Sunday, June 30, 2019

Kit Kelen - broken path

1277
broken path

some mornings
like flowers

a music of just ourselves

can’t help it
imagine by being there

before words
this dance of the gestures

dark random in patches

it was always the empire of where we are

like a breath sometimes inside
the lunge and welcome

instrumental

spread like a stain
and bounce

before this before that
when we were wordless
not ourselves

lots was let go

the gone and the lost

connect
how far back?

some days as if we never were

bearded everywhere once
must have been moss

some day betrayed

high home in a vanish
shown through pages

one dream next to another
tucked in

tides of skin
the tall views

often the feeling of falling
and crouched for a result

so live for a little forever

will we remember here?

Frances Carleton #29 - friends




#beermattanka

Kerri Shying R - # 637 - biodivurbia

biodivurbia

all that rain    I had
expected snails

smiled
to know

blue tongues
must be safe

living    their best life
under brickwork

closed my eyes
held my breath   to magic up
a sunny day

Saturday, June 29, 2019

Kit Kelen #1276 - lean on a tree

1276
lean on a tree


breath catches me there

leans mountainward

grass whispering
birch leaves turn

on the mountain

leans into the worldwhirl

this one’s stopped
half way up
half way down

still sunward
roots infernal

into the stillness we lean
feel sap flow

pressed by the nowhere-else-air

and on
in such socks
as know the way

headlong
fall in

lean to a breeze
we paid for this weather

sheep lean
and wolves once
bears would

lean stone sinking
on a single idea

and as for the bends
lean in
and on

the blueberries begin

lucky to see a star
when there is no night at all 

Frances Carleton #28 - rat


Friday, June 28, 2019

Kit Kelen #1275 - remembering the way

1275
remembering the way

of nameless things

and in order
of the unnumbered

you passed this
and the breeze did

land heavily but not to sink

the how-to-bounce is in the bones

a twig and tripped
one leaf out of season

someone met you
it’s wordless we have been this far

come to the gate of the sun
sheep through

people are here because…
ask also why no one is

somewhere splash

not the same track twice
because it’s where feet fall

birdless words would spoil it all

go where this one star points

a question always leads the way 

Rob Schackne #968 - On The Inside











                On The Inside


                     Are we dead yet
                     our sides inside out
                     & the silence so distant
                     middle splayed to space
                     shells on a remote beach
                     & how are we still alive
                     already inching there
                     day to day just worsens
                     & the tide means nothing
                     sleeping just sleeping
                     the life you wanted

                     to wake in tears

Frances Carleton #27 - dust

love letters
handwritten with ink
coloured envelopes
wend their way north - 
piles gather dust


#tanka

Clark Gormley #105 restraint

messengers who report
that the leader showed great restraint
by taking a step back
from the cliff edge while
his hawkish advisors
screamed jump
neglect to mention
that he ran full pelt
to the precipice
from several miles away

Jeffree Michael #83 Round trip


Breath now in circles
assume everything is round
wind blows before calm









#haiku

image Lost in fog / photo JMS

Thursday, June 27, 2019

Kit Kelen #1274 - eaten alive

1274
eaten alive

for Carol Archer


things bit me
and I won’t name names

I walked into the book
or was it the one creature

sun shone a scone top
sneezed with the wind

I stood out for the shade
and things bit me

everyone had a piece of me
they won’t know who they are

cliffwardly up a flutterby beats
antennae directed to steer

and while I was watching
other ones winged

it was beautiful
how they bit me

so much nemesis
I had the hubris part

no hiding in summer
cast accusations

mountain of me
all skin and bitten

I must have stood still too long
and having rested, digested

some bit me again for a souvenir
or else they’d got the hang

I know that you are just
itching to say

every insect wants to know
will I come back as one of them?

or will I be
eaten alive
?

Frances Carleton #26 - two women at the table next to me in the otherwise empty cafe



#haiku #napkinhaiku

Wednesday, June 26, 2019

Frances Carleton #25 - monument lost



Yesterday a monument burned
ancient wood ignited
after years of drought
glyphs in the grain
scolded
stone legacy cracked
crown toppled
by marching indifference 

Glowing in the darkness
throwing light
cinders drifting 
stars made

Tears shed over stories not yet said
tales already told, forever altered
         the engagement in its shadow
         laughter sheltering from rain
         beauty in complex simplicity 

Pores blocked with ash
choking on thorns
drowning for money

A forest devoured


(The day after Notre Dame burned)

