KA Rees #34 - Ern Malley's computer

Ern Malley's computer 

 

Found in possession of a number of poems - authorship disputed

I have collected porn and filed it under 'obscene'

For your viewing pleasure.

I have opened windows and opened again

To watch the crash –

Data washing against

Your gleaming pixelated shore.

I scream – the helix harbinger blistering

Your monitor. I dial modem wise

The Casio numbered sequence

Of your answer in zeros and ones.

I wait for the Penguin to come.

Rob Schackne #1019 - Go Ahead

Go Ahead

                            Purple haze all in my brain
                            Lately things they don't seem the same
                            Acting funny, but I don't know why
                            Excuse me while I kiss the sky...

                                  Jimi Hendrix (1967)

The calibrations
how high we go
young grasshopper
a bee conference
in the wind
a consensus
for the end of time
excuse me
acting funny
go ahead
give it space
magpie logic
wallaby metaphysics
possum caring
the critters say give us
the description
nothing is the same
where's the sky
what will it do
to the night

Kit Kelen #1399 - planetraitors

1399

planetraitors

time to name and shame the enemies of the planet

I see the smoke today

this blood sun rise

it’s caused

they are calling the names again

what great trumpets!

count the beat

and the beat goes on

who are you?

where?

and coming for me

they are counting

there is no conversation with them

they are not your friends

they are saying

repeat after me

shall we name them?

enemies of this world

burn to make

the market up

make it all up as they go

they are counting on you

they are counting on me

do you believe in demons and spectres?

ghouls, id-monsters, lusts made live?

it’s over my head, over my dead body

you put another penny in the machine

is it coming up roses or lemons or pears?

how they slip the noose of truth

it’s all of this chatter keeps them alive

clatter of coins, cash hush counting

listen! that hum’s we’re in the machine

they won’t respect any natural order

they are counting counting counting

counting themselves up higher

it’s all of us fall

usage:

the planetraitors of these heinous crimes against all…

against all of us

against all creatures

and the green world

and blue far dot we are

condemned

our will must be to stop them

however whatever

no not quite

mustn’t confuse

my ends for means

will we be shrunk with fear?

or grow, embrace a challenge?

so borders expand

so the empire is forged

our blood for theirs

they are counting us

counting inside

ready or not?

you are

you’ve been counted

check yourself

is there coal in your pocket?

are you paying to cut down a faraway tree?

how many species are we down today?

how much is the smoke comes out of your arse?

and the melting you make?

and the big wind

blows everything away

will I come to judgement?

prosecute the case?

how much are you willing to pay?

it’s too hard

it’s too hard

the counting goes on

can’t help it

can we?

is it

heads full of smoke

we all bow?

Jeffree Skewes #127 Draughts

Try as we might for these facts I deserve no prize

for second winds your creative spins this flat tyre 

a pile of homeless numbers lies on the floor

pack them away best outback inbox further the better 

good luck if you're lucky if finally that delivers the final line

waiting seven long days might just bring it around 

mix dirt with water and at best maybe sprout tomatoes  

better to forget outcasts than crying over spilled milk

buried deep in a forgotten drawer the doings might brew

maybe somehow those wayward and odd loose ends at last

grow thicker and stickier and return home for dinner

prodigal children eventually become hungry if starved 

eventually on that fateful day start calling my name

I'll come running to make yours mine and craft new lines

make versing sandwiches madly like never before

who knows why it comes when it comes our way

mislaid colloquies I make mine turquoise 

painting completes those left behind

KA Rees #33 - Vatical

Vatical

After Ern Malley

'People should not love

things that are bad for them'.

Nor should nighthawks

Hark on the wing

Of day's careless fallow.

The sundials continue

To caress the city’s furrowed brow,

As minestrone magic erupts

Into the laps 

Of the chattering classes.

Painters of the Old Quarter

Throw canvasses into rapids

Of swirling Niagara water.

We see the image

Topsy-turvy in its magic box

And on the cup of Aphrodite

The mockingbird circles

Counter clock wise.

