Sunday, February 18, 2018

Transient - 4K, UHD, 1000FPS

Kerri Shying R # 414 - The Tick

The Tick 

outside    exists
my round
engorged   body

the sketch in pencil
crooked kicking useless
at the air

all head  I think I am
unknowing  what bloat
hangs  beyond the skinline
where this  mutual


compels my jaws
to close

never letting go
never turning off
in the air

Kit Kelen #778 - everything in the dream is true

everything in the dream is true 

all elsewhere gone
but stumbling in and from

the scherzo is a nocturne

in another clock
someone is counting

itch, turn
as if world were

when they bury me
so stir

and the teacups
the beam from which

all elsewhere gone

fold under

over and sniff
follow furrow too

till itch and down

time is standing in its lesser cot
kennel it
keep up

we with the tree all climbed

run after sunlight
be pursued

so we come to falling
smoke so many pounds a puff

early hours adolescent
when you need to go

a deathbed toddler squirms for words
they're not to follow now

crackles through static
the light of day

music's never understood
it's lovely though to be

in a wood where I paint savages

all shapes to colour
till sleep comes
and in itself all gone

wake to play
and sleep to this

everything true
in the dream

Rob Schackne #589 - "Guess me too"

Guess me too
tomorrow is
a long long time
I will bring
an Australian bee
(what a day)

on mine
this honey
let there be commerce

something like
a record collection
& find them

Saturday, February 17, 2018

Rob Schackne #588 - "But what do I know"

But what do I know
of hessian empires
their bags or contents
the coarse skin
itches and rashes
the malevolence
ambulant or not
how it feels inside
prance like a filly
hobbled and bagged
on my skin the yard
quivers each touch

Rob Schackne #587 - "I would go out"

I would go out
look for treasure
a speck of mica

was all it took
fleck of bright feather
I'm growing old
so much did I find

the treasure I left
my eyes are dimmed

more over heaven
the sky is so blue
this rain is precious
why couldn't I love you

Kerri Shying R # 413 - Commuter


these  faces      drowsing
on the 3.15
to Newcastle   weatherbeaten
mimics of past bunny-rugged
     your lids
in trust

Kit Kelen #777 - what if there were just one truth?

what if there were just the one truth?

what if there were just one truth
and we were all known to it
like a law all equally applying

what if one had come to tell
and time stood all around this
glowed like a halo

you wouldn't need to mention it
you wouldn't find us here
but nod yes
pride all selves with knowing
and sure as
it was ever thus
and always
be the way

took tablets
for flea in God's ear

will be still
won't you?

catch manna

hatch no questions
but obey

what if meaning were given this world
invisible creatures fluttered
soul stood up to beg

what if you could pinch yourself
put doubt aside
go exegetic chorus
count on all expounded

there wouldn't be
what if
at all
if you could
just believe

Friday, February 16, 2018

Kit Kelen #776 -- I long to be outlived

I long to be outlived

this bothers God so much

steeped in what was
as I am

no one's ancestor
but breathe until I'm dust

here's how it goes, the after-all
no blowing off this world

but I should want immortal

is there some spirit still unwords me?
doubt has hope to pray for it

you're half way
and half way of that
you're the arrow

I'm the tide
risen and down
I'm the wood laid
leaf to fall
I'm the trouble with

well slept
longer in the tooth
gods' ages all as dreamt

creak in the breeze
here afloat
and fixed for an horizon

the wreckers have this planet
for parts
who is there to argue?

no lips
no someone
no name of the tree

every god's forgotten by name
word for the thing lost
categories called off

all whirled in a world
till that's done too

one day the sun shoots through
this is a far fact

as every cloud yearns
gives and gone

to reign over us, saved
and noble, gracious

it's deep in the bones
to want a world after
be sent victorious

stones on another attest
without the least inscription

my pyramid is all these years
and it too will be dust

spore of the stars
will the oneness be called?
or will we yet be spared?

