5 thoughts of death sit on my mind the snow weight on the beech boughs and the Pine needle arms, dripping white water to the wild roses, you can interpret it, any way, you want the crunch of snow, dissolving under foot, the dormant stumps of bald blade, the old man’s’ beard, and vines, offering,…
Tag: time & memory
After Watching The Jim Jarmusch Movie: Patterson
There were a lot of Boarding House rooms but one came to represent them all. I even knew it while living there, that this place, that room, those stairs would illustrate my 20’s in this city. This large room, on the second floor had superb high ceilings, two tall windows, a small doorless kitchen with…
As Movement Dies
Movement comes alive. The moment need not change. The colour in the sky, new winter light at five. We are the silence of the moment amplified. All action, little talk, but loud, by board and scooter clatter, hard abrasion of the loveable resin wheels negotiating undulating concrete, poised with indomitable bravery at the sheer drop…
The Calling
I heard their mute calling through the fence, a hedge, and the weatherboard wall to my bedroom. I climbed out of my window crossed the sealed driveway to my parents motels and pulled myself up then over the corrugated fence that I’d painted for pocket money over three Saturday mornings before cricket to answer three…
As You & I
Clap your hands and it’s over, I can see that coming, already the guy is one. We go inside the supermarket and stand by the clay pumpkin stack, the carrots and the pale greens, and feel forward into it. The people, pushing by, may take of our stillness and quiet. It is good here, the…
what am I without you
4 [an excerpt] what am I without you telling me? to look upon us, two of us in darkness, with barely enough skin lit to establish our age, the gender or the race unharnessed from your own density, even that against the odds beyond our reach, a some‘thing’ always is and doesn’t offer proof of…
Flotation Devices #1
1 There’s a poem in this I’m certain, the memory came while reading the curtains parted into hearts of other poets: a summer evening sea swim alone below the green and red leather -leaf flower tree. I’d quit my full-time work making either bread or circuit boards or ice cream and I had opted out…
cooperation
summer had been torn -pinched by the first bare arms of the autumn undoing buttons and removing the loose light and the stored heat leaked out the quick and the beautiful career of being awake now asked and expected more overtime so I was up and moving lines around a travel-softened notebook in a cool…
from Things Are Wrong Though Fair Enough #3
12 I’ve thought about this event, didn’t know how to write it or what it meant. he must have come home with me…maybe I offered him the couch? but I woke on the couch and he was at the round table by the window with the view onto the bottle shop and car dealers at…
from Things Are Wrong Though Fair Enough
11. A BIRTH I begin again on what it took: a Solar System, many bones, an undercover life. I am now become detective in the womb growing to a music from the room I form to muffled shouts and laughter, a waterfall in sunlight, dazzling white, and rain, prism clean as the space I am…
Rising Star
Cold, Cold night No one to say Hi !! So I look at the sky Clouds passing by Cold, Cold night I look up high Calling my Name A Star in the sky Lonely, Not alone but, I am fine, Said I Stars shining Bright I see them in the sky Sitting on a tree…
from Hail Gazers #2
1 Come the cold, darkening afternoon, the Earth tilting the drinker toward his retirement, the folding travel armchair in the sunny yellow corner by the elongated arms of knitted winter shadow, is taken back, and put into the box with the lid screwed on, the little Malt left. 2 You’re old enough to remember when…