Kerri Shying R #586 - mackerel cloud

mackerel cloud

there were two sunrises this morning
one in Canberra
red as the sunset
the brown dog bounding out
to see the Gomeroi woman pointing
her camera at the sky

in Mayfield
rising from my bed
in the hospital gown that everyone
mistakes for a dress
I stop to untie the vice from a Chinese spoon
glued to the wood pallet overnight
imagining it gathering
another thing another thing
another thing
to the future

this is how we live dragging ourselves
on strings  on strings of things
on things of hope on acts
on sunrises places of friends
on knowing
that somewhere else
a dog is romping a woman says

what is your sky like this morning
I say
there's a mackerel cloud

Kit Kelen #1398 - advice for poets

1398

advice for poets

for a series

and possibly for the picture book of the poem

flaunt the got

you are the show

a wink awake aware

you must be struck by things

and tickled too

still a few lines missing

and too many by a few

a straight line

proves

under a cliché

anyone plays

until the truth will out

see how it shifts like the weather

as if it were always and already there?

and here we are

however you feel

when I say I it’s everyone

same thing with you too

can be own plural

we together – who can stop?

today the struggle

work’s to say

come – you picnic of animals

and instruments

together antics tell

always second guess the world

take super powers for granted

you see this smoke?

full of lost skies

remember you have to remember to breathe

and will you hold on to this lump of coal

pass a buck around?

I went in fear of abstractions

and found these few adage instead

the power courses through me

so that the bringing is light

do not work for the enemies of the planet

they’re not the ones who need your help

some of us have a voice

money works to make worthless

to tell the moment

tell the place

tell all

how it is

here where we’re not to be expected

these greetings make void

bushel lit

lamb to the slaughter

hide a self under stone

just for this one moment

I know where I am

KA Rees #32 - If there are mermaids

If there are mermaids

Waves turn crystalline, smash back to opal collecting strength

to shoot once more for the shore. They barrel and turn in messy right angles.

On the horizon, a broken bank of clouds holding rain.

The baby sleeps in his pram, tucked into his blanket the dreams roll

across his lids. Along the path we crunch over sand. Seaweed’s

migrated to shore, ripped from roots to tumble onto the beach.

There’s steep bank of it towards the pool, mostly brown kelp and curled amongst it,

small chains of Neptune’s Necklace. My daughter has asked after mermaids,

I equivocate, say something lame about the weather, not my thought—if there are mermaids

then this is their hair. 

Rob Schackne #1018 - "Not particularly"

Not particularly
prone to eavesdrop
nor the bystander
just waiting for
the action to stop
I hope you sort
your problems out

father and a son
maybe 10 years old
who has just done
a great bike trick
Dad did you see it
yes he says angrily
now he's shouting

this kind of thing
will get you nowhere
the rest of your life
you're worthless
the boy is crying
& a hundred tears
roll down the road

short lurches only
all this sorrow
I hope you sort
your problems out
I've got no ciggie
to throw in the gutter
I spit instead

Kerri Shying R #585 - NDIS agency managed

NDIS Agency managed

what to do/
thwarts   in front   the side/
stamping feet/
just likely to cause pain/

do I enjoy pick-up sticks/
you asked me/
at the weekend/
yes  I prefer it when  I don't/
have to do it with my butt cheeks/

why would you change bus numbers/
it's because you can/
in charge of definition/
the categories/
there's the sweet spot   on the racquet/
the sound you cannot write or draw/
utter in a song/

I am not the umpire/
this is not/
my game

Kit Kelen #1397 - Markwell aubade

1397

Markwell aubade

little years in the web

woven to light

and dusty there

letterbox disintegrates

and that’s the old age done

scratch down

they’re working on the real again

believe that’s what you call it

the moment me

bubble up

or blister

shake off like a dog

from this last mud’s dam

it’s all the drought

can throw me for

and I’m no more in love there

than with this face I make to dream

where float in a mote

lit morning

keep off the road

stay out of mind

still and still

I hear the machine

just so

a first bird sings 

KA Rees #31 In Case of Emergency

 

In Case Of Emergency

Isn’t coffee supposed to keep you awake?

Yes? I don’t know, maybe.

Your mouth—full of snow, drifting

The drive requires shovelling

The steps to the front door need to be discovered

once more.