Thursday, February 15, 2018

Kit Kelen #775 - gentle with a self

gentle with a self
he receives a custodial sentence

in all the much-to-do

world spun on without

I'm the parrot
sent to brighten
and breeze edge at the front

in charge

let's half naked with the day
and further on upon reflection

let's not forget the night
all lines to it

and firstly up
as all selves

so many things are my beginning

always being eaten away
roll around a clock

in little ball
as ever apt

snuggle up
make moment

things grow up
and I go under

it's so easily said

this must be All Selves Day

the one idea
expands expires
and then you piss it in

if past the little rounded sleep
there isn't some better guess
but be here


and take time

be taken with

is it not music makes?
as through the crackle come

like trees reach
limbs in the up and up

we make it
out of accidents
like word and light

so hunch hope
come gentle to the fray

one day
what I could do
is done

so gentle with a self
till then

go gently to the day

Wednesday, February 14, 2018

Rob Schackne #586 - Après Un Rêve

Après Un Rêve

feather attached
my nerves
the feather's grey
so light I throw it away
rolling well the wind
let me follow

the strange
the dry
where you go
let me see

Kit Kelen #774 - giving up religion

giving up religion

caveat emptor
carpe diem

congenital it's been
mono mostly
the ancestors came down with it

poly in the pipe
and pass it round
like billy boys
until hooray

to buggery at least

and blows
dowses out
the ghosts in the fire
(that's bush telly for you)

let's all mock their religious garments
and much good may it do

some kind of peace could come of gloom

look up in the trees and you'll see them
ecto-mists are worthy, gone
like evidence you've eaten
and taken some trouble with
so nineteenth century

put faith in doubt
and still you'll know
a thing or two

that death is after all
not a thing you'll feel
and there'll be no regret

Nietzsche he went mad with it

and all those angels
halo hats
saints for halitosis

there's love
be golden with it
(strip a new world)
a god of that!
nice try

or smiling
on your tangled legs
that would get you wry

the temple girls
are all allure
I love to jangle bangle

it's all of a mind's eye
bend the unwilling

there's yoga in these bones yet
I've seen cats and cows at it

so many ways to come

and gods in everything
that's just common sense

have we an understanding?

we all need rice
you light incense

I like a tutelary spirit
and daemons -- they're quite personal
often run the show

totem, possum
bear this brunt
to brew your superstitions
syncretic's always best

the prophets tend to set alight
and have been known to pillage

what temptation - the eternal
all forgiveness, lotsa love
tread water
lie down with a lion
growl stew
not so many of them
little lamb

get pregant with god
be blameless

or point your head the one way
everyone does and you're one

the oneness is a terrible master
gives you that two-party problem
pepsi and coke
woollies and coles

manna sandwich?
I'll have ambrosia with that

I was in the cave
and I saw that flicker
truth bung again
let's patch it with

you'd never believe
soon leads to faith

must I feather nest?

long since they've given up on me
nothing to give to gild it
temple and spire
I took
the clock and the orchestra

a world grew round
and sometimes spun
my simple head

all green for up
and cloudsworth

gone again
I saw to it
I saw

after the sky's abolished
still religion's there

won't pay its taxes
fucks the young
it really is a problem
this attitude of mine

I hear music for a wedding
and call the creature stirred my heart

and what if there is what there is?
even if you cannot see
though could be finding out

how disappointing this world is
and as I live and breathe

next week I will give up polemics

let me tell you
it was a journey
but I'm in the garden now

Tuesday, February 13, 2018

Kit Kelen #773 - two kinds

two kinds

for Virginia and Jane

collecting, neglecting
shed, afire

pyre people
and the pyramid kind

something eats away
or the heart expands
like a little sun
all engulf in flame

till then
who stand and wait
still serve

some in the shadows
some themselves shine

some like a tasty dish of ground glass
others will smash the beaker-full over you

away with the fairies
and cows come roost

alive to opportunity
some shun still
stand off out of my sun would you

some give both barrels
some are stung

fools fall for anything
wise guys wink

doormats and arseholes
all must choose

position fixed and then the floaters
you can't flush away

brush them
and flies were where they've been

two kinds
the spare and the expanding

distracted, eye on the ball
and follow it down
to rabbit hutch
or hell

of appetite
and under it

I can't sit in all these chairs
I cannot bear to watch

and one unkind

who cough
or doctor
come for grief
laugh off

the workers bite
the hands that feed
the bosses cook
their goose

poor schmucks they've fired

two kinds
the blinded
and better, a poke in the eye
the belly fish slap

it's golden

dead on their feet

all the us-and-themsters
those who disneyfy

the gleaming castles all for them
why not place have a flutter

those who make up words like that

the natured and the nurtured
spruikers and those taken in 
no one stands the mountain up
but some knock and go in

