…

I hang on for dear life.

The Adamant Rants Of A Teenager

*As heard in the library

I am not going to the family reunion!

I want to stay at home and play games!

I have an appointment with other friends online!

You cannot organise something without me knowing!

I have plans!

"Hahaha so funny"

among mists of incense burning--

grandma's smile

so distinct

insects rise up

from the pasture

autumn moon

Bushwalk Haiku

just you and I mosquito

sharing last night's Vodka

• 
  

it winks--

sun behind

rustling leaves

• 
  

in front of hills bending--

a thousand trees

and I looking

• 
  

distant creek--

a strange edible plant

perhaps

• 
  

bush walk--

slushes of the water bottle

steady, then gone

• 
  

rising

on the path home

the same grass

• 
  

only birdsong

only trees

strategically taking a piss

• 
  

autumn river

this time

my heart floods

Petrichor

Petrichor (PET-ri-kuhr) noun

The pleasant smell that accompanies the first rain after a dry spell

From Greek petros- (stone) + ichor (the fluid that is supposed to flow in the veins of the Gods in Greek mythology)

lull

of the

first rain

after a dry

spell procures

a suspense like

no other its silence

calms the exhaustion of

hysterical trees shrugging

off draught its scent lingers

between blackberry lanes that

bear their chests to the drizzle

its arrival breathes most sweet

lullabies of Gaia... a gushing

finger to her thirsty lips:

hush now sleep...

shhhh

New Farm Park Haiku

http://anotherlostshark.com/2011/04/19/new-farm-park-ginko-lee-anne-davie-vuong-pham/

Work Life Could Be Worse

life could be worse is all I can say

when you come and complain

to me about that nasty

person at work

next time

think

of

being

stuck in

some cockpit of

a spaceship whereby

there is no gravity or coffee

only a monkey and shit like that

Strange Trees

what

extreme

solitude as

we listen to

the deepening

quiet of the very

trees themselves

talk in corrugated

sunlight voices that

leaves stitch maybe

I am mad for the voices

and oozing saps beckon me

from the silence of the park

bench urging me to walk on

fields of water where the

rising river touches fossil

logs shifting back to a

time where trees

sung before

metals or

money

for I

hear

voices

hum

from

growth

rings of

ancients

as I follow

a summer sun

until it arched over

continents and seas as I

stared until she turned her eyes away

Writer's Block

look

through

books of past

poets before my

twentieth century time

now at modern times as a

writer lesser that of a street

fighter cos at my age back then

I would have worked in a factory

by now selling goods to my enemies

of a nation that prided itself on patriotism

but switch back to a time where more

mental conditions are prevalent

my mind hides the word as I

continue to engage in play

of hide and seek that

word but shit I

had lost my

thoughts

now

New Farm Park Haiku

extreme solitude

listening to

trees talking

• 
  

silly roses

just forgive

the annoying bees

• 
  

the river has glistened

long enough

for the summer house windows

• 
  

must be growing old--

polite chatter

at the wedding party

• 
  

park bench

if only you could see

what I see

• 
  

ripening fruit

forgive me

I took your virginity

• 
  

public toilet

I am not compelled

to flush

Clearly Procrastinating...

act act act act act act act think act act act act act act act

act act act act act act think think act act act act act act

act act act act act think think think act act act act act

act act act act think think think think act act act act

act act act think think think think think act act act

act act think think think think think think act act

act think think think think think think think act

think think think think think think think think

act think think think think think think think act

act act think think think think think think act act

act act act think think think think think act act act

act act act act think think think think act act act act

act act act act act think think think act act act act act

act act act act act act think think act act act act act act

act act act act act act act think act act act act act act act

Relationship Cycle

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Mt Coot-tha Botanical Gardens Haiku Sequence

