Cosmic Eye Somewhere

July 26, 2015 at 7:22 pm (Dominic Alapat, Poetry)

There are some open spaces where you can be
preferably on a rock under a tree.

The vehicles in the distance you will barely hear
the old buildings across are dead and dear.

And as the rhymes you read open your mind
you look up at the sky calm and quiet.

There you see the endless white flowing
also perhaps one or two birds flying.

Now the day darkens and you feel
one with the trees one with the breeze
and you begin to walk home
one with the streets.

Shops and shoppers,
vegetables and vendors
gladden your eye.

Streetlight and headlight
brighten the night.

– Dominic Alapat


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I Could Not Stand Up

May 26, 2015 at 6:42 pm (Dominic Alapat, Poetry)

not even

to my knees

there were words

so heavy

my head knocked

against the street constantly

I did not want to go on

but if I stopped

nerves burst through

my body

and my back cracked

so I stumbled on.

Out of nowhere

the music began to sound

the notes slow

I saw the sea

and as I started

to stand up straight

through the mist

several skyscrapers rose.

– Dominic Alapat

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The Watchman

April 19, 2015 at 4:20 pm (Dominic Alapat, Poetry)

sat under the mango tree

on a blue tin chair

tapping his stick

on the ground

in the afternoon.

Across the road

a white Fiat slept

in its rusted garage

in the shadow

of a faded

yellow building.

The white sky

burned in

complete silence.

– Dominic Alapat

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The Sky

March 15, 2015 at 5:00 pm (Dominic Alapat, Poetry)

is a big blue jar of water

I drink from all day

the birds do too

before returning to circle the buildings

how beautiful they look


going round

and I stay

at my window

and watch

I find

the shops

the thin strip of road

the timber sticks stacked

the trees

the locality


just waking

in the glowing golden light

giving it wings

making it merge with the sky

in the morning.

– Dominic Alapat

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Time to Go

February 22, 2015 at 8:25 am (Dominic Alapat, Poetry)

tossing through

the yellow room the ship of shadows

in all this talk of trains…

to see pink buildings sail the sky

you can’t miss them

buzzing through in a taxi’s

butterfly flight

where blue red green

and others you’ve seen

bring you back home

in an orange steamer’s dream

blowing in the afternoon.

– Dominic Alapat

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February 7, 2015 at 7:30 pm (Dominic Alapat, Poetry)

in the afternoon

there was such a noise

in my head

it took me a while

to realise

a train was passing through it

and this is what it said:

Dominic dice the moon finely

into a bowl

squeeze the sun onto it

crush a handful of stars

pour everything

into a glass

and drink Dominic

drink till you begin to dance.

– Dominic Alapat

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A Chain of Thoughts

January 8, 2015 at 7:53 am (Dominic Alapat, Poetry)

goes off like firecrackers

in my mind

everyday in the afternoon

leaving my head smoking

in the heat

like a burnt coconut shell

then I drink water

and watch TV

till my brain hums

like a garbage bin of flies

only in the evening

when light fades

and birds take to the sky

do my thoughts slow down

and begin to silently disappear

into the solace of darkness.


– Dominic Alapat

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You Would Know This

December 10, 2014 at 1:11 pm (Dominic Alapat, Poetry)


the afternoon asleep

like a log

the sun pouring and pouring

its light

the streets in silence

the lone man or two out

walking slowly

as though in a dream

the cars parked

deep in slumber

with always one rusted long dead

and here sometimes

when that rare breeze blows

a stray dry leaf

dragging along the road

is loud enough

to keep echoing in your head

50 paces or more.


– Dominic Alapat

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It Was A Mellow Scene

November 15, 2014 at 8:35 am (Dominic Alapat, Poetry)

 when afternoon light faded

and evening set in

over the green grass of the gardens

the white and yellow buildings

I would look up

at a second-storey window

bathed in light and shadow

at the blue or cream paint inside

with a picture probably hanging on a wall

the afternoon lovers leaving

the pink benches for others

who would soon arrive

a lone car in the distance

in the last rays of the sun

turning a corner

I would find the empty footpaths

blissfully asleep in the shade of the trees

and peace moved my heart

when the first hawker

arrived rolling his cart.


– Dominic Alapat

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The Children Have Gone

October 17, 2014 at 8:50 am (Dominic Alapat, Poetry)

for a ride in the horse-carriage along the sea

we stand in a circle passing

a bottle of toddy

when we play football

I realise I’m so heavy I can barely run

I have zero coordination

with the ball

I fall and fall

shouting things

the wind brings back

with the sky that comes so close swaying

like a child eager to join our game.


– Dominic Alapat

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