Isles of Antipodes

Guttural voice inflected,

Confessions of Sinful thought,

Be Damned!




Or purely Insurrection?


Is this merely just one more intersection?

Intersection of Introspection,

Stealing through the dusk of night.


Dusk of night labouring

Labours upon labours giving birth to

Nothing more than Captain Obvious.


Upon closer inspection,

It’s an outright and outwardly unrighteous loss,

What’s going on inside of us.


A purely neuronal dissection,

Total and complete,

Call it what it is.


Now bringing a synaptic infusion of


Yet thoughts still divided as on Isles of Antipodes.


Soul brought low,

And now subdivided,

Into the Triunal three of threes.

Gute Nacht, Gute Nacht!

Handcrafted poetry by John Hines, 12/12/2015 

Liner Notes:

The inspiration for this poem came on a walk last Sunday, December 6 as the sun was setting over O-Town.  I wrote the beginnings of this poem in my phone while flaneuring my way around various neighborhoods south of the city.  I edited it this week between stints of teaching psychology and planning for, meeting for and having my annual formal observation.

This urban walk took me to some of these places in my mind and the places in my mind took me through my walk.  This week I’ve been voraciously reading between bouts of work, sleep and family time and working on more poetry:

The Magic Mountain, Thomas Mann

The Divine Comedy, Dante Alighieri

Bluebeard, Kurt Vonnegut

While Mortals Sleep (Unpublished Short Fiction), Kurt Vonnegut

Thank you for visiting and staying long enough to read these thoughts.

Have a most blessed day!






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