Wednesday, July 24, 2019

Jeffree Michael #92 Owls see air

We move
through space
split leveled at best just two
while birds inhabit at least three
how then do we know when others are here

perhaps a feeling a sound
maybe a smell
sixth sense
chill or disturbance
before we eventually see

other sensory interactions
are hard to imagine
it's deeper than we think
so I thought it must be
a combination of these

coming around a corner
or before entering full view
something quite
special happens
suddenly you're watching me pee

are shapes imperceivably redrawn
when we enter
reformed momentarily like E = mc2
every molecule and orbit realigns
to accommodate each other

like when an eclipse
I imagine is seen only by me
an agreement seems made
somehow understood
by witness alone

how do creatures see us
before we see them
if not by feathering the silent ruffles
of unexpected forms
obscured from view

creeping up slowly
setting-off reactions
as molecular breezes
buffer so slightly
little currents bump here and there

some will say
that's not special
happens every day
cause and effect
you know...

owls see air

image: Owls see air  /  washes stains paint / recycled map / silk ribbon / tape / JMS 

Tuesday, July 23, 2019

Kit Kelen #1300 - the journey through the guts again - for the field guide / around the world in eighty clouds

the journey through the guts again
for the field guide to Australian clouds 
(around the world in eighty clouds)

day after the Yuen Long white shirt attacks on democracy, human rights and bystanders

from a top deck
see the whole city
involuntary motion
building towards
synapse leap
above yet in
the myriad container hive
head full of here-I-was
this was a life

under and overpass
this pounding
a driving of piles
or say sun

top of the refrigerated truck
seems to be sealed with chewing gum

tawdry and fading the old blocks

tug tows dredge
and everywhere the water is
steel rubs on tyre on stone

it’s diesel pointing all the way up
whatever of heaven there was now just this

aeroplanes majestic gentle
seem slower than the traffic stalled

it is all apparatus
to teach the nature of illusion

city still and green where it can
a billowing as in hard skirts
blue above
clouds over surviving and gone
and me too

tomorrow up above
now gone 

Frances Carleton #47 - reflection


I had a supremely sh*t day.

Monday, July 22, 2019

Frances Carleton #47 - love

I can’t love you
like you need it
my precious
first experiences -
not sure I ever did


Kit Kelen #1299 - back in the dream (jetlag series)

back in the dream
jetlag series

in a storm
out of words

the little place has a tail, runs

steps over the chasm
and the ladder climb

it’s hard to find the king
take a bed for instance

I think I know
I must have woken with it

back in the dream
a vast lost sea
hook lowered down to rescue
vanishing as air

I dream so many lost things
things gone

a pill for sunlight
and there might be stars

I am filling my hands
again with the sea

dream I am almost
locked in a dark cupboard
like a broom
might have been a toilet once
push pull
could take the whole house down
I’m rattling to get free

to the dream
or from it  

this room is forgotten now
and I forget to come out
that’s how I and this little room
and the dream
the world I knew
and the the worlds that will be
all of us
are lost 

Sunday, July 21, 2019

Frances Carleton #46 - tears

in darkness
hear each pearl of water
patter on canvas -
remembering you
rainfall inside


Kit Kelen #1298 - the wave (jetlag series)

the wave
jetlag series

the wave
the door
the hole you dig

slip seamlessly
and hope unseen

the skipping on the spot
till trip
must be a lot like being born

two points of view
the tearing

climb tree
cannot help

there’s nothing is another thing
but here we are again

it’s not the door you know
but runs the switch
somehow so in
so out again

slip, scat, scoot
run to and from

the griefs ahead
in there yet

and still I cannot go

passport bruised
the face worn off
must guess the country

it’s not just this old world revolves

see glimmer through
and ride
once crested
come under the colours

it cracks
then the roaring
come to me light

have a topple now
but no
things were smoothed out
steady on
chance passed

new ticket
not my kind of crime

the wave
the door
the hole you dig

a kind of music I can’t help

multifaceted gleam

her reading lamp
behind my lids

halos float saintlessly there 

Saturday, July 20, 2019

Frances Carleton #45 - finger

face contorted 
middle finger extended
flicking flipping
off that man - 
controlling own pleasure 


Kit Kelen #1297 - nightlines (jetlag series)

for the jetlag series

after a tin day
airborne in drink
all hours and any

I am the ship and the sea

often adrift
or lets say self

and after decipher

where in the world
and not

fall from the mirror
or lose it

run waves
in themselves

slip away slip away

never see yourself gone

certain lines are sung
to be remembered
but I forget them here

nowhere now
the unknown for complexity
there cannot be a clock

dreaming knew
cant know whats lost

it was your not properly
pursuing attention

fall out of the world to begin  

so small
I cant be far from sleep
I cant be very far

Kerri Shying R #648 - half mast

Half mast

I would say some things    I would say
at 57      two decades out from
a genocide   I watch the photos

from the 4 real holidays in
Cambodia    on insta       itch
my eye where the   punks
made complaint     my first
Kampuchean   I recall his
feet his hair   his eyeglasses
the reason he was in the camps

nothing is beyond      is my
knowing  if you keep the cash
flowing      and    

no-one is coming
for you    unless    it's to ensure
your corpses don't   pile too
high    in plain sight

Frances Carleton #44 - 3am

Staring at shadows on the ceiling
I curse your name
Recalling our last encounter
Six hours ago

