Lizz Murphy - Poem 357: Drawing breath (after Carol Archer & Susan Hawthorne)

After Carol Archer's Drawing Breath & Susan Hawthorne's Green Dreams with thanks

DRAWING BREATH

Broad blue stroke

arc

curl

spread as if in water

spin

spin a green storm

leaves

green

deep

Lizz Murphy - Poem 314: The muse (after Susan Hawthorne)

 After Susan Hawthorne’s # 311 Musing on the Muses

and # 310 The Sacking of the Muses

 

  Ref: 'Are the Creative Arts a Lifestyle Choice.' ABC Triple J Hack. 

 Posted 25 October 2016; updated 26 October 2016. Online [accessed November 9, 2016]. URL:

http://www.abc.net.au/triplej/programs/hack/are-the-creative-arts-a-lifestyle-choice/7964662

Lizz Murphy - Poem 312: Dream

Dream

a pie shaped like a hand

a friend sitting by herself

the friend she is meeting

hasn’t shown

she is sad

I am happy to see her

I buy my hand-shaped pie

return to the table

She is gone

I would like to write

about the muses

Head thick with sleep

eyes dragging

words lost in the fog

feeling the long haul

no poem tonight

Lizz Murphy - Poem 214: Afloat

ASLEEP AFLOAT AWAKE

In my sleep my T'ai Chi hands

float

weightless

Slowly I lean back

My T'ai Chi body

floats

weightless

On arising I stand

for a moment

wondering

Lizz Murphy - Poem 213: untitled

yellow
transparency
tumbling air

Mark Roberts #25 Slide 24 Unknown creek crossing - Millthorpe, Blayney area.

I have only seen this creek crossing twice. It is not on a highway or a main road but I know it is somewhere around Millthorpe or Blayney. The first time I came across it I was in the car with my parents. We had probably been to visit someone and were heading back to the Mitchell Highway. Everything was dry, the paddocks were brown, trees were a dusty green and the sky an intense Australian blue. The narrow road turned a corner and there was suddenly a almost English image - willow trees along a creek bed, thick green shrubs almost growing across the road. There was a small building on the right hand side of the road covered in a rose bush or briar. The road curved to the left and dropped down into the greenness of the creek. After crossing the creek the road twisted back up through the green and back into Australia.

The image stayed with me as if a dream. An impossible image - a piece of Europe dropped into the Central West. Then years later, lost on the backroads between Orange and Bathurst, I came across it again. The same building, the same briar and the same greenness. Again it was sudden, unexpected, impossible to know exactly where I was. So now, again, the image has the quality of a dream.

Lizz Murphy — Poem 52: Dream poem

DREAM POEM

Could I find a poem in a dream before it 

evaporates Book and pen under the pillow

Are those people who decipher hieroglyphics

in the Yellow Pages?

A dust buster turned strange echidna long

spiky tail curled up and over buff private parts

we walk together through the garden

A canvas painting glued around a cardboard 

archive box and lid There are pink and gold 

patches a red line Someone pins it in their 

window complains about the line

I so need to archive

I draw the line on dreams