#peter bakowski

[lupitovi]

Mais, la nuit tombée, les éoliennes et les fils téléphoniques grincent et chantent leur berceuse des grandes étendues. Couché dans ton duvet sous une harde d'étoiles, ton coeur pose toutes les questions auxquelles  seul le vécu peut répondre.

Peter Bakowski

[forsoothsayer]

Times For Drinking Tea In China by Peter Bakowski

When you’ve bargained well at the market When you’ve cleared stones from a field When sheltering from rain When the horse you’ve tethered quietens When resting by a riverbank When a stream’s fish resist your baited hook and shining lures When envious of a neighbour’s larger herd of goats. When dreaming of leaving your village, never to return. When the landlord visits When remembering lean years, the selling of family heirlooms to buy food When the midwife has left, her good work done When a fox has been amongst your chickens When a lost sheep is found, bleating in a ditch When you’ve repaired your bicycle, brushed the dirt from your knees When you’re the only one awake in the dormitory When far from home. When thinking about what your parents taught you When thinking about what you’re had to learn for yourself When you’ve paid off a debt When trying to understand a relative When you’ve paced the room for too long When discussing the afterlife When the fog lifts from the path you’ve taken When your tea canister is almost empty.

[forsoothsayer]

Regarding Telepathy by Peter Bakowski

I’m in more than two minds about it.

[planarianunbound]

Peter Bakowski "After the diagnosis"

Peter Bakowski “After the diagnosis”

Peter Bakowski After the diagnosis The wind blows Jeff’s list of errands across the hospital carpark. Melbourne-born and based, Peter Bakowski fell in love with the map of the world at the age of six.  

View On WordPress

[eunoiareview]

Observations in the year 2016

Observations in the year 2016

The truth has more enemies than allies. Adults have their ways, children have their whys. People are made smaller by their grudges. A straight banana is an impostor. No pebble looks like its parents. Bubbles never overstay. The busy life, the lazy life, both are quicksand. At any age you may become what doesn’t become you. Your heart may fail as a lie detector. Melbourne-based poet Peter Bakowski…

View On WordPress

[planarianunbound]

Peter Bakowski "Editors"

Peter Bakowski “Editors”

Peter Bakowski Editors In a poorly-constructed sentence the commas become termites. Australian poet, Peter Bakowski tries to write as clearly as possible and make his next poem different from his last.

View On WordPress

[bronblogging]

12/09

Went to the City Library today. What a lovely space! There was an exhibition about people in Palliative Care (Dad you would’ve liked it!!), a lovely upright piano, lots of books and magazines and study rooms. There was a framed bit of poetry on the wall which I liked so I’m gonna put it here.

The weather inside

Sometimes your thinking can make you cry sometimes your crying can make you think.

My zen answer

You get a grip when you let go.

To progress

Chip away at a wall until it becomes a stepping stone.

Taking stock

You were born naked. Count the masks you’ve worn since.

The teenage boy

His parents understand his less with each body piercing he gets.

- Peter Bakowski 5 ultra short poems

[allyourprettywords]

"Where Words Take Us," Peter Bakowski

I write poetry — because it puts windows where there were walls

because today is a mountain I’d like to reduce to a few stanzas

because now is the time to write it.

I write poetry, hoping to astound myself.

I write poetry because I enjoy coaxing words out of the corral of my ribs, letting them graze upon the blank page under the shade of an adverb.

I try to write poetry clearly, use words sparingly, each word, a small cog or spring needed to make the poem tick.

Don’t want to fog or flood any readers proceeding to the end of my poem, where they may rest in the quiet clearing just beyond the last full stop.