Kristen de Kline #137 Some days

I
Some days the Gods   smile
your friends laugh so loud you

want to bottle it,   spray it around
your house like a perfumed mist

Some days the blog poems don't write
themselves, words go missing in action like stray

bullets ricocheting in the woods of the undisclosed
locations you vanished into down Lawless Way

Some days you hear rumblings in the stalls
a friend dresses up in faux leopard skin attire

for a marriage equality rally   she confesses
she'd rather not be at   instead she'd rather    dance

the night
away

Some days you hear it again, the echoing of laughter
friends talking, walking you through the field of mines

II
friends, they forward you a collection of Yoko Ono poems
a postcard from Bath that takes three and a half months to arrive
a lawless poet says she has space: if you need to flee just come North
a bag of blood oranges waits on the front door, friends

III
Some days I swear I hear you ranting, you do
know, we burn your words in the backyard, bury

your lines under rich top soil and manure, underneath
the tomato bushes you used to say would be a good

place to dispose of bodies   Some days your emails
go directly to the Spam folder and I press Delete and

I enjoy it     Some days they say it's not about sweet
revenge   it's about learning you can't win 'em all...

Some days I dance
the
   night
        away

smile, laugh so loud
you can't capture it

Kerri Shying R - # 313 - The Provenance

Provenance

I haven’t used the filing cabinet

sweet oak  finely cut

since the incident

five years ago  when

he took my drafts and

stuffed them in the rubbish

I saw pages  specked

with tea leaves  stinking

of the sushi  he took for lunch

at work    after that I was

the squirrel  I held it all

inside my cheeks

and put on forty pounds

of firm hard flesh

a hundred  more

of inconsequential data

kept tchotchkes            the driftwood

round the hollow logs

of safety       so today

I climbed this tree

the sky all blues

my heart  fast-beating

kept the rhythm

still

Kit Kelen #607 - it begins

607

it begins

for Cat

harder with the barrow

harder with the spade, the fork

harder uphill

and more timid down

the spread ache

like a gift of dance

turns us through days

remembers

forgets

it begins

all the years of us

counted, amaze

things from the year of my birth

are surviving

all breakfast to consider

we like a list

the sky as in

here rain fell

you listen to the roof now

harder to remember

harder to forget

there’s nothing much

before our time

except somehow we’ve to be

strain is a gift

of knowledge to come

the cough comes on

what we know now would kill a dog

lights burn in the mirror behind us

head height in front

why are they shouting now?

cough goes on

every god clamours for prayer

so let them

let fools tell fear

let them tell what can’t be known

as if other bodies

were anticipated

we know better

chime in with wise saws

drowse in the day

now that sleep’s wakeful

the forgetting begins

that’s a deep forest

it’s almost as far as we can remember

is there a doctor will beat on this chest?

when did this cough begin?

inches closer – the fatal star

the sun we cannot know

it begins

harder with the barrow

harder with the spade, the fork

harder uphill

more timid down

out here radio still crackles

you can hiss back too

the worse the news

the less surprise

get over yourself

is what they all say

nod off in the show

rage fades with wisdom

where’s love to shelter?

a mind’s eye glint persisting

we head off salt and pepper

we come back full of snow

children see in your hands

the amazement of time

like blood now that you know where it goes

the world is heavier

we must tread lightly

I think it must be beginning today

and yet we’re still to shine

Rob Schackne #450 - Since You Asked (3)

Since You Asked (3)


Light searches
for lightness
for the dance
a wave here
a light there
in darkness
dance floor
sea floor
the night
ends so fast
the writing room
that stretches
to the edge
do they know
call it zenith
call it radio
or a poem
my dancing theme
goodnight

Kerri Shying R - # 312 - The writing room

The writing room

Inside the sweet small

 space of home

where all familiar scent

 accrues

gold waves the arm

 my lucky cat   counts time

a metronome 

 the breath of life intoned

part-made dolls are travelers

  in here  this study    burgeoning

my life  it washes on the shore  unreason

is the filer’s taxonomy 

 that

 and chancing

on the hour  when

lightness  dances through

that door

Kit Kelen #606 - an idea entertains me

606

an idea entertains me

all birds are otherworldly

trees are for forage landed

find the light lost in the ground

we don’t know how to live here

who knows what else is to dig?

