Saturday, June 30, 2018

Ken Trimble # 10 If ( inspired by song La Maza lyrics by Silvio Rodrigeuz, sung by Mercedes Sosa

If I didn't believe in madness
If I didn't believe in the thrill and dread
If I didn't believe  in every crack of light
If I didn't believe in the hope and fear
of every lost path
If I didn't believe in the scales,
in the reason of balance
If I didn't believe in my road
If I didn't believe the space between
sound
If I didn't believe in the silence.

What would be
What would sanity be without
madness
What would living be without
death
What would light be without
night
What would hope be without
love
What would balance be without
falling
What would space be without
stars
What would silence be without
the roar.

If I didn't believe in desire
If I didn't believe in what I believe
If I didn't believe in goodness
If I didn't believe in every wounded
soul
If I didn't believe to even bother
If I didn't believe in listening
If I didn't believe in what stays
If I didn't believe in what fights .

What would be..

Kit Kelen #912 - rooster mechanics



912
rooster mechanics


all this that the shed
angles of tin
and smoke to stand in
half paddock already

last of the fixed stars grazing

who knows which kiss is death
a peck?

cluck this
chicks scatter
how's my comb?

numbers?
have them in my head
a leap as if in flight

even a fire will teach patience
distance has a long way to come

a traipse I call it, don't you?

so many degrees
keep cranking
keep cranking

and don't you even touch

it's this way ladies
shy twice until

chicken or the egg?
you choose

from other fences far in rain
call as if kingdom too

there's some silence I won't be
that's between of breath

this sun is a problem we solve
all under heaven at work

a doodle-day
a doodle-doo
each acre subtly different

long winter's wish
by valley mapped

we'll all be in the soup

Ken Trimble # 9 A pair of ratbags

In our love
there was madness
laughter and death, and a
lot of weird shit.

The struggle to love
strangled the love out of
our love.

It was a fever
that went out of control,
your wild heart
sent me crazy.

At Salisbury's bookshop
I bought you a book
of love poems by Neruda.

That day was some day.
We were doomed from
that first kiss.

We argued on the bridge,
there was death on our lips
when we said goodbye.




Friday, June 29, 2018

Kit Kelen #911 - notes towards ZOOM


911
(notes towards)
zoom...

a side of me is lamb
and in the shanks I'm pony

from sparrow's fart
till cows come home
I'm busy bee
I'm bower bird
electrifying eel

and great galah in treetops
some may well say batty
I monkey with
well... something fishy
often play the goat

bright, bushy-tailed,
but whose?
(bear with me)
and over shoulder
pookah too

there are those days when I breathe fire
to rise from my own ashes
but those are names we must not say

dinosaur likewise
call me old fashioned
to beaver at the dam this way

or little beast front bottom department
meerkat to attention

cock-of-the-walk
and bristle comb

lock horns
paw dust
see red

see all
it's eagle-I
and landed once on the moon's bright side

come cosy
burrow in
a nervous tick
or waspish

puss-in-boots
a lick for paws
and lap it up
while test the claws

mousey
dear doe-eyed
vixen oft
and cougar later
drink fish
ratty

weekends lie in hammock, sloth
play possum
till you're up a tree

peacock preen
then swan the party

am I rabbiting on?
I-turtle held the world up
I-tortoise beat the hare

strut, fret

though you may say ham actor
each plays his/her most dogged part
hot on heels

pig out if there's handy trough
simply sometimes wolf down

then I am mammoth
whale

toad in the hole too
frogsbother spawn

at whose pace in this rain?
I crow

so many of me are to choose

and still a side of me is lamb
lie down with the lion
in shanks all pony
stubborn as ... guess who?

and subtle sly, alliterate
please let the grass grow high

in the office worm
weave webs

inch ant
to warm the hive

just peck at chicken feed

all these friends I am
delicious!
bring herd home

you're foxed?
be owl-wise in the know

capture me in your mind's eye
can't very well but help

goulash in the pot
with Bambi, Skippy, Babe

yes grasshopper

eat me, drink me

I've come by shanks
from sparrow's fart
still part of me
blackfaced lamb

cannibal snack
or vegan treat?
taste this
and you decide

Ken Trimble #8 Footsteps brother

I still have trouble at her death,
I saw a body with blue feet,
her eyes were open and her mouth
did not speak.

My numbness knew no time,
the night before I massaged her
feet,

and the night before that
I watched Close encounters,
a boat lay on its side in Mongolia.

I had sunk my fourth can of beer
while Dreyfuss carved his mystic mash.

I was getting drunk while you were
getting dying.

Bruised and battered, body born to die,
I wanted to taste the fire on my tongue.

If the water was clear enough,
if the water was still enough
perhaps I could have seen
the warning sounds on your
milked breast.

That night I cried to the wind
and sleep.

Footsteps before the October dawn,
brother, brother, our mother has died.

