It’s the last day of everything
Summer has crept out the back door
Words taste salty on my tongue
The baby has woken a song
His hands found the words hiding
in their shape like a diamond
In the sky light is fleeting shadows pass
Laundry flaps on the line the end
Of the world and nothing is dry
Now I think about it nothing
Ever dried not completely you
Can’t enter the sleeve for dampness
The time for drying is done
In this peeling wooden house at
The fierce edge of disappointment
Things that will not end well include
The unrisen cake the fridge left open
This mineral poem
Words taste salty on my tongue
It’s the last day of everything
I don’t know what memory is for
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Monday, January 30, 2012
the silk of sisters
everything fragile
and the mirror is the world
this is the fairytale
I never told you
and it is coming true
the pride, the fall
the sideways sweep
see how it frames you?
your eyes haunt your face
and the mirror is the world
this is the fairytale
I never told you
and it is coming true
the pride, the fall
the sideways sweep
see how it frames you?
your eyes haunt your face
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Dromana Poems
Rickets Point Arthur Streeton, 1890DAY
1.
sea gull
gullup
brackwater
glooming algae
storm carry
spillaway
2.
seasky
flatlines
3.
shimmer light
heat glaze
long shallow deep
ironstitched
ghost ship
making waves
4.
look what
wash up
sea
two daughter
one son
one man
far out
NIGHT
1.
sun set pastiche
80s retro
2.
late night
babywalking
one house
up lit
late night
big shed
kid red
icypole
3.
young man
out with friends
no ID
4.
foreshore fireworks
city sky falling
5.
us out
afterdark
streets store
tomorrow’s heat
---
We had a night in Dromana at my sister-in-law's husband's family's holiday house. The painting above is actually Beaumaris, not Dromana, but looking out at the hazy heat this morning, Streeton's paintings were in my head.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
The BFFs hit their late 30s
For Z
She lives on the island
of our shared childhood
Something is making her sad
She's been brained
By the gods of trouble
An ocean is not impossible
We could go for gold
In the telephone olympics
If days were dealt
Like hands of cards
I used to get
A royal flush of her
Now she draws
A two of kids (and me a three)
There's hearts and spades
(labour, love)
Not many diamonds between us
And now she's clubbed
Oh gods of chemical sadness
Watch out
My voice is in her head too
She lives on the island
of our shared childhood
Something is making her sad
She's been brained
By the gods of trouble
An ocean is not impossible
We could go for gold
In the telephone olympics
If days were dealt
Like hands of cards
I used to get
A royal flush of her
Now she draws
A two of kids (and me a three)
There's hearts and spades
(labour, love)
Not many diamonds between us
And now she's clubbed
Oh gods of chemical sadness
Watch out
My voice is in her head too
Friday, January 27, 2012
Rhubarb
for Kelly Gardiner
1.
A clutch of rhubarb, pale green, rose blush.
Heirloom: divided from her uncle’s crown
And dispersed among the family, now grown
In this garden plot, so green and lush.
The bush, the river. Summer’s fertile hush.
We drank coffee, talked of writing, and now
She cuts me several stalks to carry down
To where the car is parked. There is no rush.
The vegetable bouquet fills my front seat.
I take it home and cook it, soft and sweet,
In the cast iron pot that was my mum’s.
Perhaps the bub will have this as a treat
Or it could be a foil to fatty meat
Look how dark and deep the colour runs.
The evening holds the heat, I sweat and stir,
And think of the mild morning spent with her.
2.
So, in the fourteenth century the seeds
Were worth far more than opium, it’s said,
Indeed a potent drug from what I’ve read
It cured fevers, plagues and serviced other needs.
In the early eighteen hundreds close to Leeds
An apothecary finally got ahead
By learning how to grow it in a shed
Now rhubarb grows as easily as weeds.
They used as you’d expect good horse manure
“Night soil” was also merde du jour.
Let’s move on! And turn to other art
Now sugar was more readily procured
A recipe from sources quite obscure
Says cook it as one would a gooseberry tart.
In my dad’s wartime town a household tried
To stew, like chard, the leaves. They sadly died.
1.
A clutch of rhubarb, pale green, rose blush.
Heirloom: divided from her uncle’s crown
And dispersed among the family, now grown
In this garden plot, so green and lush.
The bush, the river. Summer’s fertile hush.
We drank coffee, talked of writing, and now
She cuts me several stalks to carry down
To where the car is parked. There is no rush.
The vegetable bouquet fills my front seat.
I take it home and cook it, soft and sweet,
In the cast iron pot that was my mum’s.
Perhaps the bub will have this as a treat
Or it could be a foil to fatty meat
Look how dark and deep the colour runs.
The evening holds the heat, I sweat and stir,
And think of the mild morning spent with her.
2.
So, in the fourteenth century the seeds
Were worth far more than opium, it’s said,
Indeed a potent drug from what I’ve read
It cured fevers, plagues and serviced other needs.
In the early eighteen hundreds close to Leeds
An apothecary finally got ahead
By learning how to grow it in a shed
Now rhubarb grows as easily as weeds.
They used as you’d expect good horse manure
“Night soil” was also merde du jour.
Let’s move on! And turn to other art
Now sugar was more readily procured
A recipe from sources quite obscure
Says cook it as one would a gooseberry tart.
In my dad’s wartime town a household tried
To stew, like chard, the leaves. They sadly died.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Let them come: an Aussie "bush" ballad for Australia Day
Inspired by Firstdog
There's a small wooden boat that is barely afloat
On an ocean of sorrow and dreams.
While Australians vote, the PM clears her throat
And hope comes apart at the seams.
They will never arrive, neither dead nor alive,
If our politics bring them undone.
Let their dreaming survive, let their drowned one's revive,
Let them come, oh let them all come!
The borders aren't there, it's just water and air,
And land, water, air should be free.
There's plenty to share in this place "rich and rare",
And after all, we all came here by sea.
So let that boat reach us, let us learn what they'll teach us,
Let them come, oh please let them come.
And when they beseech us, let's not give them speeches,
Let us take them, let's take every one.
Yes we'll pack up the lies, let ourselves recognise
Our own selves in the depths of their faces.
In welcoming skies let a blue flag arise:
Shelter here, in our wide open spaces.
There's a small wooden boat that is barely afloat
On an ocean of sorrow and dreams.
While Australians vote, the PM clears her throat
And hope comes apart at the seams.
They will never arrive, neither dead nor alive,
If our politics bring them undone.
Let their dreaming survive, let their drowned one's revive,
Let them come, oh let them all come!
The borders aren't there, it's just water and air,
And land, water, air should be free.
There's plenty to share in this place "rich and rare",
And after all, we all came here by sea.
So let that boat reach us, let us learn what they'll teach us,
Let them come, oh please let them come.
And when they beseech us, let's not give them speeches,
Let us take them, let's take every one.
Yes we'll pack up the lies, let ourselves recognise
Our own selves in the depths of their faces.
In welcoming skies let a blue flag arise:
Shelter here, in our wide open spaces.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Synopsis
It’s a city, it’s an island, this girl is looking for her cat.
She’s also being haunted, I should probably mention that.
A girl she knew in high school, but didn’t know that well
It’s all a kind of metaphor for some kinda sorta hell
I think she’s got a boyfriend, in fact they share a flat.
But mostly what she’s doing is she’s looking for her cat.
She’s also being haunted, I should probably mention that.
A girl she knew in high school, but didn’t know that well
It’s all a kind of metaphor for some kinda sorta hell
I think she’s got a boyfriend, in fact they share a flat.
But mostly what she’s doing is she’s looking for her cat.
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