Destined Nation

Night falls enveloping sodden streets Winter's tread lain in footprint and puddle Neon lights blackened sky Beckoning escape for those wearied, homeward bound Only to return once more To pound capital streets A million footsteps to routine Longing to escape this endlessly repeated scene

Train of Thought

Endless wait Train late Interminable terminal Plans terminated Shiverring cold Life passing by Year on year Muttered complaints untold Train of thought Train you ought leave behind When eventually it comes

Empty Platform

Alone on empty platform Stationary in thought Railing against life Wrong side of the tracks Wanting to act Running out of steam Delayed Pointless

Andong..

A lonely becak bicycle taxi waits for a passenger in Yogyakarta, Java, Indonesia

This worn seat Ferrying backside and feet Hot and bothered under unforgiving sun Taking workers and shoppers home when the day is done What tales and gossip this seat could share Of those perched on this bicycle chair This worn seat Waiting for buttock cheek To plonk and drop on to rusted spring That the seat does not talk matters not The driver with a nod a wink knows everything

Becak in Yogyakarta near the Kraton

The tourist sat Lazy and fat Sweating moaning at tropical heat Uncomfortable on rickshaw's seat Sights to behold History unfolds All around this dusty crumbling ancient town Camera clicks Pedals turn Slowly through street and alley but how this rickshaw driver yearns To one day be the tourist in far off lands But as he sweats and strains under midday sun It remains a dream for all he earns Is a pittance compared to the man sat, complaining in his seat

Sepeda sendiri

This Fertile Land - Java

This fertile land Layered terrace and sloped field Every inch sown with crop and seed Soil rich from centuries of mountain fire Watered in torrents of heavenly abundance Life abounds in lush verdant surrounds Green assaults in every shade A land God created, not just made Created then crafted through man's endeavours Unlimited yields from the pleasures of weather Until next the volcano erupts covering field in scolding lava The bounty continues The bounty that is Java

Life Focus

A becak driver takes a break with the Bank Indonesia and Post Office in the background

Past Present.

Yogyakarta, Java, Indonesia. The Kraton, the Sultan's Palace. Past present in tradition, pomp and ceremony Past alive for all to see The palace guarded of secret and history Walls soaked in myth and mystery Past present assailed by modern times Courtyard crumbling in tropical climes Past remains perfectly preserved Unchanged Unchallenged But for how long will Present be past

The Gamelan Orchstral Instruments

Gamelan Hear the distant chime and clang of the gamelan Of bell and gong Like a sunrise set to lilting song Melody ill defined But the purity of sound sublime Flowing within Meditative, restorative, Let the gamelan begin Transport and transcend Timeless sound without obvious end Dissipating on gentle breeze far and near Carried in the souls of all who hear Music that speaks with wordless sound Which stirs emotions never before felt or found

Worcester

Worcester With a wuh not a wer Wuss not woosh or werch Worcester Not werchester or wersester wowsta or wersaister Worcester Wu-sta Nuthin could be simpla

Reflection

Water mirrors sky mirrors water Liverpool's Three Graces stand with heads bowed Reflecting history from an age of grandiloquence A time when the world conquered by greed of Imperial desire commanded the munificence of lands far, distant People that would never see the magnificence of the buildings their blood, sweat and toil built Yet today immigrants, tourists, foreigners arrive to gaze at their splendour on cloudless days, As they should All welcome The Three Graces now say

Tunnel of Boughs

Solitree

Firmament

Firmament Permanent reminder Of those who were here But now reside In the most heavenly of skies

For Rest

The peace and calm of tranquil trees Disturbed only by leaves in breeze A place to contemplate what in life is best For rest from fear worry and stress can here be found Anicent, wise, living Forest

First Light

When you capture the dawn You capture what it means to be alive

Days in the Saddle

Cycle far Cycle alone Cycle in thought Far from home

Soli-tree

Solitary Soil and Tree Witness to life Witness of history Calm in storm Resolute steadfast Silent observing Unmoved built to last Life revolves But you remain still Soli-tree And always will

Sunset

Heat dissipates as the sun Dips into cooling ocean Beckoning evening and night Arrival of dark Banishing light As one day ends another begins This the song the sun always sings

© 2017 Anthony Frobisher frobipoetry.com Created with Wix.com

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