James Walton #104 after the Solstice




a full moon comes
the sky wrung out in cold acrylic
a communion wafer

all day it has lingered
blown out of the night
now in anchor against drift

whispering

the falling point
of water
is the distance
between
a velocity of tears
and the upbeat
from anticipation
to departure

evening mist tangles wipers

transfers the rest of my life
into a slower arc
a tardis convergent

this glove of Winter’s challenge
a beauty spot freckle
horizon dawdle at light fall

your animal self knows the truth

make fire eat a warm meal
love settles in the spaces
of the splotchy engraves of living

the lunar tease can wait




Thursday, June 28, 2018

Kerri Shying R #476 - the winter here is sunshine gloved up inside that velvet ( for Gail Hennessy)


for Gail Hennessy

I expected those clouds today  as full as purple damsons
  hung ripe and low across the flatness of the rooftops
Islington   Hamilton   Mayfield   to split      into warm
  gold  juiced-up sunset   rather than the rain    that
came and went   a ceremony for alighting from the car

the winter here is sunshine  gloved up inside that velvet

that face   peeping out enough  to stop us straying off to
   snow to   other lovers   ski field  holidays    tropical   islands
the the stuff of dour people      here    we make damp fires
    the most we have  to find  in May   our gum boots 
this rush of plums    the red of Poinciana  kisses    wait

Ken Trimble # 7 Notice

I noticed the junkie scratching his arm on the train,
I noticed the drunk singing sweet Jesus,
I noticed the hookers on Grey Street,
I noticed the studs in her nipples,
and I noticed the books on her shelves,
Emma Goldman, Patti Smith,
I noticed people drowning
off Christmas Island,
I noticed the rise of bigotry and hate,
and I heard the sounds of storm troopers
marching through our streets,
I noticed the last gasp
of a dying woman,
and a child crying in her crib,
I noticed the war being played out,
entertainment for the bored,
I noticed the flood,
I noticed the fire,
I noticed the cyclone,
and I noticed the tangerine sky as
the forest went up in smoke,
and I noticed the darkness enveloping our
earth,
I noticed the light.  

Kit Kelen #910 - because I am soon vanishing

910
because I am soon vanishing
living the sixth great extinction 
 
for Kerri and Ken

knit tea
sing Spring
fold out the stream

bugger the creaking bones

and with ferocious calm
let's call it

I like the wobble on its axis

a martyrdom of trees

and then when we've buggered the place
and the weather comes indoors

I like my innids where they are
no shells bombs bullets please

the turnaround the fire and tilt
that's just for politeness

and we Malthusian, too much
in a fruitfly doom

still edge on to live
that's where we are
all a comical leer
still standing

for plastic
and that's a wrap

be where I am and can

knit tea
sing Spring
fold out the stream

bugger the creaking bones

Wednesday, June 27, 2018

Kerri Shying R # 475 I am the inside-outside electric I'm a moment's notice ( For Roberta P)


For Roberta P

flapping washing  in the cold blue sky   the magpie yard
of fruit trees    eucalypts    three walls  of theatre sets  the
other people’s sheds   all   triangular rooflines   and corrugated
metal      fiberglass  just veiling    doppleganger shadows 
planting     mending     tinkering    power points on porches

I am the inside-outside   electric    I’m a moment’s notice

ready  for the multi-culture   of my herbed kebab   my
flayed Moroccan chicken   and  vege snags   felafel 
I make hommos   you’d think you died and went to heaven
the end Endeavour  left us     just to be precise    how nice
if it were   pick and mix   in afterlives  as well

Ken Trimble #6 Yes

We sat on the beach at Skye
looking out to where mountains
stared back at us. I was expecting
knights on horseback
charging through the mist.

Our picnic began with a swig
of wine from the bottle with
the cork floating around an ocean of
pinot noir.

We cut the cheese and tore the bread,
it was our way of celebrating communion.

An hour passed or was it two?
We never spoke
it would have ruined it,
language always does.

The following morning
I walked with her on a country road.

I leant towards her and kissed her.
She smiled and said yes so I kissed
her again.

Kit Kelen #909 - the place in my dream is home



909
the place in my dream is home 
 

and dreaming
years of the night
come to me
weather stuck
as again
creek's run
here's a book of smoke

a home in this dream
where I've never been before

muddied boot
Lisbon subway
criminals we are
who travel in dreams
traffic in
all animal at it

there's never
how we got to here

but rain comes tapping
footsteps pass by

bird, leaf
matched at

whisker tin
rose smoke
bullock beside

here's my history cloud stuck
God bless where they've gone

it sobers

the dream is a vanishing
this is my home

hung up for power lines
tennis shoes flung

and through the dream
a trickle creek

stood mist
shadow lapped

in the fallen reflect

imagine if a road went by
cannot break our spell

here's a new day
worked to light
must build the fire again

alone in the naked dream
sometimes find voice
tucked in with under this

slept this far then why not on?

what's left

a glimmer
safe in our own light

wake not yet day
still warm from

go back go back
to another dream's light
for a season we'll come to yet