The Dawn

First there is blackness
pricked with light, then
tree lines come into view:
dawn is at the gate.
It lets out its light
to startle a fence
marching up a hill,
a hunched house,
a lone cat, low, white
socks padding the dust,
the great gum’s arms
reaching ever up,
leaves silver ticers.
This is how it begins,
its unfolding life,
sun lifting the dew,
the big-bellied pigeon
drawing pictures in
the lightening sky

Interloper

She ranged,

she was hastily creative,

she hatched tiny,
expired empires
arranged on whims,

sweet nonsense

and the contraction of ideas;

she said they always split
– rent –
down the stem,

where each divide
was high
or torn a-shred.

A venous mistress,

she approached
the human hustle
not for reproduction,

but the blooded marrow
of connection –

she would cut off the head,
in search of a friend
from the hellion haunt
of hydra-headed
blues;

she climbed the walls –

her hair
shone a mirror for her flaws;

an old reflection
built each new house,

she freaked her borders,

in bondage
she plucked from the perimeters,

and then she fled
deranged,

to another
immaculate imager
of arch-design.

 

grave evening

      grave evening

one
by
one
i read
the names
of everyone
i’d ever known
on the headstones
wondered how
it came to
pass that i
was left here
alone
in evening
lay down
beside them
like a flower
broken in
storm
turned
soothingly
to ash
until the
wind dusted
me away.

evening, 22 june 2013
st andrews church, ridge rd, howick

Just Degrees

Everybody is fucked up!

Just six degrees of separation

Yoga

Vegan diet

Daily meditation-

Wine

Marijuana

Giving in

to temptation-

Society is fucked up!

Just two degrees of contemplation

Black or white

No shades of grey

Nothing to come and go on-

No rainbow children

No cloud boys

No faerie girls-

Nobody is really fucked up!

Just a million degrees of communication

Open hearts

Open minds

Kind recognising kind-

Holding hands

Sharing words

Open to reciprocation-

Black and Blue

Black and blue

Black and blue

Is my heart

Like the bruises

you left behind-

Scarlet red

Scarlet red

Is my head

Like the blood

You took from me

In kind-

Do you ever

think of me?

And wonder

Why I left you?

As you burn there

In the hell

you have created

For yourself

I hold my head high

I feel no shame

I no longer

take the blame

For the many hues

of black and blue

That ultimately

became you-

birdbath

      birdbath

they were out
on the front lawn
the father, the daughter
and the son-in-law
the father was showing
where the birdbath
would go when
it came
explaining
considerations of
this and that
it was hot and
dry out on that
patch of lawn
and the daughter
the son-in-law were
putting in an effort
to keep up with
his talk but seemed
to not know just
how much effort
it deserved.
i recalled having
such a conversation
with my mother once
about the birdbath
simply putting a
big basin on the
lawn doesn’t look
wonderful and wouldn’t
work in any case
because of the cats
she’d surveyed the
backyard in her
own fashion
yet couldn’t hit
on the right spot
the colour, pebbled
or smooth were
also on the table
and it was hot
work out on the
pivot of her empire
that back yard
and garden
with the clothesline
chugging the breeze
this way and that.

it took all my
vagrant years to
learn just what
things we can
speak of when it
comes down to
the waterline
where the little
becomes much
and the heavy
lifts to float

january 2,5,6, 2015
union st, cockle bay, howick

The Resurrection

Possum under headlights!!!

Wide eyed and bushy tailed –

Passion exposed

Spontaneous tis woe!!!

Wanton kisses in the doorway-

Ultimately led to my demise-

Pants around ankles

Shoes still on-

Butt cheeks alive

on hidden camera

Moist lips

And clenched thighs-

Now headless chicken-

Cluck cluck cluck…

Backwards and forwards

Side to side-

Thoughts are racing-

My mind is pacing-

Space invaders

What the fuck???

Pointing witchy fingers at me wildly

But how was I supposed to know?

Big sister was watching-

My cabaret show-

From her hidden camera zone

Possum under headlights!!!

