Saturday, 27 December 2014

You Never Know

You Never Know

Lying under a leafy canopy
dozing in the clement
Listening to the drone
of planes as they pass
going who knows where
Ferrying the unknown
though, maybe there’s one
that I’ve come across
but I’ll never know
unless disaster happens
and the name appears
in the roll call of deceased
I might shed a teardrop
or just feel sorrowful.
Although I’ll never know
if they were on one
of these planes,
that flew above me
this languid afternoon
while I fantasised
and wrote this poem
in my head whilst
lying beneath the cherry tree

©June Sciortino 07/08/14

Wednesday, 19 November 2014

'Fit' for work

'Fit' for Work

I’m free to return to work,
I can manage to walk a mile.
I can sit for an hour without pain.
I can manage to write a sentence.
I can give answers to questions,
which are nevertheless ignored.

I shout out in protest, please listen… 
to no avail, there is no empathy,
no attempt to understand qualms.
Awareness of my condition, none.
Robots in the guise of assessors
with no means to grasp abnormal.

Today I am normal, predictable 
But at times wire feels like it’s drawn
ever tighter inside my cranium,
until voices scream out  in anger,
coercing me to strike back with
impropriety and vulgar gestures,

I have no control, or escape.
This malady overwhelms,
it violates dreams of normality,
my striving for enlightenment,
a world where no one grimaces
or looks frightened when I approach.

The bitter taste of absurdity is
I will return to an ambient
where weird is worrisome, then
the whispers and stares will follow
and the voices in my head explode
and pronounce me unemployable.

June Sciortino

Wednesday, 14 August 2013

Drought in Hyde Park 2006

Drought in Hyde Park (2006)

Spiky straw-like blades
flattened by seekers of shade,
flex to a shoe drop or paw pad,
prickle vulnerable soles
of a barefoot free spirit

No daisies for chains
or dandelions to crush.
Withered brittle leaves,
nettles wilted, heads bowed.
staring at the fractured soil.

Morose trees in the distance
stare at the wasteland
unsure if they too will share
the grim fate allotted to
an erstwhile lush playground
Witness the paltry palette,
of ochre, sepia and umber.
Contemplate this landscape
forsaken, heat hung with thirst,
imploring a sun swamped sky.

 ©June Sciortino 05/08/13


Saturday, 6 July 2013

For Dreamy Georgia

For Dreamy Georgia

Waste no time with the whimsical…
expectations of sweet romance.

Mock anticipations of true love,

made-up prince in shining armour,

blinkers you with dust crammed reveries

Visit reflections…a jonquil moon…
floating across a midnight lake,

with a twinkling of gemstone stars.

Flawless images…scented allure…

circlets of petals, styled perfection,

untarnished visions for alert eyes

Liberate honeyed thoughts galore,
relish your world, heaven on earth.

Don’t miss life’s ember to celebrate.

Waste not your time in the maybe’s.

When it’s time for a love to emerge,

recognize the attraction within…

sincere feelings aren’t gossamer thin

unlike your fanciful dreams and…

you won’t have shattered your hopes.

©June Sciortino 05/07/13

Thursday, 4 July 2013

To Fuchsia, Ballerina

To Fuchsia, Ballerina

Lissom, graceful, ballerina…do not float past.
I crave to learn the mystery of your innate soul.
As you dance away in your secluded garden,

am left bemused with the tale of your creation.

Free without connection, a reprieve desired,
an answer to a thousand unanswered questions.
Cast your petals to the wind… liberate my mind,
reveal those inner thoughts as to where, when and why.

Don’t leave me stranded with such strange disclosure.
Relieve me… past resentment, guilt and discontent.
Permit me please to remain within your flora.
Lissom, graceful, ballerina…do not dance away.

©June Sciortino 04/07/13

Saturday, 22 June 2013

Like Munch

Like Munch

 (pertaining to: The Edvard Munch painting 'The Scream')

A times I want to open my mouth, bellow, howl.
cry torrents until no tears remain, the pain…a dull ache.
Curse…blame friends, enemies, family, even you
for agonies lodged inside soul, ingrained into psyche
trapped…unable to set free for peace of mind
Hear my screams, open your mouths into an 0 shape,
cover your ears…you are my Munch hearers.
The fault…not family, friends or even you. 
Torments  accumulated… cruelty I suffer
failure to let go, move on... my weakness
until  I find the way to release despair…
breathe each day in serene harmony
Silently I’ll scream, open mouth into an 0 shape,
cover my ears  so I am the Munch hearer.
But…you will only see my smile.
©June Sciortino 13/03/13

Saturday, 15 June 2013

Waiting for him with Wendy Cope

Waiting for him with Wendy Cope
(The book ‘ If I don’t know’)

Wendy Cope diverts my mind
as I drink tea and wait for you.
If she doesn't know, neither do I,

but I’m stuck to the book like glue

Titters emit with no constraint,
I snort out loud with hilarity.

Café consumers glance my way,

thrown by such abnormality.

A call for the men in white coats

is sure to be issued shortly.

Doubt I’ll be laughing in that case,

But… bet you will be blatantly.

©June Sciortino 15/06/13