Vigilant through windows and cracked sills, she is the insatiable witness. Lacquer-eyed and looming, her lungs gloom the glass and flakes of dead paint spot the stillness of her limbs. A slick hiss of cicada arcs electric through the suburb, the day as pale as a panic attack and unreal with ease. Its casualties cringe…
Denial is to Loving #3
5 Summer, cooling, signifies a difference in the ruling; Pi, Planck, the uterus, perturbations in behaviour. Facts are short & useless by themselves, a life-support promising goodbye you stupid thesis, science doesn’t differ from belief— is flavour, face to face the ever ready mint breathe, Winter breeze, ground beneath the feet each distance-darkening week. my…
Site updates
Hello Poets Life has been terribly busy for me during the horrifying UK lockdown, I have been living in the UK for about ten years, so found a NZ poet to take over this site. Sadly as we all know, Jason died and we have all been updating this site, by now I had hoped…
Denial is to Loving #2
2 Summer cooling signifies a calling to be answered. (That self is to the Armies what Emperors & Footstools). Hello, the handsome hills, the homeless walking urge starts with Spring, bees working orchards, erecting canopies. mornings trim but warming ground invigorate the tuber prompt the minimalism withdraw, forlorn, I doubt it to celebrate the excess…
Denial is to Loving
1 It will soon be summer- seamed-with-autumn, & the first 10 years sober—a decade without the odour without the taste of cigarettes or the clogged pipe, to wit, goodbye ridiculous dehydration; nights all out of ratio, proportion; goodbye, elastic strangulation belts, clothing not belonging on your health. 1.1 It will soon be autumn- lined-with-summer afterheat—goodbye…
Boudica
History, let us sleep with the softness of moths, pearled in worms turned white as knuckles, churned on old war grudges – let us die of each other under skies of loving larvae. O Rome, I’m a strung out symphony – the numbers furl from us like vellum smoke flowering along Watling. Mortal, the eye’s…
She
She let her dreams die But, Still she hears A silent whimper Somewhere Deep inside her heart..
A Special Memory For JJ
Footprints We make connections with people in life who touch us – but ultimately – We walk one way – one foot in front of the other- Creating footprints – in the sand – only to be washed away by the incoming tide –
Neuron Star
There is a hex on our time, a popsicle melting in the miscellany of summer days pooling the iridescent depths of the lens, each high noon startled to deep blue fluorescence and fraught immemorial, pinned like a moth against the montane spread of cumulous ranges. I watch as it all flakes to motes for the…
2 wrongs
to forgive is a cop-out & a lie. if you have ever tried, you know. you don’t succeed, even if you think you do & it kills you – the wound plastered. the second wrong is to do nothing about the first. the soul flushed on one side, smarts & festers. the one…
The Long Window
Long windows set in stone, two up and two down. This building stands apart in a village notable for despair: the streets are empty and wide, made for horse, carriage, the drover’s dog. A small park circled by iron, houses cling to life. And those windows, where spiders crawl and weave. Inside, tapping – an…
becoming
the face indistinct composite says nothing but bluffs, a closed bud a violet the garden hung w starlight no-one sees, the trees undercut, shades between, the plane that glides the voided sky at Pisces. call it digression, a slip in standards. my dna is 99% gorilla 2% banana, but we’re not similar. the death of…