It'sBushfireSeasonAgain

some poems to remind you

of the bush fire season

they were written for the daylesford bush fire memorial

two of the poems were chosen

 

the memorial was recently installed at the skate park

1

A black charcoal drawing

carelessly scribbled

into the landscape

with a burning match.

 2

The brutal beauty

of the wild flames,

like a weaving,

meanders through trees.

Leaving behind a trail

of black landscapes.

Observe.

Exquisite beauty

3

Fire drawings in the sky,

colouring in the density

of towers of smoky clouds.

Billowing like sails

of ancient viking ships,

having razed the land,

Leave their charcoal signature

in the landscape

 4

Controlled fire,

a friend.

Uncontrolled fire,

worse than an enemy.

destroys without a thought

whole ways of life.

Never ever to be renewed

 5

Masterpiece in red.

Concerto of flames.

Opus of rolling fire.

Symphony of blistering screams.

Disharmony of sounds.

Then,

sonata of silence….

 

6

A careless match,

roadside summer dry.

A run of fire,

turns wild.

Chaos, madness, panic,

terror, fear, horror

then….

the stillness of a charcoal night black.

Aahhh…….

7

View without the emotion,

The burned foot print

of the fire

is beautiful.

Like a black and white

photographic print

of the last century

 8

A thrown match,

like an artist's brush,

paints a mural across the sky.

An image of intense red,

of devastation,

build in hope.

Regeneration……. 

 9

The sun's eye

with tears of sadness,

at the destructive burning below.

everything conspired,

to review by fire,

the sum of

all of men's efforts.

10

The yellow heart of the fire

licks at the orange edge,

turning into red

the print against the sky

by a new expressionist.

Title: Destruction 

 

 

"During the Second World War, Winston Churchill’s finance minister said Britain should cut arts funding to support the war effort. Churchill’s response: “Then what are we fighting for?”"