Poems by Inchiki


Our Planet

is a seed
and the yellow sun
has cracked it
into a furze of malt
all our pallid faces

the tree from which it fell
was defined by its event log
scattering fruit to the furthest
loaded by identity
fertilised with the fabric of space

the universe is our father
the event tree our mother
somewhere nearly identical
our sisters and brothers

for the purposes of this fancy they shall exist

Rhymes for a Mood  2007