a hole is

or ever will

we, by contrast, are habitable

all feet

but we have never landed

twirl up for which we’re best remembered

they leave by the light far flown

a wind tears off

what we call the news soon passed

the border is the thing let grow

day and night

they have sung in

we call it that

we are joining

taken by the air

they leave by the light far flown

the spore of life

was every world distinct

and all its own idea

is it thinking makes so?

we’ll never know

it’s lovely here to be home

James Walton #70 A Bandelier of Xcruciating Lovingkindness

by these crossed arms

the spoon of my not so supple being

arcs in your direction

unadjusted by daylight saving

our out of fashioned days linger

reading back lines no better than

these fourteen hours

of love and talk and warmth

the cloudless complexion of life apparent

beyond an end of Winter haze

Rob Schackne #449 - Since You Asked (2)

Since You Asked (2)

Everything is
the same
only everyone
is speaking
so much ghost
as Kit almost wrote
soul atom
scratch down
where I was swimming before
yes the fear
of not writing
into the emptiness

a light touch 
it needs it

the same way
in the shell
the airfield directs
soldiers get
on the trucks 
and go back home

Kristen de Kline #136 Emptiness

I
I said nothing for a long time
the emptiness was chattering, heavily
why did I think emptiness would be
light
anonymous
fleeting?

poems were not writing themselves
they paused on hash tags numbers titles
down they rained:
postcards
litigation blues
bureaucratic slime
broken things
pints in the sun
birthday parties for dead girls
poetry, words and
fucked up things

II
soldiers shouted in the streets
convoys left before dawn
returned in the midnight hour
somebody tells you to fill the emptiness
with poetry paintings God
somebody tells you at the end of the day
what matters doesn't matter
and what doesn't matter  ...
languishes       out the back of Lawless
you listen to sirens     soldiers
shouting     heavy metal
thumping   you think about broken days stolen
hearts     the heaviness of emptiness
strangers     disappearing
all sorts of fucked up things

Kit Kelen #605 - the work

605

the work

(in silence)

comes to us courtesy of

truth to be told

here’s the moment

makes morning of

I am that speck in spectacle

soul atom

scratch down

where I was swimming before

out of the other world

make the clock home

all the day’s pockets a traffic roar

and chime of next-to-do

fair frost out there

so it’s telling tea

here where the sun says

east of us in

through glass

let to light

things come to their definite lines

as if meant

from under some stray fold of I am

pages poke out

blank to be written

and already there

mainly eavesdropping

just noting what’s

breath at a time – the inspiration

skins scroll back to reveal

how the world is written

I believe everything will wait on

just one star shone

just me alight, just now

companion of the word, the way

just you to hear and see

Rob Schackne #448 - Get Up The Scaffold

Get Up The Scaffold

Billions of worlds 
I had to choose from
a thousand people on one bike
fucked it up real quick
lie cheat and grab
we grabbed this one
we’d had any sense
we’d have feared our own
and fought much harder
but lay me out with care
don't think I'll be walking down
innocence or experience
I sometimes forget
between this day
and the next
nothing wins

Rob Schackne #447 - Since You Asked (1)

Since You Asked (1)

At the end of a dream

you try to reach for them
but your arms are pinned
they are shouting out
crying libera nos a malo
there are sparkling birds
and no one else except
the people in the hole
you shout for help
but voice has no sound
when help does arrive
they push you into the hole
night falls and the stars arise
you wake up and make some coffee
and wonder about the broken day

Kit Kelen #604 - telling my story

604

telling my story

sit up and bark

once we were seldom and few

stump and waterbright

hard to see

hard to know

parrots carry the tree

clouds carry like a ladder across

before the song

I think everything was

hadn't meant to be

was anything always?

not even a street

less alley

as in shadow fell

well where I have gathered

and drew

here's me in that mirror

and look for you there

how tiny I've got with the distance

tell everyone

tell everyone's story

I find my voice in all things

they have a voice in me

Rob Schackne #446 - After Du Fu

 

      After Du Fu

       The emptiness
       takes leave
       time passes
       the speaker
       is erased
       absence fills
       with memory
       everyone is
       the same
       everyone only
       lonely

