Author: carysowenpoetry3028

Sundown Town

is a dark place

laced through with hate

offers safety

with strings attached ~

don’t be black

don’t be gay

don’t come from away

.

The country twang

pretends honesty

delivers division

with tropes and lies.

.

We all come from here

from Planet Earth

we all need to eat

to speak, to breathe

.

We don’t want

your Sundown Town

named for slavery

and Jim Crow days

where black people

are s’posed to leave

before the sun

goes down

or else…

.

By Carys Owen

.

This poem is my response to a conversation I heard

on the CBC Radio show ‘Commotion’. Please check it out

through the link below (rather than searching ‘Sundown Town’

and giving more attention to an already contentious song and singer)

We dreamed of it for years

and then it came

bigger and better

than any imagining

wreathed in mist

and mystery

.

Across the bridge

and on to Portree

we headed north

to greet the

Old Man of Storr

stoic on the hillside

and rambled through

the rugged land

of Quiraing

.

We traced dinosaur footprints

big as dustbin lids

in Uig

picnicked in

the landslip of

the Fairy Glen

tasted the thrill of

cliff climbing at Elgol

and sighed as we lost the

Inaccessible Pinnacle

in a storm

.

We feasted at

‘The Skye Pie Company’

gazed at Staffin Island

dreaming of fiddle tunes

took the single track

road to Neist Point

to stand in open-mouthed wonder

soaked our toes

in the Fairy Pools

and marvelled at the Cuillin

with their promise of forever

.

We toasted it all

at Talisker

salt on our tongues

warmth in our hearts

with the grateful

melancholy of

day’s end and

time well spent

together

.

By Carys Owen

’

Silence lines up beside the turntable

waiting for her moment between songs

.

Silence dives below the waves

to commune with octopuses

.

Silence is the air cell

inside a robin’s egg

.

Silence bakes herself into a cake

to spring out and mouth ‘surprise!’

.

Silence waits in a corner, head in hands

while pots are thrown across the room

.

Silence is blood cruising

the body in search of oxygen

.

Silence lives at the end of a sentence

written in a sympathy card

.

Silence is my dog running after

rabbits in her dreams

.

Silence tastes of nothing in

the air between my lips

.

By Carys Owen

.

Written in conjunction with dVerse Poetics

.

Green saturates

every sense

~ a miracle

in chlorophyll ~

suddenly here

.

Leaves appear

in glorious iterations

emerald bursts

topped with

delicate petals

.

Ferns folded

within folds

unravel with

geometric grace

to the tick of

dandelion clocks

.

River races on

without sleep

washing new life

to the ocean

snow-chilled

and urgent

.

And the birds

oh the birds

they sing

every daylight hour

staking claims

making love

guarding home

just because

.

By Carys Owen

‘

Loosely related to the theme of nature,

my hymn to the late arrival of spring.

.

You are the one

without a voice

without a pen

without a friend

.

You are the one

without daylight

without a square meal

without peace

.

We strain to hear

your words

spoken in hushed tones

chasing freedom

.

We strain to hear

your name

so we may speak it

and bring you home

.

By Carys Owen

This poem was written on the theme of ‘Uncaging the Poet’

Mindful of the many people who are imprisoned for speaking

their truth, I imagined the ones who receive no attention or

publicity . Thanks to Amnesty International and PEN who

work tirelessly to bring these writers, thinkers, loved-ones

home.

.

Octopus pulls in treasures

from the ocean floor

shells, carapaces, coral

all to adorn her

patchwork façade

her undersea blanket fort

built from the inside out

designed to confound

the hunter and befuddle

the love rival

she hunkers down

like 27 Roman legionaries

in testudo formation

shields locked to

protect soft parts

sliding the last plate in place

she spies through a tiny gap

pinpointing her moment

to escape

.

By Carys Owen

Inspired by the poetry prompt ‘animal architecture’

and this amazing creature

.

Welcome to old friends

cedar, spruce, hemlock, fir

.

