Frances Carleton #55 - Fifty-five

She stands statuesque
all six foot eight
seven inch black patent
silver latex
from ankle to wrist to neck
tiny corseted waist
accentuating
                           her

Black bob wisps in spring breeze
catching in crows feet
on laughing ruby lips
Sydney heat and company
highlight elegance and poise
out of time and place

He say: you look amazing

A shimmy and glide of the crimson manicure
accompanies a Bristol baritone:

Rubber 55, I’m smoove all over

Kit Kelen #1308 - adventure in feathers

1308

adventure in feathers

and overcast, no matter

well into the morning

when this swamp hen

takes to the roof

one is tempted to think

because it is there

what use a roof to almost flightless?

 pond traipser –

the white-arsed swampy Jesus of birds

one wonders if the tribe will follow

but no, a solo show

they haven’t much of a tune

but you could always hear them

issues of territory, love quarrels

now a clatter too

at least this one is

who holds the roof

for decoration

and from there

gets up in the touching tree

half flutter

could say climbing

precarious to perch

its moment swaying

then

nothing like a thunderbolt

it glides

to pond

spectacular

at least to me

Jeffree Michael #95 Streets like ours

In the middle of your palm
you can read or hear
by chance a little scene
radio light comes on
actors like us

this morning's shock jock
spews snafu into the air
the kids on the street
roll someone just because
therein Instagram lies

home alone
you don't wanna know
the planets align sometimes
there's no rhyme or season
same for everyone always been

in the water
a giant dream hallucination
that uncle Jim Carrey stars in
the streets from here
all look the same

when the rain falls
mainly on the plain
someone else begins a journey
perhaps we'll meet in the fields
underneath clouds or down a drain

whether or not
one really cares
somethings in the air
it's time to change your shoes
or else you think them yours

Frances Carleton #54 - city park

lush grass
under 35 degrees
oak offers
cover of darkness –
sleepy working girl




#tanka

Kerri Shying R # 649 - Another BoM whore

Another BoM whore

watch the weather on the BoM
one eye on the window

my rain is your rain
and are you warm

or sitting drippin
in the blame  hey Barnaby

can't run life on a
a quarter-mill

what the
is wrong with   you

Kit Kelen #1307 - pile burning

1307

pile burning

(midwinter thing)

little sun we make

to chase around

and backs to

can revolve

could chase a fire like that all day

better to start with dusk

clocks gone home

hard to know what to let

no hard edges here

but that the day runs out

watch

stand smoke aside

and mainly just be watchful

breeze attentive

have a bucket for the symbol

you don’t want this in summer

don’t want the fuel around

the pile gets going

you think

what can we add?

what has to go?

stars fall

and stars spin up

(other poems are full of them ­–

throw old poems on)

it falls in on itself

needs feeding

we find a leant-up

decaying door

I suspect original

the 1948 door

through which cows must have come

generations

a little ragged round the edges

damp

but the fire was hot

we threw it on

that door was a way in

we burnt it

now it’s gone  

Frances Carleton #53 - bound

bound
head to quivering toe
he lays
waiting for the bite -
I fixed the leading pipe



#tanka

Kit Kelen #1306 - everyone is Jesus - a little comedy for godsbother

1306

everyone is Jesus

a little comedy

for gosbother

if you were to write the books

of what everyone did

the world would still spin on after

as if we’d never been

and so revolves a sun

in the end kind of explodes

takes us with it

that’s not the end at all

so all stars

and further still who knows?

survival of my greatest lines

is really a species thing

stand out

a clear night

anyone sees

it is in fact all about me

there are gospels

of getting the story straight

pretending a truth at a time

as if a new tune had always been

rise bread from the dead

call it spring, summer

sit on your egg

tread water

turn it to vines

and to wine

pass it on

be blessed

cast first stone

it’s safer to think a rock is a bear

than other way around

and you can cure yourself of a book

burn

bury

the lovely dust is stirring still

gods are in all things

god is

see how glory shines around

nothing logical in this

there’s putting the martyr into stigmata

gives the whole thing feeling

you can be word

in the beginning

just as in our father’s art

everyone is Jesus

all wonders we are

and miracle to be

here’s sun for a top deity

and all pray for rain

then put on this wolf in sheep

go on

be righteous

who hasn’t eaten the children

just once?

stiff-necked lot

and where’s my footstool scapegoat?

fists and fear

an empire grows

out of the old excuses

miracle oxygen

ideas run round

gods in odd socks

we each of us are

and all this while

think big

give yourself a funny hat

mutter out things they won’t know

who hasn’t made a universe

thought ‘good job! lo and behold!

done it once…

I can probably do it again’

?

could be white beard

make a manna drop

gets them all praying

part seas

fuck pharaoh

don’t forget your tablets

everyone is Buddha too

sits like that on a grain of rice

and you might think forever

but it all bounces back

you could be Lao-Tzu

come to the border

riddle a way out of the kingdom

do it by the book

fifteen billion years

all expanding

pity the life of a fly if you like

I’m telling you

them’s the odds

there isn’t a single god you can’t be

some only ever cited once

in works no less obscure than this

where

here the lesson endeth:

stay in genre

know your place

best to go unnoticed

assume an unimportance

not mattering

survive 

Frances Carleton #52 - Rocketman

Kit Kelen #1305 - living the dream

1305

living the dream

poem in any number of idylls

here I am now

rushing which to which

so much to live

salute to each

direction, self

so brim

even dozing, wonders

‘lucky’ they say

and yes there’s this skin

class and school

there’s health

but paying attention too

living in the dairy bales

having rats run the rafters

hard graft

and so much longing

regret, neglect

nothing flew till

nearly there

nearly now

late afternoon

when fire’s to light

and place a clock for far

winter in the moonlessness

snakes are snoozing now

possessed of season

stars for a spin

in every direction

a rising

a set

home

mere word to welcome me

start at the centre

fan out

filings to a magnet

possessed

as anywhere

anyone is

I dreamt I wasn’t sleeping

dancing on the sea

it was a sort of trampoline

and you were there with me

agreed this kind of thing

can’t be sleep

how would that sound if… ?

