Tuesday, September 17, 2019

Kit Kelen #1356 - under covers and spring

1356
under covers and spring


lie listening in it

by frond become
moist mulch

it is a roof in real time
where I lie for
as counting if
quite quilted yet
indoors of it

when all the world was dust
when every sky was blue

come to my tank, won’t you?
dark of day up about

I have forgotten where it falls

but went to sleep to, woke to it

and some to soak we hope

at a stretch all risen
radio struggling through

coming singing in between of
shows that we’re still here

it falls for me, for you
for a gift

hatted out

you tear through
scare the birds
in their glum wonder

when all the world was dust
when every sky was blue

and sometimes slows
to start again
all just so we’ll know

how
leaf to leaf
dripping
and down

it’s ours
and mud again 

Monday, September 16, 2019

Kit Kelen #1355 - under the eye I have to imagine

1355
under the eye I have to imagine


dizzy with this world

here I am
other end of the telescope
only a theory you know

here I am again  
and for a symptom
such a long way down

I really cannot be seen
not even hearsay

still start a rumour
by this means prove
certain things
will go unnoticed

it’s a whole world
they won’t see
hear

they may be a myth
may well be

ear to the ground
and put an eye to

cruel music I am made
that’s certain

in my strange image of plenty
first breaths, last
an alphabet as yet unknown

and just about my business go
the moral of the story

struck by a sun so much larger than life
look up from under that much crafted lens
simply to say hello 

Jeffree Skewes #110 Look up


Look at me
I want you to see
nothing really much
lies between this or that

with so much to know
too many facts
let alone a few ideas
so little time

I used a phone
to call you up
post and poke you
just look at me

you'll surely know
I still haven't found
Bono's lost crown
Monkey's suttras

the promised lands
oneness
some perfect picture
slips not even through

my hands
are all I own
digging in the dirt
throwing in the air

waving at you


Sunday, September 15, 2019

Frances Carleton #73 - pot



#tanka
#beermattanka

Kit Kelen #1354 - drowning - a how-to guide


1354
drowning – a how to guide


in the deep you won’t remember swimming

some dreams are coded so as not to remember
you wouldn’t know you were in them
but wake with a feeling of having been
blue as a distance of smoke

from a stave height
see the chords
it is the colour of my home caught

birds sing invisibly
home to the light

mainly it’s this house
which isn’t
and never was

my parents were so happy here
rooms, views I knew
I have not seen

all this too will be taken

it was in there I held you
we climbed higher in the limbs
leafed the thing
and how we grew

rain prayed for us

I think of my mother in the dream apart
the dream in pieces
forgetting this that

in the deep you won’t remember swimming

no news gets through
it’s light announces all to day

how we were always here before
otherwise how could we be?
we sang before the words to say

a flattened note
where things won’t match

some mischief with the muses and none to blame for that

but know we were all in attendance

risk a way from dream to dream
so from-from-the-fabric sprung
under the old as-if
and go unnoticed there

frightening to make life of it

around this polished floor and spin
well into a husbanded waltz, so gone
to call the music in

littler than anyone fallen in there

I know without the least farewell
we won’t be here again

Saturday, September 14, 2019

Frances Carleton #72 - blue

thrown
into the water
vessel bobs
before sinking to depths - 
origami in blue 

#tanka 

Rob Schackne #999 - "There will be no clocks"
















        There will be no clocks
        hand the victims over
        there will be no hating

        once the gate is shut
        and no looking back
        it will be welcome all

        they'll be waiting
        by every sweet forest
        cool desert and sunny hill

        there will be day
        there will be night
        the hours may be changed


        there will be birds
        that sing in the wind
        flowers as far as you stretch

        there will be stillness
        there will be balance
        there will be time enough

Kit Kelen #1353 - towards the equinox


1353
towards the equinox

parrots in the mandarin
gay lorikeets and honey tongues
birds of the bower bluer than sin  

some dawdlers, some warblers
some lightning swift
as if a special place were sung

thud landers
indelicate of beak
who sway a limb till still

swoop, dive
to be among the thrill

gust buffeted
heavier than air

strangers to what we call toil
breezy birds
who cannot care
and drop the skins and pips
who leave their leavings everywhere

it’s not their nests they soil

Jeffree Skewes #109 Beautiful black


Lend an ear
your imagination no fear

hear the messages
our first peoples do

over and over again
without diminishing
the raging inequality
and even with respect

hear daily you're more likely
to die much younger
be incarcerated
no fair go

adverse health issues
10 to 100
times more
than the other mobs

what is it like to be
reminded every day?
walk in those shoes
and truly know

higher mental issues
disability rates
infant mortalities
lie ahead

reported in good faith
for who? spare a thought

well I heard it on the radio
and saw it on the television
in the news
it's all the same

domestic violence
drug and alcohol
diseases
homelessness

hand you're dealt
oh really?

a lifetime reminder
of inequity
inhumanity
injustice

walk in these shoes
listen to truly know

who hears
the ringing
in the ears
die young die poor

what's the point
quoting symptoms
negative messaging
salt to wounds

cruel profiling
news to who?

time for the Doing
share the good stories
tell the truth yes but
balance the books

walk in these shoes
and truly listen to know

Now it's time
better to Agitate
write a letter
activate democracy

Join sorry marches
Change the date
visit The embassy
change the Flag

Stop the profiling
most of all
get off the backs
make a new friend

Beautiful black





image: Ariadne (detail) synthetic polymer paint / collage / on paper on stretched canvas JMS

Friday, September 13, 2019

Rob Schackne #998 - Wind Leaves (redux)


Wind Leaves


I stand in a forest bumped by trees
the great sky is plainly visible

a fresh breeze begins to stir
a drop of something lands on my head

nothing above the belt, nothing red
I have understood her too easily


the trees are fooled by the forest
the forest responds to the wind

the waves shake the leaves again
nothing below the belt, nothing blue

each new breeze reacts to the storm
her breath, her songs, her poems

the leaves shake the waves again
I am suspected of losing my mind




Kit Kelen #1352 - error message

1352
error message


you have been idle for twenty minutes
well, no, not really

cannot be accessed at this time

the way machines talk to us now
suggests the likely end of the story

a page not found

this is a mandatory field

send new password
did you not agree to everything?