I request, not knowing
size or what will be presented
you always fit my hand
Thawing resolve to give you up

My black beauty
arriving with intoxicating perfume
embracing all of me

Clasping your girth
Taking glass, ceramic, silicon sheath
to my lips
creamy warmth glides
down my throat
heart beats faster
my skin flushes
excitement builds
… to satisfaction

You always leave me
wanting more ...
but unable to appease my need
… for sleep

Oh you’re harsh
Mistress Co-ffee

Sent from my iPhone

Friday, July 19, 2019

Kit Kelen #1296 - calligraph


yes the river is big
we all know how it goes
so many have been here before
and punting, under sail, putt putt along

snows and a hillside of houses
some sage sits in spare strokes of a tree

and theres your truth
it floats
like heavens bridge over the real
so that we may cross

which opening
leans by oneself where
naked in the forks
drift mind from writing
to signs unknown

freeway falls

things are as we make them broken
find ourselves in this
the more and more
gather, toss, gather
choke down

so seas are lost and rise

pencil lines lead on towards
we come from pixel mist
under the wave
a forest is feathered
with just such words

Macao again
pictures of consumption
sky of old thunder tricks
all consuming

kindly doom we populate
under ourselves
never get over

but if one swims the street
takes moon at face value
if one scratches until
then the wreckage shows
so we must know who we are 

Jeffree Michael #91 Landed

At first they came from the south
later all directions

undercover squatters
ambitious freeloaders

them who couldn't pay or could still
unable to make a go on the otherside

landed moored invaded they
descended clippers steamers docked

in ports cities and small towns already
loaded so flooded and flocked inland

the smell of promise so strong compelled
these arrivers to take new Eden as their own

what lay ahead unfurled cruel and hidden hardships
heartbreak dispossession to all who live inside her

though time and time again the locals walked on
country and sang the tracks and trails into culture

the lore and knowledge of one sun an ancient history
remained unimaginable to those who claimed it theirs

the blind and landed cannot really see or know
to walk on and with country again and again is the same


learn sorry poetry
dance sing share
sit down
go back

revolution is earthed

image: The Bridge /  acrylic paint, perspex, oil paint, found gold seal, silk, braid on canvas 30x30cm  /  JMS 

Kerri Shying R - # 647 - out breath

out breath

the sight of you is updraft
to the ache  the night crawler
right below the skin  that
somehow   all the nests
were emptied  yellow chicks
supplanted   by the hotness
that brought us wave
upon wave of koels

the north    again
potent invader
efficient   in managing
resources towards
the big the loud
were we all worn out
by the end
by the time the useless rain
fell down

or did someone gather
up   the tiniest of
the leavings   to nest

Thursday, July 18, 2019

Kit Kelen #1295 - splash animal / ekphrastic - Jackson Pollock's #14

splash animal

Jackson Pollocks #14

youre dark as ink
where day wont touch

under the monster sundial palette  

in the drink
you come to this

death fronted

no teeth and yet
shape framed to prowl and growl

something threatened
a little nap

it looms
and bleeds the weave

a wraith writhe round
this some say soul

soaked in the stink

and having come this far
must sink  

Frances Carleton #43 - group therapy

in the circle
he sits ankles crossed
after reflection
old wounds heal -
forgiveness for self


Kerri Shying R # 646 - my bird

my bird

bring me back   wriggling grub
in beak   my yellow wattle bird

arriving timely as the batmobile
one now two   call out thrips from

top of tree to where I stand these
sun-warm linens    gathered

yes I hear you    call me on
gentle voices    time is ever


Jeffree Michael #90 Didgeridoo

We call it breathing
up filling on oxygen
keeping one spare
holding tight any leaks
intaking new breath
releasing ever so slowly
not now
this en-torso
modus operandi
re sounds
oral estuaries
masterfully so
what was once
just air

dog bark

Wednesday, July 17, 2019

Frances Carleton #42 - white mark

he sits alone
travelling for business
she dines solo
a meal prepared for her -
wedding ring removed


Kit Kelen #1294 - jamais vu too

jamais vu too

do you ever look at todays date
and think that must be a long time ago
but I must have missed it somehow 
something about the numbers
as if they have already been
that or we are far in the future

it could be the market, exam score
heartrate  numbers to which
we can never count

days we cant be where we are
moments that cannot be now

Clark Gormley #107 fata morgana

unaltered pixels
proof of the impossible
that’s what floats my boat

Tuesday, July 16, 2019

Kit Kelen #1293 my déjà voodoo

my déjà voodoo

a little poem for Geoff Page

won’t ever be finishing itself
a piece of work one might say
but cut and come again
head like the song you know already

tree and stone and stream and sky
out of the blue clouds come over   
just for instance or music sets off
hard line through a fog of chord

all the familiar crew
these rag and bone creatures
were sometime my pets
run the circus now

it’s only in echoes we live
only through the mirror we find what’s to give

midnight’s that glimmer
where the dream forgets me
leave inklings where I’ve been, will be
I can’t remember here

a stretch so slow of the imagination
might not notice you’re among
the most familiar things
where always you have been before

in picnic woods of somebody’s porridge
old friend sunlight shows
glad that you’ve already met so many
I hope you’ll come again

all of us are waiting here
that the journey might begin