Ken Trimble # 10 If ( inspired by song La Maza lyrics by Silvio Rodrigeuz, sung by Mercedes Sosa

If I didn't believe in madness
If I didn't believe in the thrill and dread
If I didn't believe  in every crack of light
If I didn't believe in the hope and fear
of every lost path
If I didn't believe in the scales,
in the reason of balance
If I didn't believe in my road
If I didn't believe the space between
sound
If I didn't believe in the silence.

What would be
What would sanity be without
madness
What would living be without
death
What would light be without
night
What would hope be without
love
What would balance be without
falling
What would space be without
stars
What would silence be without
the roar.

If I didn't believe in desire
If I didn't believe in what I believe
If I didn't believe in goodness
If I didn't believe in every wounded
soul
If I didn't believe to even bother
If I didn't believe in listening
If I didn't believe in what stays
If I didn't believe in what fights .

What would be..

Kit Kelen #912 - rooster mechanics

912

rooster mechanics

all this that the shed

angles of tin

and smoke to stand in

half paddock already

last of the fixed stars grazing

who knows which kiss is death

a peck?

cluck this

chicks scatter

how's my comb?

numbers?

have them in my head

a leap as if in flight

even a fire will teach patience

distance has a long way to come

a traipse I call it, don't you?

so many degrees

keep cranking

keep cranking

and don't you even touch

it's this way ladies

shy twice until

chicken or the egg?

you choose

from other fences far in rain

call as if kingdom too

there's some silence I won't be

that's between of breath

this sun is a problem we solve

all under heaven at work

a doodle-day

a doodle-doo

each acre subtly different

long winter's wish

by valley mapped

we'll all be in the soup

Ken Trimble # 9 A pair of ratbags

In our love
there was madness
laughter and death, and a
lot of weird shit.

The struggle to love
strangled the love out of
our love.

It was a fever
that went out of control,
your wild heart
sent me crazy.

At Salisbury's bookshop
I bought you a book
of love poems by Neruda.

That day was some day.
We were doomed from
that first kiss.

We argued on the bridge,
there was death on our lips
when we said goodbye.

Kit Kelen #911 - notes towards ZOOM

911

(notes towards)

zoom...

a side of me is lamb

and in the shanks I'm pony

from sparrow's fart

till cows come home

I'm busy bee

I'm bower bird

electrifying eel

and great galah in treetops

some may well say batty

I monkey with

well... something fishy

often play the goat

bright, bushy-tailed,

but whose?

(bear with me)

and over shoulder

pookah too

there are those days when I breathe fire

to rise from my own ashes

but those are names we must not say

dinosaur likewise

call me old fashioned

to beaver at the dam this way

or little beast front bottom department

meerkat to attention

cock-of-the-walk

and bristle comb

lock horns

paw dust

see red

see all

it's eagle-I

and landed once on the moon's bright side

come cosy

burrow in

a nervous tick

or waspish

puss-in-boots

a lick for paws

and lap it up

while test the claws

mousey

dear doe-eyed

vixen oft

and cougar later

drink fish

ratty

weekends lie in hammock, sloth

play possum

till you're up a tree

peacock preen

then swan the party

am I rabbiting on?

I-turtle held the world up

I-tortoise beat the hare

strut, fret

though you may say ham actor

each plays his/her most dogged part

hot on heels

pig out if there's handy trough

simply sometimes wolf down

then I am mammoth

whale

toad in the hole too

frogsbother spawn

at whose pace in this rain?

I crow

so many of me are to choose

and still a side of me is lamb

lie down with the lion

in shanks all pony

stubborn as ... guess who?

and subtle sly, alliterate

please let the grass grow high

in the office worm

weave webs

inch ant

to warm the hive

just peck at chicken feed

all these friends I am

delicious!

bring herd home

you're foxed?

be owl-wise in the know

capture me in your mind's eye

can't very well but help

goulash in the pot

with Bambi, Skippy, Babe

yes grasshopper

eat me, drink me

I've come by shanks

from sparrow's fart

still part of me

blackfaced lamb

cannibal snack

or vegan treat?

taste this

and you decide

Ken Trimble #8 Footsteps brother

I still have trouble at her death,
I saw a body with blue feet,
her eyes were open and her mouth
did not speak.

My numbness knew no time,
the night before I massaged her
feet,

and the night before that
I watched Close encounters,
a boat lay on its side in Mongolia.

I had sunk my fourth can of beer
while Dreyfuss carved his mystic mash.

I was getting drunk while you were
getting dying.

Bruised and battered, body born to die,
I wanted to taste the fire on my tongue.

If the water was clear enough,
if the water was still enough
perhaps I could have seen
the warning sounds on your
milked breast.

That night I cried to the wind
and sleep.

Footsteps before the October dawn,
brother, brother, our mother has died.