Kristen de Kline - #135 Somewhere behind the clouds

I
Friday night, sweet smelling dope wafts
lazily from the crack house down the street

sirens circle our apartment, tangle with crackly
music from the squat, loud riffs of "Smoke on the Water"

light up the 'burb, turn a deeper shade of purple
bruises, love-bites lining my flesh, winding

their way up my neck like a fresh ink job
blue etched tear-drops fall   slowly

bleed me dry

somewhere
behind
the
clouds

II
At the back of our rental, another crack house
fire-bombed, tagged with random letters: P S K G

lime green graffiti break-dances along the back fence     more
sirens, we can tell the difference now between ambos and cops,

another riff, "Stairway to Heaven", three blue uniforms run past
the front door     one of them's out of sync, I can hear him

wheezing, out of breath     you ask: do you feel safe here?
what   sort   of   a   dumb   question   is   that

III
Last time we caught up

I was drowning in water
and in wine

soldiers shouted in the streets

I watched stars    fall

and convoys leave at dawn    then dusk
then dawn     again

I saw the stars, saw how they shined
for you

somewhere
behind
the
clouds

Kit Kelen #603 - point vanishing

603

point vanishing

life's a flash

and then you're ash

you don't see me when I disappear

I could have decided to be someone once

but there really isn't a moment for that

every name slips from the thing it was

it's all in tomorrow not coming – I'm here

it's already happened

the poem turns into news

like a meteorite so called

because struck

there isn't the moment to say

it's like these words you won't remember

wake up one morning

and you're the dinosaur

and not in the room anymore

ash or under earth

last bone speck

borne off

is the creature even invented yet?

so many beginnings life is

so strange to be here

Rob Schackne #445 - "Fight night"

Fight night
two opposites
not Mayweather
not McGregor
twelve rounds
good versus evil
a good right cross
a knockout ah
let the angel say
now fuck off
we finally rest
this foolishness

Kit Kelen #602 - shopping in the boxes

602

shopping in the boxes

lost among the all-I-have

so many languages to forget

like a drawer of socks goes on forever

so much light lost to looking

and a map's like that

all further than the eye

that's the whole point

planets there revolve

round stars we can no longer name

the ornaments are gathered dust

and everywhere we've been

must still smell of us

down to delve

indulgences of this church remain

like so much paper scratched

you'd never know though

the furniture of where I sat

the bed of where I lay

love, too lies curled in its precious corner

must be found out

there isn't where you catch up with yourself

but where else could you go?

mainly you'd call it clothing

it's for a statue gathers snows

and mud, cracked sun

for every weather

all at the night at the foot of those stairs

some old magic settled

like dust beam moted ages past

dark blizzard nights

and crash through atmospheres to home

and to hold

the precious long lost

roll into a little ball

come cockroach to its corner

same old bone as dug from scratch

buried all alone

and among the all-that's-lost

one wonders to be here

one wonders to be at all

Rob Schackne #444 - "yes I hear it all"

yes I hear it all
salt and vinegar
piss and wind
the scream of the butterfly
the mosquito of course
we want the world
a tender sound
I hear you Issa
gently buzzing
like a rusting radar
ticking at the stars

Kit Kelen #601 - a star fell

601
a star fell

out of a rabbit's hat
here-I-am

tiger dust
all as-if

glimpse and then gone
that's how we're lived

like a highway
lost us
in the getting here

all kinds of animals
I am
aren't you?

and only
as each imagines

flight winged
where else?

now lit

all as noted
made mind's-eye
and having hoofed

paws forward
I'm typing direct
onto the screen

into the lake reflected sky

it's in the deeps
I follow along
fine fish

just with some casual phrasing
cloud scud
and frayed so far
you can't hear anymore

it's like a poem
is working on me

as if I'd been led
at the worm's first turning

here
as if now it's for me
to sort out it out

to work out
how to go on

Kerri Shying R #311 - Bee fly low

Bee fly low

how like the flower   I am

no  twenty four hour  news cycle

a closed umbrella   at nightfall

shy against the moon  

churning  dreams  expelling

colour to the dawn

Rob Schackne #443 - "Alas, this is not treasure"

Alas, this is not treasure
archeologists will only say
what rubbish, how it ended up
in the middle of the Pacific
what manner of people were they
nothing benign is cast away
whether poem or plastic bag
food refused, ideas discarded
yesterday or the day before
the future they didn't want
why is this a sermon, won't
you say it's more rubbish
the ocean has its own problems
it ebbs and flows without us
it gazes sweetly at the moon?