all slaves of destiny
of capital
next crust

and/or unaware

the blissed
and go to blazes

those to roast
and on the rocks

dead on their feet
and the knees worn down

some preservered in spirits

mossed and scree squashed
first melt washed

dichotomisers, holists

who muck
who live the slops

legend and lunching
you won't get the cork back

market, undertow
this little piggy
and a big bad wolf

the parliament and its under privileged

sky pilots and the woad blue pagans
worship you as soon as

and on your side

the cheering and the tinnitus crew 

the tossers
and too much admired

those come up
and must come down

here's luck
and here's comeuppance come
the slink through few

highly strung
big bass beat

mousey and Broom-hilda chasing
stood on a chair for the clock run up

who war with words
or silence

stand up for selves
or else go down

better out of it
all in

those who want it both ways
zombies are fence sitters

the living lost
the dead remembered
the dead wrong
dread right

myself I am with phone
and ringing

you are ringing off

Monday, February 12, 2018

Rob Schackne #585 - "There's no reason for this"

There's no reason for this
to know why the cockatoos
have steamed into nearby trees

their screeching lawlessness
I don't know why it's so loud
in my room I turn on Fauré
push around a poem or two

no idea what they're saying
the end of high branches
an open window listens
the darkness comes
a microwave goes ding

Kit Kelen #772 - lit stillness

lit stillness

for a first thing

air and light our friends

in ridges
and the ache within

of the daydrab trees

teeter from a cliff

lie in
sun comes
it cracks the day

like breeze bliss
windows open
curtains drawn

that's mind's eye
and you wolf it down

clouds carry the daylight
all through the hours

how wakefully you've waited
as well you dreamt of this

till nature's call won't be forestalled
till breakfast beckons us away

and now the track
is shone
so golden
who wouldn't think
to go

Kit Kelen #771 - Megalong Clouds

Megalong clouds

they have come
a sky's worth
under them a line pale blue
they are an almost script

pass right to left
before we wrote ourselves
and sometimes stood
still to scan

a picture you can live in

they are the telling of some seasons
paper laid like a lake in

we have wings above, below

and where the script is crowded
must have been some plot there

everything under is scribbled down too
and the eye is a line
when we go on foot
draw a line

square a circle
under eternity

think we head in one direction
we go round and round

read till the blur is past we can know
until the lights are out

Sunday, February 11, 2018

Kit Kelen #770 -- Katoomba cliffwalk

Katoomba cliffwalk

in rocks among the forest
not still buts falls
and leaf wing flit
where dark comes past the day
all upwards with cliffs
they're the suddenness
now I've come down
roots hoofsmooth here
all fern beside
legs stretched
the fallen
all logs and leaves
stringybark draped
we are breathless up
make a circuit of ourselves
can only be seasons since
a forest of the rain was made
smell it thick with summer dry
hear the last frog
dusk proclaiming
how his hers was a tribe

Kerri Shying R # 412 - Pricks


collapse around me    dollar world
I was born into   tuppence 
ha’penny      came the day

the Rural Bank  they took my copper pennies
with their swoop of kangaroo

each a palm load
for a baby hand

my pocket money  gave me back
this one cool twenty cent

platypus the barb in your feet
poison    is that when it began

Saturday, February 10, 2018

Kerri Shying R # 411 - Good day, sunshine

Good day, sunshine

It is the outdoors for me this day the garden
these bees the water on the path

how many seeds
are calling out to grow    who made me
the agent of this fate  
 don’t run ahead of yourself now 

the bullrush in the pond 
planted    fresh   from on high
product of a passing bird’s arse

run and play
the dirt   my feet 
dog rolling in the scent
of    who knows

he watches me
in congress
with the box of glowing sound

his black pebble eyes   decry
the indoors     this obsession
all that
connecting    the dots


leverage the root hairs
 plant myself
  in the space  where
I am to grow 

Rob Schackne #584 - "Miracle waits for the end"

Miracle waits for the end
assembles like butterflies

the humidity and wind
there's yes you will forget

setting down a list of acts
any sort of bingo page
Aguanta la lengua
the mop on the floor
why the dumbest fuck
is like a thunderstorm
lamps out for a second
the cheering is for us

Friday, February 9, 2018

Rob Schackne #583 - "What do I know"