Armageddon product activation failed
can try again?

your account has been suspended

the television says my subscription has expired
but I never had one

null is defined as
run time error

you are not connected
you are in the wrong place

too many pixels
not known to the system

already I’m over all sorts of limits

root device mounted
must go incognito
still will see, be seen

every error has a number
there must be a book of them

none highest

if all the errors were recorded ever

oops
and try again

you have agreed to cookies
Earth has been uninstalled

sooner or later we shut you down
reboot
this may take time

ye know not the hour

one zero zero one
so on
how did it come to this?

something happened
you you you
must must must

keyboard not found
Press F1

fatal error
can try again
Press Escape to terminate

abort, retry, fail

the machine stops, let’s say
pinged
rest is silence

death will be a spinning wheel
by then you’ll have timed out

Thursday, September 12, 2019

Clark Gormley #106 Ekphrasis


Signalling you over a dog’s breakfast
I’ve been living hard
consuming what’s bad for me
and discarding what’s good.
Two dark men are coming to get me.
All I have is my art
and the muse has left
after trashing the place and
dousing my celebration.
Despite all this
the fire’s still there
and I’m standing as tall as I can
under poor light
but can’t you see
I’m flagging?

Kit Kelen #1351 - vale Sharanya

vale Sharanya

and make a shall-we sadness?
beyond belief it is

in all the gone-ness
this the most unfair
hardest

that one so loving
so alive
will not be with us now

there isn’t some worthiness
lets us go on

imagine day
the world still turns

so little existence is

here are things
time can’t make right

all hoped against this fact

and won’t we live
in those bright eyes?

I cannot imagine your loss

Kerri Shying R #565 - It was really nothing

It was really nothing

absence makes the heart
go under  water drips
on stone     latency weaponised
out in the still air

she twisted
the hairpin   withdrew
this time   instead of screaming
pointing    I sat

 let

what whisps  of heat  anger
love   form up     bunny clouds
for children  
for rain    someday somewhere

Wednesday, September 11, 2019

Jeffree Skewes #108 Daily news



daily we arise 
news of our drip feed of dread
sells down the river










image:  Daily dose of dread - collage / paint / digital drawing - JMS 

Kit Kelen #1350 - a picture of heaven

1350
a picture of heaven
notes for abuzz

bustle of god
cloud over mountain
nothing edible here

it is a kingdom of statues afoot
what you’d call magic
pastel on marble

all this forever
dreaming and play
we hear your wishes

some one of us throws the bolts
we start the fires to put out later
you only look up, think perfect

all right with the world
we breathe in your wishes
nothing solid to tread

would be animals
cannot find sadness
we’ve tried to understand what death is

it’s hard for us when we don’t live
we’re only here if you believe
only if you come to feed

there’s all of time for us to do
believe you me
and we’ll be real

believing is the trick 


Rob Schackne #997 - "Edges of the rain"













           Edges of the rain   the wind
           of everything   before it turns
           a breeze   it makes landfall
           reaches the first tree   amazed 

           now you have it   now you don't
           we spoke of this   of all we lost
           there   on the border   faraway
           the eye sees   then forgets


Tuesday, September 10, 2019

Frances Carleton #71 - bottom



#haiku

Kit Kelen #1349 - glisten to the tips

1349
glisten to the tips


rained last night
sake of novelty I suspect

all night through me the clanging wind

was giving a lecture on the weather
something I know very little about

and there was that dinner party
which knife which fork?
everyone had different utensils
experiment I guess

it rained last
I heard the roof

bucket in the drought
elsewhere is burning

must be much more I’ll never remember

there’s suspense
how lovely we none of us know what’s next

something for everyone the rain is
the sun has shone everything now

and I creak on my hinges as well
open to all this world 

Monday, September 9, 2019

Kerri Shying R # 564 from the Ocean Baths to Dairy Farmers corner in a wheelchair

from the Ocean Baths to Dairy Farmers corner in a wheelchair

what's inside the smell of the sea
this flood of salt
of freedom   green of plant bodies
clung to stone  exposed
for these four hours to sun
piqued by the dead  surely  turn inland
a hundred yards a block more
coal jerks the nose  with two fingers
hard back against the land
harder   grows tarry   until you yield
creation
to the hand of man    the rail motor
to Telarah methylated
spirits
the evening of the planet
drink them in

Frances Carleton #70 - Illegally saved

found you
laying as a consequence
chilled but still breathing - 
to warm you
down my shirt you go

#Tanka

Kit Kelen #1348 - on country


1348
on country
the argument

the other poem for Kerri


on
because you won’t fall off
country has extent
it’s not a thing you’re swimming in

I learned that
though there are a couple of other kinds
the ‘tis of thee’
and the bush, not Sydney

it’s in you like language
if you’re its

in country might be more tuneful

you won’t fly over the thing
it’s waiting waiting
till you’re there

that’s something you’d feel
if you were first
knew the love
and owed the care

under country all end up
in some kind of roundabout way
otherwise up in the air
be smoke for a bit
then settle down

no it is on  
for young and old

most of all because
although the bastards tried and tried
you just can’t switch it off