Kerri Shying R # 310 Behold, it's REM!

Behold, it's REM!

strain the day for dreams 

that came the night before

wiry tales of justice  meet  the verdicts

spoken  bony cage  reverberate the

house band  for your  funky blood-sponge  heart  

  keep pumping  for the morning  let  the grey

come gold to blue  the thin ice

overwritten   with one more

little clue see  more time strains

pop stars up and die the world wind blows

below your feet  

it's sleep

Kit Kelen #600 - the day beginning where I am

600
the day beginning where I am

and by itself unaided

my stain spread

and how for you?

much thus
it was to be expected

light come to us
for miracle

who'll call Earth's turn other?

I'm all miracle myself
so far from understanding

I might as well be
otherworldly

microscopic
in the great scheme

I'm here
and every corner's

come to light

then shadows
gather me indoors

as thought

and now you see
the scale of things

and there you are

and now there's
all to do

Rob Schackne #442 - Tibetan Bang (redux)

Tibet Bang

A magic pudding
I’m a bit dismayed
I often write about war
now this peace & quiet
the waist-high snow-line
leads me high into Tibet
& except for the hundred
wheels of no impression
why should I be angry
I’ve spun it all my life 
(how many has it been)
the ice melts of a season
soldiers shout in the streets
convoys leave one day
history what a con
yessir just a vapour

Kristen de Kline #134 Somewhere

it happens in stages   unravelling
different incarnations, amped up

speeds,  fleeing places people things
          nothing
seems to happen except the rain comes down

relentlessly, drenches the front door mat
seeps into the garage under the aluminum

roller door     clouds burst, the dam breaks
open that way or this     didn't see that coming,
did you?

it happens in stages   fleeing
lie low
lose yourself and lose time
vanish

you wake out of a dream within another dream about another life another you    

you scribble a line, something about another day    
does it burn, burst  
break
down

is the day as blue    as    the sky is here,    is it
as    faded    as the afternoon light, somebody sneaks
in a kiss - where did that come from?

it doesn't matter how far we've gone
it is never    where you I him her    wants us to be
doesn't matter how I speak, how I
break   it just doesn't
make any sense
anymore

at the end of the day
we bury stray feelings
in poems
tangle them up in lawless
lines, wayward words

at the end of the day
we drown in water
and  in wine
somewhere
behind
the
clouds

Kerri Shying R # 309 - The NDIS say no then it changes it's mind and says yes takes my things away

The NDIS says no then it changes it's mind and says yes takes my things away

point me to the smart measuring

accountant’s  rapacity trajectory 

that says I can be

or not be  let to plan  up my

           

next year  forget

I am not a business  forget

that it is sending me to the darkest

spaces  of untrust   the transactional

temple-gunner  with a ticking timer

has returned    and sends me letters

sends me forms  tells me

get this by then  and he will say

if I am deserving of the things

I already have   the limp the nightmares

the falling over breaking bones

a webster pak  and constant pain  I don’t

know if I have it in me to convince these dills

again  or if I will just slide away

leave something better whole

Kit Kelen #599 - take a line and run with it

599

take a line and run with it

think of the first track ever

long before an ant stepped out

there had to be some twinkle twinkle

meant a world went round

on track I mean

some satellite followed

there was no meaning then however

we still cast an eye around

puppy and sniff

who’s been here before?

I said first on the island

brought the bush to heel

a generation polished chrome

could be a dribble of ink

or instruments misread

a hairline crack unravelling

so you’re in two minds

fish reeled in

lines intersect

take one and follow

where those wings went

now it’s blue

traipse about, saunter

follow a line and lose your way

lie low

vanish

have a sense of them on your tail

lose them too

and they were reading my every move

or I must have imagined it

now where are we?

where has this got us?

are you following this?