What do I know

a diabolical parade
I count myself a poem
wheelbarrow and feather
my hand my razor
the cry of a cockatoo
no tomorrow writing
the music of the train

who was it passing
the ways I loved you

Kerri Shying R # 410 - The hessian empires

The hessian empires

I can count   on the one hand
that is   free from the wheel of my

all the coffee shops that I
can get in   and please

how I love it

when I wait
among the hessian
of the milk crates

to catch a waitress eye
and she
points to the
 order at the counter

I wish

these  disability devices came
with a rocket launcher
I’d press go

Kit Kelen #769 - Hydro Majestic

Hydro Majestic, Medlow Bath
ii, 2018

the past is this façade and I stand for it
like the pregnant lady on the bus
too young to wear a cap
because mum says I should

a legion paused
ridge hazed to fray

run half a bath for a suggestion
it's by way of curtains framed

a world in strips lit

tracks dust
behind those hills more ridge
you're taken in and stare

clouds carved day first
white limbs reach dead

someone is always been transformed

and too much of a certain flower
mum says, though she's no gardener

today they're blue
it's distance
and gum tree in the air

the track grows over
the flying fox track to the valley farm

we scrambled up down teenage that
and slept in the station waiting room
with filched coal for the fire
and roaches tossed to it
should a passenger come in

the view – the postcard travelled through
rotation, railway, skywalk

and devils of Tasmania made with pipe-cleaners
coloured to suit
all kinds of improvised fun
and tennis for the adults too
though I think I learned here

it's not for the waters
you come back for the view

know that all this
leads on for forever
but not as far as before

I think it's a fire had the waters away
but one might imagine
very Arthur Streeton
I don't mean he was here

some secret liaison in the open air

dad was
before the war
and had a dish named after him
I can't remember which

but too much of a certain flower
mum points out, edging the Three Brothers track
passes by the ruined pool
fey places, faux Edwardian
more Darug really, all this style

and stars bright for remembrance
as if the world had turned

as I recall we never went anywhere
days of full board long gone now
but everything was here

respectable years – mr and mrs
it's hard to see what's near you
and the croquet lawn
and the world's best toilet view

like remembering a childhood sky
some kind of silence is natural here

the cloister upstairs still a morning sauna
east to the highway
white gravel gone
weren't there tall pines all along?

this castle had a forest
one native, one was brought

and there's where I wasn't allowed
pink lemonade came out

amazing how they've shrunk the ballroom
shifted the hunting scenes to the hallway
no walks, no pool, no hobbyhorse,
no Renee (Ri-ni), jazzband
no fancy dress, no Indian get-up

you can't even walk the clifftops now
that's where the legends were told
as if Aborigines were no more
but this bloke talking looked like one
must have been sunshine's familiar

and later with girlfriend, sex on the rocks
and another girlfriend, after that
as if for old time's sake
and still all long ago

sheet of cloud facing
as if you're in them up here
a corporate catch to keep this on

the details black and white writ large
failed deco effort
it could be a boardroom now

catch myself off grazing
paddocks away

same certain flower persisting up here
I won't divulge a colour

poles and wires

rusted like bushranger
big bad banksia
here's a hidden valley

all look
it's just I see

from light this is all far

but the smell I can almost remember
that is quite quite gone

Thursday, February 8, 2018

Kit Kelen #768 - Megalong


is as the eye for far
in glint
in shadows of a forest cast
with cliffs and close
of window, farm

haze line
and hills aside
you know that all this
leads on for forever

and it is a stillness of time
reduced to one day's light
scarp scrape
teeter edge
leaves afire with

you can lie back in the blue fades
as if in the millions of years to this
since a single stone was moved

ridge risen to it
our reflection in the glass

sway of breeze to show day breathes
a dart of wings come close

we timid touch
the very picture of the soul, the south
and no need to explore 

Wednesday, February 7, 2018

Rob Schackne #582 - "What a day it's been"

What a day it's been
leaking liters and frogs
scorpions and strange fish
let's get the tape and bitumen
let's get the order right
first I'll drain the pond
the Wall's been down longer
than it was ever up
will she visit me from China

how much water will we need

Kit Kelen #767 - Sigmar Polke - 'Meteor II' - ekphrastic

Sigmar Polke – 'Meteor II' – ekphrastic

it's easy to be underwater
draw up a shape

you throw a line across

some head submerged
for spooky light

it's the things beginning about
like a tree is bigger than all

that's in the knowing to show

pale to the dot

and hunted home
a fine dish

all we are were shone
a map!

like best foot back
to know we've come

rust in muck

I love a seam to pick

one needs a certain scale to drip
otherwise work flat