Poems - Daniel Bourke

Daniel Bourke

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Poems

A collection of 15 posts

A glass vase of garlic flowers on a wooden table with a grey wooden fence in the background

The subtle shade of the clouds

Garlic takes six to seven months to grow. I’m still working it out. I planted my garlic too late. Not the farm garlic though. They’ve had practice. Over a thousand bulbs this year, maybe more. Tens of thousands of cloves. Garlic is the biggest harvest of the year.

Those days when nothing gets done

A drawing of three loops, each leading to the other, each slightly different colours

The same feeling

Starting something new. A business, a relationship, an adventure, a creation. Hell, it doesn’t even have to be new. Or even the start. Still, the feelings creep in. Am I going to make it? Does she like me? What does he think? Goodness what if I go broke? Valid

Water colour painting of two birds sitting on a fallen log between two banks.

Trick plays make headlines

Tempting to do the big. Tempting to do the thing no one’s ever done. The trick. Like the old man on the hill. Yelling, kicking, showing off, swinging. Look look look! Get the process right and the rest will follow! That’s the real trick. Process over time. Try

Watercolor painting of four separate rooms and areas with different functionality

Operation zero commute

I’d like to setup a life where my commute time is basically zero. As much as possible from home. Work from home, gym from home, practice farming from home, community from home. Everything walking or riding distance, the rest delivered. I don’t even live in one of the

Weightlifting bar on an orange foam mat in front of a white wall

Home alone on a Saturday night

Got caught in thought space today. Ideas galore, activities here and there, actions minimal, lots of standing around watching not enough touching. Like the guy with a crush on a girl but never says anything. So I took a step outside thought space. And found gravity. Twenty minutes of movement

Cartoon record player with dancer spinning to the music

Listening or dancing?

Swimming or floating? Walking or standing still? Pissed off or laughing? Opposites give each other meaning. The listener’s ear hairs swing to the beat. And the dancer moves to the sound. Going through life floating down the stream. Or swimming along with events. My Mum used to teach swimming

ocean waves flowing

River meets ocean

Two of my friends got married on the weekend. Nothing went to plan and everything went to plan. A sensational day full of love. The day before I decided I better write something down to say in case I get too drunk. I'm copying it here. A parable

Create something every day

Create something every day

Why? Because creating takes thought. Not for the views, not for the fame, not for the money, these things have their place. But to expand your soul. To tune into your spirt. Find where that energy is coming from. Low on resources? Even better. Use the constraints. If you’re

Laying in bed

At night I lay in bed. Think of her. Stare at the roof. Roll over, adjust the sheets. Think of her again. What if I never see her again? Doesn’t matter. What was there was there. Even if nothing comes up, even if the memories fade, the feelings won’

Let the animal out

Let the animal out

Where’s it been? Hidden away Someone told you so Don’t do that Don’t do this You can’t You can’t do that It’s not all their fault You listened. Thought they were right. Held onto what they said. An early death comes to those who

One last walk

From walking along the desks at school Everyone looking on There’s a dog in the classroom What’s a dog doing here? Soon enough everyone starts to enjoy it Good dogs do their own thing Play, walk, eat, sleep, shit Simple Conan was a good dog Black and fluffy

A good tired

It’s getting warmer. Getting up early is getting easier. The sun is up, you can walk out the front, feel it on your chest, feel the energy. I love the heat. I love this time of year. People say how hot it is, I tell them how much I

The girl from yesterday

The girl from yesterday

It’s funny how it goes. You could be working on something all day and then run into a girl you know. One you used to lust over, not anymore but plenty in the past. And it throws your whole system out of whack. All the memories are so strong.

Riding the wave

Riding the wave

You couldn't fathom being here 100-years ago Yet here we are Metal cylinders carting people across the globe The lady asks if I'd like something to drink, water and coffee please, black, sure she says, thank you How lucky am I? Sitting here thinking about what