Dan Schaumann

Posts Tagged ‘poem’

Boltsnapper

Have you ever walked across a bridge and found that a pair of lovers have engraved their names onto a padlock and fastened it onto the fence surrounding the walkway, as a symbol of their everlasting love?

I see this regularly whilst commuting by foot across the Sydney Harbour Bridge.

It’s all well and good that they do this… but have they ever stopped to think about what will happen the day the council worker comes along with a set of boltcutters and snaps away at their love?

A young man
His sleeve without a guard
Validating all he’s ever known

A young girl
She waves a kindred arm
Letters on the lock she draws

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16,396

16,396 hz
16,396 hugs
16,396 tears
16,396 prayers
16,396 reasons
16,396 caresses
16,396 thoughts
16,396 tastebuds
16,396 memories
16,396 heartbeats
16,396 compliments
16,396 goosebumps
16,396 km I travelled
16,396 synchronicities

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What We Would Have Done

In June 2008 I packed my bags and moved from Brisbane to the UK to follow my heart and be with a girl I’d fallen desperately in love with. As amazing as the experience was, unfortunately it didn’t work out, and we inevitably went our separate ways. This is a poem I wrote that expresses what we would have done, if I’d had the opportunity to take her back to my home country and show her some of the breathtaking sights that Australia has to offer:

If romance beckoned, like we sensed with our predestination
If real life offered passion, bliss and fun
If love we’d birthed, across the Earth I’d take you on vacation
If only… this is what we would have done:

We’d spend the day at Byron Bay, the soaring house aglow
We’d walk for miles in the springtime sun
Astoundingly across the sea, the dolphins stage a show
If only… this is what we would have done

The paradisal stretch upon where surfers bear their joy
Percussive skins with bells like beating drums
Synchronic and eurhythmic like a golden girl to boy
If only… this is what we would have done

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Follow The Path

Follow the path of hope
A path of optimism… a path of expectation… a path of everlasting wonder

Follow the path of change
A path of fresh air… a path of releasing past struggles for prosperous endeavours… a path of greener pastures

Follow the path of happiness
A path of pleasure… a path of joy… a path of ecstasy

Follow the path of destiny
A path of coincdental reminders… a path of fateful encounters… a path of the natural order of the universe

Follow the path of creation
A path of free will… a path of endless possibilities… a path opened wide by pure imagination

Follow the path of peace
A path of yearned contentment… a path of inner knowing… a path of tranquility

Follow the path of love
A path of no conditions… a path of soul connections… a path of pure magic

Follow the path of perfection
A path of you… a path of me… a path of all that is

Follow any of these paths in life
And you will ultimately be lead to the ethers of hell where the burning rubble drains your soul, the malicious, dancing flame eats into your heart and the devil himself eradicates every last seed of inspiration from your once fully-sowed body.

© 2008 Daniel Schaumann

Viennese Moon

I gaze at the palace, aware of the balance
Of scale and beauty in all that we know
Every end has a start, every light turns to dark
As is proven by watching the sun resting low

Hoping you’ll be with me soon
Under the Viennese moon

Priceless antiquities, modern complexities
Ballet Giselle on the clock tower tonight
Alive by projection, the modern selection
Of venue brings crowds by the thousands to sight

The rapturous applause as the leading girl soars
To the stage in the arms of her charming young man

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My Dark Bed

Sprawled on the bed with my hands on my head and my legs in the air
Knees fully bent, squeezing every last cent from my heart’s once-full share
Eyes to the glass, not a stir, not a pass, just a blink, almost dead
I silently weep while you pleasantly sleep underneath my dark bed

The walls that enclose me are crushing me slowly with inklings of doubt
Like the light that shines pale cause the circuitry’s failed, I’d be better without
The beam up above is as black as my love, once a soft shade of red
Still I lay in a heap while you soulfully sleep underneath my dark bed

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Don’t Piss Off The Chef

The meal you thought was undercooked
Reacting cruel, the waitress took
An earful of your outlook
Don’t piss off the chef

She nonchalantly heeds your wish
Returns once more with fresh-cooked dish
Disguised saliva as garnish
Don’t piss off the chef

You think you triumph with your tone
Of insolence, but unbeknown
To you, your shared testosterone
Renders you acutely prone
To karmic fire and brimstone
From those empolyed behind the zone
Next time garnish: acetone
DON’T PISS OFF THE CHEF.

© 2008 Daniel Schaumann

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