Kit Kelen #1273 - nesting

1273
nesting

how life comes to it

past dark of woods
middling along
and find yourself

twig, needle, moss, fern
bed roof and bury  a chain

a ribbon of rain
like a stave sung dark

the ones who were
we must all mourn
now nested in the ground

spectacular beauty
the bones reveal
and each of us
a mountain

dwell on that, you gods
angels, saints long gone

we were the ones to breathe
took steps, lay down
dreamt everything up

hear falls from far
life larger than all

revenge a place is done with us

our best to wreck and still

call the sun to witness
what mortal yet remains

Tuesday, June 25, 2019

Kit Kelen #1272 - a whale's way

1272
a whale’s way

for Ross Donlon

(this one’s for your knees)



mazy trod upwards
in a poet’s June

imagine all that up

gnarl of hoof shone
mountain rooted

leaf green
the berries yet to come  

mist is in us breathing

*

moss on slate
on ice on moss

on hill
on fjord

climb on

we are in the card
in the cloud
in the breeze

it’s never so far up
as we are

come with me
let’s climb

that’s the way
we are gone

*

no one made mountains

but fashioned crude gods
for the sky
from the ice

often to lack imagination

carved also
boats to go

rain
hard
unfeeling
touches

anonymously Norse

*

how many ways the water falls!

have you seen the words blossom on the page
the picture blossom in the words
the story come to life in the picture
?

and all in the mind’s eye

light instances

jewel breath out of the snowstorm
a season folding from

*

pine shook
sparkle in
wool wisp

draw deep down breath
be sea be tree

a wing over
look up

gossip of gull
shine like a face in

this world is ours
if only
never to understand

*

they’re leaning in windows for memory
trees and clouds and

hewn rune sun
polished to hold

before the sail stood
gulls ancient
over fresh hewn oars

backs bent
under the skin of night

stars steady coursing
clouds between

as all have come to image it

*

while I sleep
the ancestors

and you’re the waking ice

kraken snapping at the frozen toes
(birds provide the lice)

*

we can all be mountain, king
troll tunnel out of summer’s blind

keep damp, drip

it was better here when the whale’s way
was the only way to go

*

there are no signs but things themselves
and these are not the words

we are the thing lit
you won’t see
but must have dreamt so far

a sunstrip on the other side

may I be the vanishing man

Rob Schackne #967 - "Forgetting"


Forgetting
there are
other diseases
than poetry
where eyes
see things
that are not there


scream for
significance
pain too high
too much weight
till razor
or cliff drop
end it there


a stick
a candle
say it's a poet
like royalty

let it go
lie back with
a severe smile


Frances Carleton #24 - nectar

nectar
under the sun
sweat
running down your side –
let me drink from you

Jeffree Michael #82 Give it a rest





Which vice goes bye bye
can't seem to make up my mind
it's overdrive

made a top forty
#1 didn't hold
replaced
by every new venality

conclude to scrap this plan
take-up one at a time
twenty-eight days
straight

there's no tomorrow





image: Resting  /  digital drawing pencil washes / JMS



Kerri Shying R # 636 - idle at the rear

was it the bootmaker   told me
how hard it had become   to find
the ones to stitch the leather   I
must have asked him   about the
big  free-arm  machine     standing

idle at the rear

he said my boss   he comes in when I ask him  but
these days      made a sound    between a
squeak and a phht     nobody wants the mending
and truth      the shoes won’t take it
works the sole    too flimsy   for so long

Kit Kelen #1271 - shiftless

1271
shiftless

it’s the one little cloud
mountain hover

all the shadows
forest stone
and shining
no two days
the same

summer come over us
by feather, by wing

still crevices snow
paler
and pinking

so the lastness goes on
can’t call this weather

indoors cannot be justified

from a hammock
see the sky
11.30 pm
bright

one day must be the longest
it’s the home we live in now 

Monday, June 24, 2019

Kerri Shying R - #635 on every other thing sheer glass panes

always one cat    available
to put you on display  to hold
the curtain  wide   while you
blithely dress     one eye
on the weather the other

on   every other thing    sheer glass panes

one cat   looking out after the
drear cold rain    for a peek
at what remains   until you throw
the shoe    imagining  that the neighbours
see  drear cold you

Sunday, June 23, 2019

Kerri Shying R # 634 cuts by doilies

modern panel    write   about the
everyone   the being fucked self
hatred    sliced and julienned
arranged  along a choice
of lettuce leaf or paper

cuts  by doilies

my cold meat is stuck
on   Butcher paper  press
the new
tattoo   it tells
me stop