Dazed now and confused-

Not quite roadkill-

But ready to arise-

No bitches will fuck me-

No witches will bite

Full moon on the horizon-

This bitch will re-arise!!!

Riding to Battle in a Midnight Blue Car

Violently calm, he sits in the front seat, splayed with an eerie regality around the chassis.
Long tendrils of his fiery hair hang into his eyes, casting prison-bar shadows over them.
Lysander is achingly beautiful like this, the fire in his belly burning up, a slow heating of ember before the inferno.
For one named the liberator, he is decidedly trapped within his ways,
But I don’t mind.
His body slack, yet knuckles so white on the wheel that his rings make little arches and shadows like tiny bridges.
I have never noticed the coldness of color so much as I do now, as the glints of two green stones flicker over me.
Time is slow in these precious moments.
I am young.
We are alive and dead to the world all at once.
The car drags to a stop, trailing its own bijou dust cloud and in that silence he swings his way out of the car.
I wait until he settles before I grab the blanket from by my feet and follow.
Lysander holds himself lax, ringing his knees with wiry arms.
I pat the blanket into place.
I wait.
As always he remembers I am there, unfolds a blanket-wing and scoops me in under it.
These moments are what make it all worth it.
We cuddle together in the dark, listening to the hum of city life in the distance, the insects immediate.
It is a rare moment of peace in our storm, much needed.
We know we can’t run forever, but with him I never thought for a moment we’d grow old together.
Or apart.
His love is bruising but sweet, and I need him, despite all his flaws. My ribs don’t even ache too much anymore.
“I don’t know if we should stay out here too long Ly, it’s really cold.”
He responds only with a rough grunt, and keeps staring past me at the dirt.
“Baby?”
Suddenly he is up and bundling me into his arms, carrying me back to the car.
Back to heavens backseat and the warmth of a hellish embrace.

Oceans of Distance

Acrylic red the polish of its cut against your dress,
The leather belt, buckled around you
It radiates under the moonlight,
You’ve got that determination in your eyes,
Mirrors hiding the inside softness of your soul,
A soul carried far,
No more weight than a drifting snowflake on a winters day,
Waves crash in the distance,
You cuss me the usual,
Take the place of the underdog,
Reminds me of the fairness and why,

Tried so many ways,
To pluck you an apple from its tree,
Found again after 200 years,
As if opening a book to the correct page,
A lantern leads a way……

Rage against the dying light,
Race against time,
To talk.

Pain of Night

A night marked by poles of red light.

Angular figures, a clock: 11.44.

It is always this time; red figures on a table;

reminding the mind – again.

This is life – never more alone than now;

tiredness so profound the mind is separate

from wearied frame; an enfeebled entity

adrift on an uncharted course.

Tick tock.  It watches; it knows;

torture of night bleeding to day;

thoughts twisted on a spindle,

suspended to swing unhurried,

metronomic,

threads of reason unravelling,

a pulse of light in the darkness

 

Waking Wanting Words

When the mind as in the moon takes waning phases
The melodies and tunes stay undefined
Edging  closer to its  pages
The book stays closed
tethered leaves on branches intertwined

Then Spring will rush the head and bud the blossom
Deep within the soul the spirit calls
Lending colour to the brightening day time
Breathing life in cells and nature pours

Songs hover in a haze ,
The muscles of my mind flex
And  what I seek is  the involuntary movement of the strings
That hold the beating of your heart

heartbeat

Heartbeat ……..

Here are jumps that miss my heart
beats that chase the dust our feet disturbed
drops of time that leak
and we so meek

when the time is ripe we feast on love
devour the hollow of the mind
and be so kind
to think

of those who have no one, no other
to have and hold when fear is dread
except reveal the truth
that spills

Creator, comforter and truth

font and fountain
ocean and mountain
they heal all

Reach out to each other
love and tender in your way
and stay
in wonder

When I stop to incline an ear on nature in rapture I adore its song
and listen
to the time, to time divine me thinks
in heartbeats…………….