At Fort Arthur, Western Australia

Poem By Michael Buhagiar

A solitary cannon to the sunset points.
Idle gunners talk and smoke
And hook their heels in the sandstone’s joints
In a world the gaping centuries cloak.

Wind disturbs the waters’ shape.
Piled rocks locked suppress and curb
The sea’s tall lust to press and rape
The curfewed hulls. God is a verb.

I have journeyed here to the wilder west
In search of the darker side of my brain,
Where the sun goes down to a basement club

To emerge at dawn from a lightless quest.
And I follow now, as the shadows stain,
To return to myself through dirt plains and scrub

Comments about At Fort Arthur, Western Australia

There is no comment submitted by members.

5 out of 5
0 total ratings

Other poems of BUHAGIAR

Before I Met You

Spring would come with shafts of light
To make love to dark earth in the morning dew,
But the frost would bite too deep at night
And the beds were all bare, before I met you.

Rider On The Storm (Homage To Jim Morrison)

Adios to the lands and great house, Caballero,
A kiss for the Lady in White and your friends,
For you ride out to meet the wild Toronegro
Pounding the plain, and the world on you depends.

Sadness Of The Moon (Tristesse De La Lune) : Translation

A more langorous moon is dreaming this night:
Like a beauty on several cushions reposing
Who caresses with a hand discreet and light
The contour of her breasts before the closing

A Look

Those eyes so black; that gaze so blank.
Black like witching moons her eyes
When stars burn the night with lonely cries,
That through foam to the floor of my ocean sank.

Homage To Eric Clapton

A seed once fell onto English terrain
Where wars had thicked the soil with much blood;
And its roots struck deep into Satan’s brain
On the side where feeling and melody bud.

Poets Don'T Drink Coffee

The tickets collected with an hour to spare,
We stopped by the Mozart Café in a shell
On the water, and took in the drinkers and rare
Miasma of fresh-roasted coffee bean smell.