Adriana Wood
Adriana Wood Poems
The long legged boy, wavy hair to his shoulders,
Smiled jauntily and said "Hullo, "
Putting a bright face over his plight,
While to his right,
...
Hawk, menacing black V,
Soars higher in the sky, black shape dangling in talons.
Black squiggle wiggles and squeals,
Dragging bird down, nearer ground, .
...
When I die I want to come back as ME,
Taking form of a woodland sprite, clothed in mist, who cares for a tree.
Our silhouettes write a poem on the sky at dusk, when the cool breeze whispers, and sways the trees, while light fades from the forest.
I will be free to take my leave and travel to far flung places and dimensions, and under the sea.
...
I am sick of spongy grass, wetly green,
Water trapped around its roots on the once firm ground.
Even the ducks look bedraggled in the damp rot all around.
I pick my way through the dankness,
...
Adriana Wood Biography
I was born in New Zealand, near Wellington. Now I live in Australia, on the beautiful Central Coast, NSW. I returned to study, graduating, with a BA, from GU, Queensland, in 2005. I have travelled in the UK, Spain, Italy, Canada, India, USA and the Caribbean, among other locations. My ‘day job, ’ has predominantly been in roles assisting the unemployed, and residents of public housing. I have worked in the lonely tower of a super rich magazine company, selling subscriptions, but this ran contrary to my visions as a writer. I have remained a wanderer and writer at heart, camera and journal at hand, along the way.)
The Best Poem Of Adriana Wood
Youth In Their Beauty
The long legged boy, wavy hair to his shoulders,
Smiled jauntily and said "Hullo, "
Putting a bright face over his plight,
While to his right,
A young girl stood,
Round sweet face, hair tied back tight,
Pony tail hanging over her hood.
Like him, her smile was wide and bright,
Both tee shirt and denim clad.
Both laughed as if aggression made them glad,
To conceal they were really homeless and sad.
He had trashed their last place, sent away,
Now a sadder, sicker addict lets them stay.
They remind him of his lost youth,
While they rarely tell the truth,
Nor pay their way.
One day they leave, weaving slowly down the road,
Pushing a silver shopping trolley,
Clanging and bumping, carrying their load,
Resplendent in youth's beauty and folly.
(2012)
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5/9/2024 6:59:18 AM # 1.0.0.1119