James Walton #104 after the Solstice

a full moon comes

the sky wrung out in cold acrylic

a communion wafer

all day it has lingered

blown out of the night

now in anchor against drift

whispering

the falling point

of water

is the distance

between

a velocity of tears

and the upbeat

from anticipation

to departure

evening mist tangles wipers

transfers the rest of my life

into a slower arc

a tardis convergent

this glove of Winter’s challenge

a beauty spot freckle

horizon dawdle at light fall

your animal self knows the truth

make fire eat a warm meal

love settles in the spaces

of the splotchy engraves of living

the lunar tease can wait

Kerri Shying R #476 - the winter here is sunshine gloved up inside that velvet ( for Gail Hennessy)

for Gail Hennessy

I expected those clouds today  as full as purple damsons

  hung ripe and low across the flatness of the rooftops

Islington   Hamilton   Mayfield   to split      into warm

  gold  juiced-up sunset   rather than the rain    that

came and went   a ceremony for alighting from the car

the winter here is sunshine  gloved up inside that velvet

that face   peeping out enough  to stop us straying off to

   snow to   other lovers   ski field  holidays    tropical   islands

the the stuff of dour people      here    we make damp fires

    the most we have  to find  in May   our gum boots 

this rush of plums    the red of Poinciana  kisses    wait

Ken Trimble # 7 Notice

I noticed the junkie scratching his arm on the train,
I noticed the drunk singing sweet Jesus,
I noticed the hookers on Grey Street,
I noticed the studs in her nipples,
and I noticed the books on her shelves,
Emma Goldman, Patti Smith,
I noticed people drowning
off Christmas Island,
I noticed the rise of bigotry and hate,
and I heard the sounds of storm troopers
marching through our streets,
I noticed the last gasp
of a dying woman,
and a child crying in her crib,
I noticed the war being played out,
entertainment for the bored,
I noticed the flood,
I noticed the fire,
I noticed the cyclone,
and I noticed the tangerine sky as
the forest went up in smoke,
and I noticed the darkness enveloping our
earth,
I noticed the light.  

Kit Kelen #910 - because I am soon vanishing

910

because I am soon vanishing

living the sixth great extinction 

 

for Kerri and Ken

knit tea

sing Spring

fold out the stream

bugger the creaking bones

and with ferocious calm

let's call it

I like the wobble on its axis

a martyrdom of trees

and then when we've buggered the place

and the weather comes indoors

I like my innids where they are

no shells bombs bullets please

the turnaround the fire and tilt

that's just for politeness

and we Malthusian, too much

in a fruitfly doom

still edge on to live

that's where we are

all a comical leer

still standing

for plastic

and that's a wrap

be where I am and can

knit tea

sing Spring

fold out the stream

bugger the creaking bones

Kerri Shying R # 475 I am the inside-outside electric I'm a moment's notice ( For Roberta P)

For Roberta P

flapping washing  in the cold blue sky   the magpie yard

of fruit trees    eucalypts    three walls  of theatre sets  the

other people’s sheds   all   triangular rooflines   and corrugated

metal      fiberglass  just veiling    doppleganger shadows 

planting     mending     tinkering    power points on porches

I am the inside-outside   electric    I’m a moment’s notice

ready  for the multi-culture   of my herbed kebab   my

flayed Moroccan chicken   and  vege snags   felafel 

I make hommos   you’d think you died and went to heaven

the end Endeavour  left us     just to be precise    how nice

if it were   pick and mix   in afterlives  as well

Ken Trimble #6 Yes

We sat on the beach at Skye
looking out to where mountains
stared back at us. I was expecting
knights on horseback
charging through the mist.

Our picnic began with a swig
of wine from the bottle with
the cork floating around an ocean of
pinot noir.

We cut the cheese and tore the bread,
it was our way of celebrating communion.

An hour passed or was it two?
We never spoke
it would have ruined it,
language always does.

The following morning
I walked with her on a country road.

I leant towards her and kissed her.
She smiled and said yes so I kissed
her again.

Kit Kelen #909 - the place in my dream is home

909

the place in my dream is home 

 

and dreaming

years of the night

come to me

weather stuck

as again

creek's run

here's a book of smoke

a home in this dream

where I've never been before

muddied boot

Lisbon subway

criminals we are

who travel in dreams

traffic in

all animal at it

there's never

how we got to here

but rain comes tapping

footsteps pass by

bird, leaf

matched at

whisker tin

rose smoke

bullock beside

here's my history cloud stuck

God bless where they've gone

it sobers

the dream is a vanishing

this is my home

hung up for power lines

tennis shoes flung

and through the dream

a trickle creek

stood mist

shadow lapped

in the fallen reflect

imagine if a road went by

cannot break our spell

here's a new day

worked to light

must build the fire again

alone in the naked dream

sometimes find voice

tucked in with under this

slept this far then why not on?

what's left

a glimmer

safe in our own light

wake not yet day

still warm from

go back go back

to another dream's light

for a season we'll come to yet