Kit Kelen #1411 - life is a bit too exciting just now (on the day declared 'catastrophic')

1411

life is a bit too exciting just now

on the day declared ‘catastrophic’

white sky

blue through

waiting for the wind

fire’s motto runs

‘until there’s nothing left to burn’

last night on the screen

where loss is ash

and this is the news

moon of an eerie colour

it’s breezeless

smoke stands in all things now

now it’s indoors

we ourselves soon

cruel as fact or weather

how many days are a climate?

white sky

blue through

waiting for the wind

stands all around us

self-made wraith

for fear, for greed

fools won’t join the dots

it’s as if smoking had taken us up

and every animal bemused

wallabies eat the last lettuce

bats flap in the walls

it could all go today

no dark might do

smoke thick and thicker

getting ready to go

having heard of the burning spears

of the freight train unrailed

of the all towards us

just a little cough

could be biblical

white sky

blue through

waiting for

a speck

a mote

grit in the eye

how little a cinder

we’ll make of this blue

parallel lines never meet

 

jeffree Skewes #132 Leave behind

every single piece
collected
all the spares
their just in cases

strapped on roofs
in the shed under others
stairs no one wanted
they're not 10's

cut the habits these
worn as robes preach
their long-gone chances

only bones seen
remind us
they're kept inside
the same every year

I'll gather now on-demand
spring a life going forward
raise the young

pass them on
release those twigs
watch the gliding
from the mountains

stick around
take a stroll
you just be
here

in the morning






image: Left behind / watercolour on paper /  JMS / 30x30cm / 11/11/ 2019

KA Rees #45 - Filthy Hide

Filthy Hide

With lyrics from Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

I never lied

When I called Scott Morrison son of coal,

Or that other minister up in Queensland, who makes his money

digging holes. I never lied when I rang

the hotline to report a government of firebugs

while we wait for policy, we are afraid to melt

into the sky but they would rather say it’s the latte sipping brigade—

if you look at it, the numbers of people in the city

and country worried about climate change

are the same and they outweigh the naysayers.

But like a moth that enters the light there’s only

one way to go and it’s made of wood and wire—

A truth for a truth; we weren’t the ones who lied.

Kit Kelen #1410 - be woke

1410

be woke

song to sing while packing the car

when you might not see your home again

yes let’s be woke

wonderful word

the right one

for these times

have you noticed

the alarm is ringing?

how drowsily

we must dream on

dinosaurs did

and we do

it started out

with just a few chimes

now someone’s singing out –

have you seen the wind?

can you smell the smoke

can you feel the fire?

keep digging up

and shipping off

keep dollars rolling in

build the dry

and stoke the fire

it’s lovely to be sleeping

to have a good lie in

or do you think you’re better woke?

a different kind of blue this sky!

you’ll be kept dreaming by the smoke

chimes louder and longer

and who wouldn’t hear?

ringing and ringing

like a phone, like a friend

and whose big paw

comes crashing down

to kill the clock again?

later there’ll be flood as well

but first we face these flames of hell

it’s daylight in between the cracks

says time for us to wake

and those of us already up

ask ‘what else will it take?’

oh give me a home

where the dinosaurs roam

and rule the roost

and rake it in

keep digging in the dark

all this smoke will keep us dim

‘oh don’t politicise my fire

my flood, my famine, war’

they like to keep us sleeping

it’s what dinosaurs are for

a pretty simple choice by now

and what’s more sacred than this cow?

you’ll be kept sleeping by the smoke

old wars make the new ones easy

we’re good at what we do

which is to dig until we choke

started out

with just a few chimes

‘oh don’t politicise my fire

my flood, my famine, war’

and whose big paw

comes crashing down

to kill the clock again?

or do you think you’re better woke?

yes, let’s be

it’s a lovely word –

the right one

for these times

Jeffree Skewes # 131 Speaking comes later

Poem words

have thoughts too

thinking them ideas 
form a bit like dreams 

on mountain slopes
tilt toward the sea
or gaze up

one moment alone half
foretelling the next

near missing
the remains

decor it's craft 

speaking comes later

so it all begins
destinies pass

writing makes

poetry 

last

KA Rees #44 - Abandoned cooling tower

Abandoned cooling tower

The eye shows a funneled view of sky, light

filtering down like dawn edging the side of a mountain

the great green circles at its base, industrial fairy rings.

The tower casts heat up into the sky,

wind swept from portals

and with its generation lit houses and cafes,

streets in the chill morning air, but now

it's like a trap for the fey

man-made to steal their light.