Aren’t you supposed to…

Isn’t it?

Someone has given you the cards

you walk to find

cracks in which to deposit them.

What is my pin number

against a day’s bright, tight pain

at least the building is air-conditioned.

We never get

a chance to answer

by the time

we remember

we have forgotten again.

A patchwork quilt, coming into land.

Where do we live? Which one is us? They pipe and fight to breathe

over the glass. In case of emergency, put on your own mask before

helping to put a mask on the child. I raise water to my mouth and drink.

Jefffree Skewes #126 Worth

The worthy we are taught
rail before the dream
flying never took off

held back behind dreaming
praying to be grounded

yet life could only be potential
what else should we fight for
but here right now

liberation justice freedom
choose fight defend
risk create fall habitual

the time to shine is now
today tomorrow's all it's ever been

we've nothing to show
but faith and time
or doubt we're

worthy





image: Between seas / watercolour / paper JMS 

Kit Kelen #1396 - on the quality of these lines

1396

on the quality of these lines

it’s hard to live with nothing to prove

nonsense is towards sleep

I write it on the wall

a dark stain spreads

too far down in the pillow

too high in the branches to fly

see an open door in the dark

and that’s the way

that’s the way

it has to mean nothing

you have to be lost

to do the thing of difference

there’s always a sunrise inside

to see

chase

tell

come to the proofs

which is why I am here

it’s where the scheme won’t fit

truth shows

fit as a fiddle

at death’s pretty portal

scribble it

or say to self

proof is I have dreamed

as soon as you know they can’t see you

you’ll have a self to be

KA Rees #31 - A small list of things

A small list of things

We lie among the grasses in the sloping yard, a butterfly flits near the garden beds of the ground floor apartment. The clothesline with its plastic funnel strung from the frangipanni tree to the corner balcony. The shed lies open, a cool earthen smell. Pots spill with soil and plastic sheeting towards a slip of gravel on the old earth. The space for a child to crawl gets smaller, but not for the cat perched atop a blue tarpaulin, lord of the thrown things.

An outdoor shower attached to pale brick with heated flecks; the moss garden that grew underneath rainbows—water from the shower head. And the paint her grandfather lifted from the army’s surplus, any dull concrete or rusted handrail turned into the green of a tank or the deep russet of the boiler room. Underground tunnels at North Head.

Kit Kelen #1395 - I won the tiniest prize of all

1395

I won the tiniest prize of all

came slightly with a sigh

had all the parts of speech

who’d say where?

had no capitals

to tread the forest in a trail till light

a stretch and till to be  

I circled like a shark

but won the tiniest prize of all

drop of rain

in the dry

I came home and saw

how everyone as one exhaled

born here

allowed so much

I take myself for granted

to spill the oceans

at the table

I had a seat there

and on the train

at the bar

there was a lot of sitting down

and dips my lid to anthem

won the littlest of the lot

you had to listen hard for it

green tree snake saw me

kookaburra for its scarecrow sitting

must have been the tiniest of trophies

I was I mean

born here and allowed so much

take myself for granted

that these words are my own

found them!

vague impression I have left

waft of let’s say

won the tiniest prize of all

your brave face

and a view of

I was the sacrifice

and everywhere around the fire

here where the dice have thrown

to sit in the music and still

o next breath please be mine

KA Rees #30 - Breath without trees

Breath without trees

spooled in blankness

I turn, like turning

on a light. I can't

smell the chemical process

that changed these trees.

Now I write and it is

here,

in documented space

between being

uploaded

and published it does not

exist, unlike the cold metal bit

you move in your mouth

between teeth.

I breathe,

the air is only sometimes

free and sometimes it feels rare

and you don’t think

how much you hate the office. The way it drags

down both sides of your day

the endless dreary dust caught in the carpet

like degraded flotsam on the shore.

Already we live with the end of the world

and we are not sure about breath without trees,

a white feather spins and spirals and rocks downward surrounded 

by a hundred falling leaves.