http://anotherlostshark.com/2011/04/07/mt-coot-tha-botanical-gardens-ginko/

Sandgate Haiku

corrugated mud

how silent

the rotting branch

• 
  

I see it

then I don't

aeroplane through trees

• 
  

distant waves

paperbark rustles

too

• 
  

howling wind

at low tide

the dog tracks fill in

• 
  

kite surfing

falling leaves

also

Mt. Cootha Haiku

last night's storm

trapped up

in aloe vera grooves

• 
  

solitude gathering

a falling branch

startles me

• 
  

alone again

by the waterfall

my bladder expands

• 
  

tired of bamboo gazing

I look to the pond--

bamboo reflection

• 
  

gathering moss

a nearby waterfall

beckons

• 
  

walking from bench to bench

towards the pond

my ass gets moist

• 
  

each gust of the waterfall

drowning out

the aeroplane's roar

• 
  

how pleasant to see

flowers evolving

into butterflies

• 
  

parrot flowers

we have met before

on my lawn

• 
  

lone spider

guards the footpath--

no entry

• 
  

thatched roof

creeping closer

to the doodia candata

• 
  

heart jumping

oh wait it's not a spider

but a dangling leaf

• 
  

rustling leaves

the darkening path

goes on and on

• 
  

lizard stalks a moth

then I follow

trees

• 
  

native violet

each cry of the cormorant

you bob your head

• 
  

fossil logs

how many passing clouds

have you seen?

"Have All The .... In The World", Mum says

wrapper

after wrapper

in the study room

bin as i devour more

coles almond classics

mini types that mum

does not stop buying

in truck loads flash

back to a time when

my brother and sis

ever mentioned we

liked something

mum stocked

the storage

room

full

first

choc

bars

then

cheese

and

bacon

shapes

yum

Sandgate Haiku- showcased in renowned author, Graham Nunn's blog. Check it out!

http://anotherlostshark.com/2011/03/31/sandgate-ginko-vuong-pham/

Southbank Parklands Haiku

light through smog

is it sun

or moon?

summer solstice

shorter than her

pink dress

rising tide

not even the river

wants the cola bottle

Sunday walk

listening in silence

for the silence

coffee chatter fading--

the river curls

around mangroves

Brisbane Night Out

return from clubbing

only the cat hears

me enter

• 
  

pink neon

the pig fat

has long fallen

• 
  

red face

flaunting your

lack of education

• 
  

gazing at club lights

walk outside

stars

• 
  

perigee moon

in the darkness

mosquito too

Piano Lessons for Life

Correcting mistakes can take up whole piano lessons,

whole terms of piano lessons,

whole lifetimes of piano lessons.

It's no fun for the teacher,

even less so for the student.

Parallel to the mantra of:

"don't complain, find solutions",

would be a decent melody,

if composed to the whole of society

too.

Forest Painting

Staring at two quiet trees,

I walk away--

they rustle in my eyes all day.

Credo

As another youth festival

descends upon us

imposing a regime

of shopping and parties

and for many

getting drunk or stoned.

My belief is,

if you’re part of a culture,

you have the right to express

your individuality;

your universal right to

freedom of choice—

not to be conscripted

by societal norms.

For society to come knocking,

boasting values and

echoing colonialism

on native lands…

is presumptuous.

I am perfectly normal.

It’s everyone else

that fails

to conform.

Kindness- To All Who Are Good-Natured, Your Integrity Is Deeper Than All Mines Of Gold:

Kindness is goodness treasured in the heart.

I have seen your mood like sunrays, halted

by the clouds of modesty and compassion that shades

natures plentiful abundance. To rain after a dry spell.

Kindness is stored within a fleshy body- a prison

until it finds release in shining words or deeds.

We have the keys to free our cruelty: yet most remain

content with selfish ease. But sometimes a thought

occurs to remind the careless heart that keys decay in rust.

I thank you for your generous deeds, unconditional,

richer than all mines of gold. For kindness is the "thank you"

gift wrapped, kindness is the bandage of nurture

amid the bomb attack. Kindness is the "Do you need help?"

requesting to one who looks distressed. Kindness is mate-ship,

mate-ship kindness; Kindness is a plan:

scorned and derided since the world began...

Haiku SMS

Congratulations! You have won

one million dollars--

but how?

Indifference

These moonlit seas

glint in vain.

An orb of butter,

spread across sea?

I am oblivious.

I have thoughts

too deep for tears:

irretrievable as smoke,

formless as midnight.