Rob Schackne #1025 - The Fires

The Fires

A fire starts in a hollow log

or leaves in a branch, so hot
suddenly that creatures flee
who know enough of heat
they've heard it all before
I ask if you're in danger, you say
not red like a Rothko painting
won't stop here unless water kills
that fire log, which you say is
sucked away from passion
or cleverness, exploded
out of carelessness, now

utes loaded up with stuff
spare the home and shed
burn off the fear, courage
for the days that follow, heave
in smoke, what frankly is no more
look back on, then disappear.

Kerri Shying R # 591 Big Fella comes to town

Big fella comes to town

who wants to see the pray-er
lighting from a helicopter  haloed out with
sparks and ashes of your houses
horses feed you had stored up

a fast glance over the Club Taree
in fauxgan strides a beer
with someone withered a woman
even suitable for biting down on
by the press release the fat

cheques thousand for the grown-ups
four hundred for the kids we all know
money is what they all want it's
bread a circus

a dancing bear

Stuart Rawlinson #110 - The switch

Like crossing a border

to a country, half understood

customs that follow new habits

a bow to new gods

a nod to the old

long cemented rituals

burnt into the purple night

the air is moist, thicker 

than you are used to

a different taste on your tongue 

despite only a night from home

and the people, busy themselves

willingly Sisyphean, and

enjoy the drudge 

hoping the change brings

minor accolades 

Kit Kelen #1409 - all hypocrites or we love the animals we eat

1409

all hypocrites

or

we love the animals we eat

notes towards a possible villanelle

I eat the beast I would not kill

but cosy up and tickle too

coal lights my dim night

drive a dinosaur

in my dreams I lie so still

a fish’s lovely face is sweet

who’s not a hypocrite?

tell me

the devils have their cares

first I witness

then I tell

I read the tree

I would not fell

they light my cigarettes for me

I wouldn’t buy their shares

the images of wrong entreat

how it excites

see fly the missiles

hit the mark

all this harm is done for me

they never call my name

take torture － 

not a finger to lift

first I witness then I tell

no need to make my own terror

never made the world go round

but booed the goose

expect the safety and comfort and care

we’re not prepared to give

shut up upstairs, party’s down here

tread fingers off the rungs below

pay tax? but why? vote for my gift

I hear you by these evil means

it’s rare earths from a slave pit

power my feeble voice

ventriloquy! the devils speak

at every moment, every stage

I exercise a choice

my virtues and my vices

and my vice versa － you

call, if you like, all are a pose

and one day we will decompose

I drive a dinosaur as well

know how to pave the path to hell

my causes are more than a few

keep powder dry, keep my flag furled

I eat the beast I would not kill

but cosy up and tickle too

first I witness then I tell

but will I whimper? will I yell?

would you rather mock the waking ones

or work to save this world?

KA Rees #43 - Fires from Space

Fires from space

From space, look down—see red nails break

new lines the face of hundreds of thousands

of acres razed, the animals burned; the schools and homes,

burnt umber, gold ochre; lines of fire—this clarion.

The deep dark of mushroom clouds

billow the belly of a Boeing 737-800

a man takes a picture and tweets it,

makes a sign for the folk lodged in the teeth of it.

The passenger on flight VA935 from Sydney to Brisbane

muses about a golden record attached to a craft,

launched into space. He watches it

complete flybys of Jupiter, Saturn, and Saturn's

largest moon, Titan. He watches pictures of storms,

magnetic fields, sees data points for cosmic radiation,

images of the moons, a dirty grey snow spilling across

the YouTube video. Sees the most distant thing humans

ever made, this message board cast into space.

Remembers the words: This from a small

distant world a token of our sounds, our science, our images,

our music, our thoughts and our feelings. We are attempting to survive

our time so that we may live into yours. Looks down at the smoke

a vast thick pall of dirt, a purse of the lips for the folk holding fast in the flames

an image of a metallic body engulfed, such thin material in which to hold

a soul—birds, whales, Laurie Speigel. Anatomically correct male

and female sent across the sky. Our thoughts and feelings; this gold ochre.

