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Robyn Dyhr

of

Baulkham Hills, NSW, Australia

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robyn@ozelunch.com.au (Robyn Dyhr)


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Coming to Karma

by

Robyn Dyhr

If
reincarnation is for real
If we must all
keep coming back
until we find out perfect life
our Karma

Then,
I must be
either a recent edition
or else
I've made a shocking mess
of some other
poor soul's past life.


Time and Time Again.

by

Robyn Dyhr

Time
absolute in succession
chases itself
to give the impression
that it is methodical

Relentless,
as it
self righteously
ticks over permanence:
A period of effect and purpose

How would it know?
It never stands still
never casts a backward glance
Never to know the purpose.
Never to see the effect.


A Game of Chess

by

Robyn Dyhr

Poor little pawns,
forfeited...
in the name of the game.

Knights prance,
two forward, one across,
disposing of the unwary.

The Queen
moves every which way
to protect her man
Her King.

He lingers,
in the shadows
then promenades...
One step at a time.

Too late!
She cannot wait...
and she is taken.

Checkmate!
Stalemate!
Do you wish to play again?


Clouds

by

Robyn Dyhr

A whisper of sunlight
clings to the sky
for a brief moment
and then, with a final burst,
announces day is done.

Pink cheeked clouds,
flushed and weary
from the day's work,
wander in
to rest their elbows
on the hills below.

They wait...
stilled by the silence...
to pay homage to Twilight,
the Princess of the night,
as she passes by.

Wispy strands of haze
scout among the valleys
to seek a resting place,
a hiding place,
from Night.

As darkness
crawls over the evening skies
greying clouds
creep noiselessly into the hollows.

Thier day complete...
they must make way
for fierce night clouds
and His Majesty
The Moon.


Fight or Flight

by

Robyn Dyhr

Fighting the urgency
of flight
to remain intact,
to stay grounded.

The freedom to run
overtaken by the desire
to stand still...
To do nothing.

Anywhere...
does not seem real.

Somewhere...
does not exist.

Nowhere...
is a lonely place to live.


Ambiguity

by

Robyn Dyhr

Innuendo
runs barefoot and pregnant
from your mouth.

Labouring
under the guise of wit.
Never
giving birth to intelligence.


Equal Rights

by

Robyn Dyhr

The darker side of nature
is only what we make it.
When a lover is not that good
is it right or wrong to fake it?

Should we opt for equal rights
and demand vaginal orgasm?
Or, if compassion is in our hearts,
does it hurt to pretend the spasm?

Honesty is wonderful!
Or, only so much dressage...
Didn't Mother Nature invent
nocturnal comouflage?


Opaque Clarity

by

Robyn Dyhr

It is clear
that it is unclear

It is reasonable
that it is unreasonable

I cannot deny
that it is undeniable
and I understand
that I do not understand

I am tempted
by the clarity of obscurity
to trade
distinction for seculsion
to explore the solitude
and find nothing...

A limbo for my soul.


See Saws

by

Robyn Dyhr

On our private seesaw
of emotions
Someone has to cop
the heavy end
most of the time!

'One of these days' she said,
in a half -hearted way.

'I'll jump off the seesaw
and run far, far away'


This Victorious Contest

by

Robyn Dyhr

As we strive to be ourselves
As we sit and wait and learn our lines
and we pretend to search... for what?
Who say when we have made it?

At the end of this Victorious Contest,
when they fasten down the last nail,
do they tell us if we won?
Is there meant to be a hero, a martyr,
a man of distinguished valour?

Do we choose our path
or does life choose us?
What choice do we have
for a second chance?

Are we simply...

Time pieces, ticking off our lives
Dots and spots,
on the face of the universe
with all the significance
of fleas
on the fabric of existence?

"Life is not a dress rehearsal"

A mime in a vaccuum
could barely speak it louder!
A Charlatan could make it seem
believable, more real!

I...
I am a cardboard cut-out caricature
experiencing one day at a time,
dressed... for the occasion
in just my birthday suit!


Travellers of Time Past

by

Robyn Dyhr

Thoughts of you
trickle, spill over
and seep into my mind.

They lay there,
motioless for a moment,
enveloped in the stillness,
the haze of quiet reflection.

Imperceptibly the stir,
gather momentum
and glide effortlessly
on their way.

A procession
of forgotten times
swept along
the maze of memories...
long forgotten.

Navigating,
exploring all streams of thought
they wander freely, at will.
Demanding precedence,
they banish all thoughts before them.

Victorious!!
These travellers of time past
converge and reunite.
They are satisfied...
I have not forgotten one memory of you.


I Always Knew

by

Robyn Dyhr

Sometimes,
when I have walked with you
through the mists of doubt,
and we have sat together
in the haze of quiet reflection
I knew.

Sometimes
when I have looked at you
spellbound...mesmerised
and we have walked together
toward our dreamtime...dreaming
I knew.

Sometimes
when I have thought of you
and you have filled my mind
and we have whispered together
sharing... distant promises
I knew.

I knew
from that first brief moment
when you stood beside me
and placed your hand in mine.
When I breathed you in
and you became my life.

I knew...then
what I have always known
I knew...
I would love you forever.


Little ballad of being

by

Robyn Dyhr

sometimes we pretend
against all sense
to discover our lines
in other hands
but the life
often intends
to close our feelings
in other fences
and everything is clear
the life , the feelings and the hands
they only survive
in our lands.