Submerged in rumination

like shadowy mangroves,

inundated at high tide:

gasping a low and ceaseless sigh;

roots burrowed deep in the ground;

and branches subduing moonlight.

The full moon tonight is white

as a ghost and terribly upset,

dragging the sea after it like a dark crime,

to the sharp edges of the night.

A melancholy frowns

and spurts in patches on the water

towards these mangroves

where sunset fades, chill-sparse

in and around drowned hedges.

The majesty of this night is not for me.

Somewhere in this fathomless night,

two lovers walking along the long beach,

together as two gulls gliding in the wind,

may justify the moon’s beauty.

But as for me,

like dark mangroves,

I do not hear

these crashing waters.

And I am blind

to the glinting

of these moonlit seas.

Petrichor

(...from the Greek word: ‘petros’, meaning “stone” + ‘ichor’, meaning the fluid that flows in the veins of the gods in Greek mythology—the scent of rain on dry earth)

Waiting for the first rain

after a dry spell

has a suspense

like no other.

Its silence

calms the exhaustion

of hysterical trees,

shrugging off draught.

Its scent

lingers over fields

between blackberry lanes,

bearing their chests to the drizzle.

Its arrival

breathes most sweet lullabies of Gaia,

a gushing finger to her thirsty lips:

‘…hush now, sleep’.

Face-book No More!

Facebook No More! (exclamation mark)
Give me back my life.
Eyes are turning square
I stare and stare.
Like when you go checking the fridge,
you know nothing's there.
But you check it anyway.
Facebook, fridge, everyday.

Fumed, spiritous mists inhabit this place.
Yesterday's pizza sounds like a status update. Oh wait!
There's no milk! I must register as 'attending' to go to the
supermarket's event invitation to join the human race.

But no, Facebook is not a door of social opportunity,
It's a 'face' in it's own right:
Blue as a lap dancer's face and gaudily hazed.
You walk out of the stripper joint dazed.
It's a 'book' in it's own right:
Dragging you back after it like a dark crime.
Shoot the sheriff and the deputy will chase you double time.
Facebook is no door of social opportunity.
Facebook is no door.
Facebook no more.

Generation Y's Interpretation Of Some Old Proverbs

Plenty of fish in the... dating sites.
If a tree falls in the woods and nobody is around... is there anybody who cares?
Keep your friends close and your enemies... on Facebook.
If at first you don't succeed... then skydiving isn't for you.
Where there's smoke there's... global warming.
Speech is silver, but silence... catches no flies.
Beauty is in the eye of the... beer holder.
Punctuality is the politeness of... World Of Warcraft kings.
Two's company, three's... the musketeers.
A friend in need is... probably out of texting credit.
A penny saved is... not much.
Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish... and he steals your catch.
Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Cry... and you should blow your nose.
When there's a light at the end of the tunnel... get out of the way.

Ahh Hail

Was wondering why.

Trees were dancing vehemently.

Like a crazy head-banger in a mosh pit.

Then I heard a

t-a-p-p-i-n-g

noise on windows.

Ahh hail . . .

I s y t d

p o h e

w a u e t

i r a

l e i

l l

Words Escape Me

The clear, peaceful air, gently wraps clouds around

the snow peaked mountain like a silk scarf.

Gleaming sunlight seeps through thin vapour:

Melting the frozen thoughts of my mind

into streams . . .

This

t

r

i

c

k

l

i

n

g . . .

water is you,

this waterfall, torrent

joins the sea...

Words escape me.

Brisbane Flooding

Not

raining,flood

ing! Nor waving,

drowning! Waters flow

past the moist wooden houses. They

flow and flow without remorse cold and

indifferent, joining back to sea. Across

parks, thr ough roads,brimming the

Bris bane River. How rain do

es not know the feeling of

being drenched. Just as you siege my house like an unforgiving lover. Each pitter of rain, an arrow in my heart. And you, O mother of nature, don’t care. Like an overcast day, dark and raging. How you drown out the ice-cream van’s siren, The lullaby of joy once felt in a sunny day. But I will play a piano-lake-song, To fit the flooding perfectly.

(Arghh! Blogspot you annoy me! That you would inconsiderably not register spaces when i'm posting my Shape Poems!)