Kerri Shying R #590 - some of the fires were so fierce they created their own weather systems

some of the fires were so fierce they created their own weather systems

please it said save your water the time may come
we use potable water to fight these monsters

please we said save our water the time may come
when growing cotton with rivers diverted to monster

cotton farms costs us all our lives    if    you can ignore
the bodies of the fish of centuries dead

already the economists totting up in rows the profit
the loss not factoring the sacred creatures in the wash

river monsters flower internal tides of systems
made so long ago         some of your  corruption was so fierce

it created            its own
weather            system
adding    and subtracting
as if                    zero
were a place    of peace
not            the vacuum in
the eye of     this
storm

Kit Kelen #1408 - space

1408

space

it’s everything from a list beyond

to we must be a part

blue vanishing

and greetings

the atom I

and mirror awe

take scale and speed

consider

how big a crater will you make?

meaning we’re projectile too

or floaty motey

round we go

turns out it’s a sphere

not this round the yo-yo thing

but the lot

who’d have thought?

take this

suggesting it has bounce

picture paw then

hit the wall

who comes off worse?

you should have seen the other world

I call that spin

but it’s so lonely

the bubble blow

powered with wonder

if you manage it

there’s fear

the vastness though

is despite the numbers

mainly all between

think mum and dad

and their rude bits

on the gold LP

sent so so far

think of those greatest hits

no needle

no air to vibrate

so little to breathe out here 

KA Rees #42 - Three Hours from Midnight

Three Hours from Midnight

Three hours from midnight

a bloodless end to a blinding day

the heat strike like an insects pitches

inside your brain.

Two hours before midnight,

spraying skin wet with aloe, the dust

caught between your toes

rose like a demon, carry me home.

Last hour before midnight

bits and bobs, bending to swoop

on a child’s sock, an aeroplane scuttled mid-flight,

of candy-coloured Lego, and so.

Last hour before midnight, minutes

left for drawn-out eyes, the heat has finally lifted

but for the smoke; acrid chemistry of popping

eucalypt flowing through an open window.

Rob Schackne #1024 - Let Me See

Let Me See

                    "We call upon the author to explain"
                               Nick Cave (2008)

ah well texture
like character
gives dimension

the rounded bees
pump the sky
to invent the trees

rub till raw
the supply is huge
compare & contrast

what's missing
the prime example
of pleasure

as much texture
as an apple
or knowledge

let me see
what the future brings
will there be joy

Jeffree Skewes #130 Millennia

Oh millennium
the digital one
you proved
so not eventful

conspirators flew a bug
decades ago
auspicious they hoped
clocks blew up
somehow time
in-fractions
would be lost

although the seed
seemed properly planted
fruit and harvest proved
naught
when will we ever learn

predictions still daily
nobody really counts these
doses of disaster-dread
we still feed

some flooded minds
more sensible
thought it just a bug

virtually
without a head
grew more and more and ...

no centre sides or tracks
now they party like it's
nineteen ninety-nine
still dancing

our clocks reset
00 it's ok and
live to tell the tale
whose dog was wagged
we'll never know

nowadays it's common
and social
to come and fake
anytime
anywhere
anything

rewind
reflect
be certain

is this the bug?

already here
once every thousand

so small
we never really see





image: Milenius bugger / motherboard / gold foil / digital photograph - JS 2019

Kerri Shying R #589 - beautiful home desirable neighbourhood

 beautiful home desirable neighbourhood

reverse parking in the bus I've got a brake
stuck on I'm facing the crowd who
as puzzled as me reinforce my love
of Newcastle people they wash me with
warm smiles of encouragement  while I
fumble  to wrench it into off hang on mate

ask for help it seems obvious but there's
no better way to clear your plate than expressing
how you really are RUOK
I'm fucked for fat light on for loving you

Kit Kelen #1407

1407

Kessler syndrome

it’s wrong to wish on space hardware

I wish, I wish, I wish you’d care

               - Billy Bragg

some might say junk

but won’t delete

there’s always the risk

debris

what if it goes wrong?

the over and above all

like a diamond from

shine, burn

swerve of the atoms

think dinosaurs in space collide

skies fall, as long foretold

all we’ve told goes round

won’t quite go away

lawyers of it murmur

out of this world cascading

a rubbish edge and faraway

come home

it’s like the facts, like seas

washing-go-round

who’ll watch?

there’s that which we won’t know

the up above’s all that and more

pluck the idea out of

map the hours, call out

how if we lose low earth orbit

we’ll all be back in the fifties

in vastnesses, all falling, falling

come to me my

gone things, bones of what

thought, felt, was

all toys

a footprint

how many will have signed by then?

tipping point of unintended consequence

tick tock

and stops

wind up again

‘heaven’s above’

they’ll say 

KA Rees #41 - Rainbirds

Rainbirds

A tempest

against the pane,

rapping knuckles drip

down over the lip

of balcony.

Or,

the beaks of birds

tapping asynchronous,

pecking against glass.

Magpies

plump wings, notes

peeling rain beading

black and white.