Jeffree Skewes #125 Colossal

A-m-e-r-i-c-a the tune
we hum it all the time
before the decline
defined by the fall
it's grace no longer
Spartacus plausible
it's peak was invincible
ripped and controlled
a movie masterclass for all
until and through hearing
nineteen 50s house committees
defined that un-American

the painful gradual fall
set in Stone the 1960's
Oliver's seventies and '80
still towers go down
forces work underground
conspiracies remain Roman

tragedy's a thing
we dance and sing and rap
unhinged the guns always
they rule the 1st amendment
some power and some passion
for whose right to be right

A-m-e-r-i-c-a

Kit Kelen #1394 - last day of Ayer's Rock

1394

last day of Ayers Rock

here is thing

climb

fum fie fee fo

imagine discovering

beanstalk up

because it’s there

traditional!

only the animal saw before

fee fo for

and leave behind these many marks

to say yourself

came here

lost an apostrophe somewhere

a turd on the desert and disappear

symbol of something

fie on’t, fie

because they’re there

abseil St Paul’s, St Peter’s

Blue Mosque I smoke Notre Dame myself

do poo

don’t you?

fee fie

little savage

haven’t I already been

all stork and up

toy ashtray too

and spear in the garden

round and round

we still can go

what a view from top of the rock

and bring the kiddies along

last of the curse

must turn to stone

fee and fie and fum

trolls of sunshine

of the open air

thing is gone

put it away

ho hum

now sacred

has another name

all vanish off the map like

may we all

and so belong

this is someone’s country  

Rob Schackne #1017 - "How we imagined"

How we imagined
the last day
got up early

the end of the world
racing a lizard
to a puddle

something strummed a colour
the sun crashed down
lent you a poem

what do you profess
in the order
of your defiance

painting beauty
to make it last
till the day you die

the end was fierce
the trees were very still
no guitar at all

Kerri Shying R # 584 - the the (uncertain smile)

The the
(uncertain smile)


making sure he goes
deep enough   mother+son
always closest to the bone
and he don't want to hurt me
that ship sailed   we banter

steely dan/I am  jokes

I've got him 
under my skin
where the rain can't get in

I don't sweat       I swear
but he does  asking for the
aircon to go up    marrying
this other world
of work    of ink   and pain
our self   determination
dinghies     hugging
buoys

KA Rees #29 - Dave Gold and his VR company

Dave Gold and his VR company



Whale thumping her tail on the way sailing past abandoned glass factories.
Lady day sings white hot, stroboscoping her voice in my ears.



Dave Gold strokes his goatee, talking about the wall and Charlie,
Don’t ya see? Don’t ya see?



We can't take you back in time but
we can create the perfect illusion of it.



At age 33, he was all of three
when the wall came down



His VR company paints portraits
accompanied by cold war guides,



A west Berlin punk crosses
into the East for the music scene.



Imagine offering a Nazi-era tour,
the historical taboos would make it riskier,



obviously. Can you, he says, imagine it? He strokes
his Prussian whiskers.



I see the pale legs of marauders climbing
up up, scrambling over red dust, complaining



about the lack of toilets and the heat, pointing cameras
smiling. The threat in those straight white teeth.



I listen for the whale questing
white water across the deep, cold floor.

Kit Kelen #1393 - a machine which cannot tell the time

1393

a machine which cannot tell the time

today we are allergic to bread

wilt from the sun

all our own work

I’ve read in here

often we’ll catch fire

all pace is possible

sometimes turn to stone

I call them dags

at a sheep’s end

so come dreaming

and duck

large bird

from branches

a disentangle

has pages like the sky

turn to

high in the tops

have read leaves

where clouds took

call quits

there is no corner of it says to brighten or

but beyond the edges – day and night

in green of the unseen

the feeling for a pulse

nothing makes tick

have learnt not to listen

I have heard there is a machine

cannot tell the time

someone haunts these for the facts last lost

yet called away

the kenneled graph

bear bull

have read in here of somewhen once

rare and precious thing

remembered where I am so why

there is no corner of it tells

someone flies into and sting!

drive a truck through

no matter

will, won’t it?

not for quids!

takes as long as it likes

and with some urgency

the pyre and burn

it’s how hate goes

this one kills fascists too