cure myself of all sorts here

won’t you sit the silence, watch

no sign of mice

it’s dry

though dusty yet

afraid to be in all my choices

home and away

possessed

I, among my wonders

(mine and the given

the made, the unmeant)

as are not we all?

great heart you have to have for it

here’s time arriving

again and again

first birds all innocence

never rose before

here’s the garden in the wild

the forest in the words

the other worlds all wondering

wake to the old world sunshine

know all this is ours 

Jeffree Michael #94 Does it get better

we stare together

the chance to be here as one

look again clouds move

Rob Schackne #975 - "Starálfur (2)"

Starálfur (2)


The staring elf 

at the foot of bed
sometimes leaves its post
I saw one this morning
across from park
cleaning rubbish
out of pot plants
asking (in general)
why people don't care
why they don’t see
the morning mist
was still thick
I said nothing
she thanked me
and walked on

Frances Carleton #51 - be kind

she passes
without looking up
entry fee paid
not present in this moment -
a father recently buried



#tanka

Kit Kelen #1304 - home and ghost again

1304

home and ghost again

this is the not-yet-here day

stop and consider

slowly slowly

catch myself

winter

think a fire to feed

it’s dry

we wait to brim

take all the far for green then

and here’s where I don’t catch up with myself

…again

in my own time zone

acres thereof

breakfast to be

and slept till

so many of me

and most loved, tin

a little shaky

glad

ponds low

here’s the family feathered to  

a little dance of trees

some fruited

and some frost bit

now all the secret world is home

say cast about

say strewn

today’s the day

that I’m not here

smoke fills the valley

no signs take

winter

so much to burn

this old world says

needn’t have

but here we are

among my wonders

rise

so stretch

let sunshine in

and wondering

slowly slowly

ready now

catch myself

wherever

it is

I fall

Jeffree Michael #93 I wrote this for you

I wrote this for you
a story of love
mostly joy and balance of pain
I sang this to you
so we could be true
stronger and courageous

when we go away
there 's only the tune
our rhythms remain
echos and maps
we gaze the stars
and feel the land

Inside our hearts
we know the parts
revolve some away
to return and stay
we each remember
how to get home

Frances Carleton #50 - high road

she walks

high road in dreams

dog trots along

company always there -

wants to laugh with someone 

#tanka

Kit Kelen #1303 - old play book (poem for Hong Kong)

1303

old play book

(poem for Hong Kong)

26.vii.2019

remember this!

thugs show up from nowhere

but they were always here

there and everywhere

because the people rose

they were waiting for the signal

ours and among us

where are the police today?

could be anytime

anyone

anywhere

they cart you off for what you believe

they call a bullet law

what does that sound like to you?

something like this has happened before

this is the city that will remember

these millions are just themselves

see them on the street to say

dress all the same today

it’s white shirt and chopper

(Yuen Long fashion)

someone stands up says

democracy

justice

where do we empty out the words?

the ones making history won’t know it

and the mocking laughter comes

are they anyone’s brothers, sons?

the ones in the uniforms

the ones who improvise

buy a steel bar in the hardware store

flash mob, pop up anywhere

loyal to what they are told, to a dollar

they are the terror today

with cudgel, with chopper

we know the kind of world they wish

where are the police?

when will they come?

‘I have the right’ somebody says

‘I know what things are over the border

how they are’

will you know a fascism when it comes?

can you hear the hot breath of how it has been?

the monsters are out on the streets again

long leash they have

and feel so free

(does not require intelligence

but they feel their love is true)

could be anywhere now, tomorrow

the big monsters and the little

the ones who pay

those who are paid

and the people are out to be themselves

to simply say ‘it’s us

don’t forget’

the border is shrivelling up now

the border is almost gone

it is a ceremony ­– difference

do you know how this ends?

names in a book

summary justice

not justice at all

they cart you off for what you believe

they call a bullet law

we know how it is over there

there is no information

tyranny leads away from truth

from rights

reporting

how prosperous we’ve been

it was a cure for poverty

to smog the sky

beyond a breath

but everyone believed

so sad

so sad so wrong

we have been too many

now so small

the thugs are out again to say

‘don’t dare

don’t think this place is yours

or that you will decide’

how weary the world is with this story

and here we come

the monsters are out again

something sharp in the hand

they hospitalise

strike like a storm

where you won’t know

we know how things are handled here

will you be among those who stood?

or hide, like me, at home in words?

somewhere to otherside the world

in a future no one can foresee

I hear it

a murmur

they are adding to a long list of names

poor poor old Hong Kong

I remember how it ends

how the tanks roll over all who stand

stand up!

they are coming again

tribes of ‘don’t know’

brigades of forget

thugs who thrilled with the kill

here is the city that will remember
fly in the ointment

thorn in the inside

and go about your business

pretend

the point however is to change the world

do you think they’ll let it go this time?

it’s only a simple thing to wish

everyone fights to be free

and someone says

‘get real

politics is an art of the possible’

they cart you off for what you believe

they call a bullet law

will they leave flowers?

will you be among those who stood?

to save ourselves from dictatorship

this is everyone’s lifework

some take to the streets

some creep in a poem

whichever way you witness

remark

protection from tyranny

injustice

the song says ‘stand up’

won’t you?

won’t we?

or is it just a song?

so sad

so sad

so wrong

poor, poor Hong Kong