Kit Kelen #1270 - telling

1270
telling the wind from the rain

far sided, bright

the bird from the trick

see animals in us there
here everywhere

cloud a mountain

telling the song
from tune
from tree

will from the worm
and buzz above

summer till bright
winter all night

telling the head
from the weather

storm smudge

go through your pockets
turn everything out
telling page
from the day

know the steps
from those we have taken

the walk is the work
a hunch

all this just by eye
by the way

Frances Carleton #23 - heart

shining
your light brings hope
to the night sky
a drifting cloud blocks -
my heart




#tanka

Saturday, June 22, 2019

Frances Carleton #22 - night sky


I stand
gazing at waxing moon
casting shadows -
we’re apart
same celestial rock

Kit Kelen #1269 - allemansrätt

1269
allemansrätt


everything is a kind of writing

up down equally
at the same time

any woods off into the mind

anywhere can be the track
insect gets into your pants by rights

any cloud low and sun slung

mud underfoot, eye to catch

anyone hiding in a hollow leaves signs
tucked into the dream
constitutional

any observation
obvious, once proved
an old joke for such laughter

stone tosses the water across
any breeze can blow
and shone
who’ll say word against?

any drop dots our page

sprightly all up of course
slippery down

it’s any toe stubbed
boots best

wings might brush by your ear
anyone’s

ancestors hard at it once
 how we are

and can we go on?
anyone could

if it’s any consolation
this rain will be everywhere else as well

anywhere’s everywhere
once in a while

by rights
nothing figurative at all
but you will stop where the heart comes still

it’s something simpler than the law

I see how far in the day I’ve come
looking back into the book



Kerri Shying R - # 633 the rhythms of my soughing

I did not see the joy let slip
the breathing in of grit
and out of stilted    lands
how clutter    choked   the
flow  left chunks that blocked

the rhythms of my soughing

and I panted  coughing chip tubes
cat skulls   secrets     bile
the wastes   untreatable   all
focus   to the root   the tide
leaves nothing for the ground

Friday, June 21, 2019

Jeffree Michael #81 Satellite Queen


A young queen
named in hoping
Playford would be

the unlit beacon and final outpost
a radius to the older Queen
Adelaide who roped her King William
down the Main North Road

its genus lost now in translation
from Kensington and Buckingham

to this far away
dry and hard greenfield startup

paradox
she would always
be an upstart

a sort of merciless mid-century never a paradise lost
not reaching her dreamed potential

an unremarkable drifting
modern ghetto
who no longer keeps promises

so much for that young
well-spoken rule

they soon arrived
by boat and gathered
built and played pool
for a short while
grew vegetables
put on a play or two
wished and ...

a salute to the vehicle industry
would have to do
a Scots singer
we grew to love

a few buildings
Bulldogs
red white and blue

Elizabeth SA

everything dissolved into clouds
dust blew and heat baked
what was left
remains

the town we all never met
'cept by name

the queen went by one day
we cheered
she did that waive

we all knew

Kit Kelen #1268 - up and down (back on the track above Messen [at Alvik])

1268
up and down


up
back on the track above Messen

the town is climbing
here’s a long growl howl
or other way around

it’s sipping
we pause to go on
which is up

though it’s the other way
with creek
with falls
with rain

breath catches us
we’re leaving the saws
far far below

time is there to step from
and I could lose my way
but won’t
on rocks where I have been before

in bracken dell
pine still
hollow the head

and will you, world, keep up with me?

o tiny flutter
where I’ve disturbed
and wish I had those wings for up
so effortless to glide must be
on just some worm or insect thrust

blueberries
fresh leafed
promising not yet
my friends not yet

sip and get
the whistle wet

come to the spot
you know from before

it’s like remembering a skin
this four-year-after crawl
(and every page now colour)
(the insect learns to be alive
briefly briefly we too)

birch flutter, clouds flit
long way to go

all of this sits, just waiting for snow

until in a gnarl of dizzy
just sit
until the mountain passes

after a while
so I’m in
bathed in the mountain
that’s just being here

an instinct knows the turns of it
mountain is a workout

have come so far
here’s salt in your eye
(and some days mud)

pace myself, other selves
ants an instance

(ants make a mountain of me)

there isn’t an end of day you could touch
it’s midsummer next week

all of this is in the book
where I am writing now  










down

gently and gently
foot for foot after

there’s some little bird tells

I am overwriting the way come

and steady
slip sideways
if must

the moss and me
we got here by chance

slip
where the ice scraped
through and out

no stopwatch
but there’s bird and stream

that instinct which is memory
lives like a toehold

so see the world sunk

branches smooth
where hands have held

maidenhair, grass fresh green

meet, ask
do you know what the weather will be?

careful with the track now
and gingerly the knee

for every crime of aspiration
there is this going

down
to where the town’s all talk
boasts smoke

a different rhythm down

remember to be
where you are