Welcome to our families

deer, otters, marmots, geese

.

Welcome to stealthy hunters

cougars, wolves, sea-lions, martens

.

Welcome to the fisher-folk

herons, scoters, cormorants, grebes

.

Welcome to the inter-tidal clan

sun stars, oysters, anemones, crabs

.

Welcome to the deep sea divers

halibut, kelp, octopus, seals

.

Welcome to the night-time crew

barred owls, bats, mice, raccoons

.

Welcome to the pond dwellers

tadpoles, salamanders, dragonflies, toads

.

Welcome to the budding plants

sword fern, skunk cabbage, fiddleheads, lilies

.

Welcome to the forest lovers

woodpeckers, squirrels, lichen, moss

.

Welcome to the ocean schools

dolphins, humpbacks, herring, eels

.

Welcome to the gift-givers

thimbleberry, salmonberry, hazelnut, salal

.

Welcome to the pollinators

wasps, bees, hummingbirds and humble flies

.

Welcome to the tireless gardeners

earthworms, snails, robins, moles

.

Welcome to the microscopic wonders

bacteria, plankton, microbes, nematodes

.

Welcome to the earth enrichers

leaf litter, fungus, beetles, humus

.

Welcome to the engineers

ravens, beavers, spiders, ants

.

Welcome to the balladeers

loons, tree frogs, chickadees

.

Welcome to the councillors

seagulls, crows, Pacific waves

.

Welcome to the new arrivals

fawns, chicks, cubs, kits

.

Welcome to the ancient ones

mountains, forests, ocean, rivers

.

Welcome to our wild, wise elders

salmon, eagle, orca, bear

.

Welcome to the human ones

with respect and gratitude to First Nations

.

Welcome to the longer days

and shorter nights

.

Welcome to the warming sun

and sustaining rain

.

Welcome to a dawning season

where you can choose

to begin again

.

WELCOME TO

A WILD  NEW  LIFE

.

By Carys Owen

.

Written for @wildwisesociety in honour of their

‘Wild New Life’ event on April 30th

at Willow Point Hall, Campbell River.

Everyone is welcome!

.

The hollow in

the bed she made

is filled with love

.

the silence where her

dog tags rang

is filled with love

.

the stillness where she

gazed and explored

is filled with love

.

the void once awash

with sighs and snores

is filled with love

.

the place in my arms

where she melted in

is filled with love

.

the empty beach where

she skipped and wove

is filled with love

.

the gentle waves that

bathed her toes

all filled with love

.

the big sky and the

mountain view

love, love, love

.

By Carys Owen

Rest well dear friend

Kenzie 2009-2023

The nature of my animal,

Kenzie, is love, love, love

and a lot of cheekiness!

xxxx

I left town years ago

and moved to the woods

with a forest

for a back yard

~ trilliums in spring

mushrooms in fall ~

.

a grassy clearing

perfect for daisies

bordered by fiddleheads

tended by deer

.

maple saplings shoot up

fresh and green

grand fur stretch overhead

moss carpets the shade

and just beyond

.

are skunk cabbage, huckleberry

salmonberry, sword fern

fawn lilies, ocean spray

Oregon grape, vanilla leaf

licorice fern, lupins

columbines, dandelions

cedar, oak and hemlock

.

I asked around

and they all agreed-

none of them

are weeds

.

By Carys Owen

Written for the dVerse Poetry prompt of ‘Weeds’

I live in two worlds

separated by vast waters

~ half a lifetime in each ~

my heart shared

between

touchstones

.

Here on an island

wild and rugged

where I walk the beach

daily and traverse

forests to reach

home

.

There on an island

with my daughter

~ a windswept beach

and a bus ride home

to Zoom with my son

her brother

.

Our orbits

sometimes align

but mostly I am resigned

to drift happily between

two worlds

oceans apart

.

By Carys Owen

Written for a prompt about place and space by d’Verse Poetics