Day 19 — you say you don’t like sweet things

A quick & tasty poem after a long first day back at work after my sick weekend. (It’s one thing to flesh up a poem over the course of several hours, then tweak polish & post it before climbing back into bed — it’s another thing altogether to craft one late at night after working two long shifts.) Despite that, I’m pleased with this one too.


cocos vox

if voices 
were biscuits 
yours would be

freshly-baked
Monte Carlos
with homemade
raspberry jam
& cream centres
if we’ve spoken
that day

— but more like
my grandmother’s
special recipe dark
chocolate biscuits 
dipped in even 
darker chocolate 
with mint on top 

if i haven’t heard it
in too long a time

Day 19 – absences (& returns)

19 black hole.jpg

The third of three pomes all exploring absence in different ways. While not completely successful, it is the most successful of the three.


*****

absence iii

every so often your absence
is more noticeable, like today

the        removed from the rainbow
a heart                   only air
the             that is all hole
a night        without any stars
the bullet                 the glass
a spine with every                  missing
the               who cannot blow fire
a fish without


BONUS POEM: April 19, 2018

It can speak for itself.


*****

Homecoming

swan wings : the saw of the air : the piece : oftentimes : of return : the peace : the safety of a new place : where no one : any one : has their way : but every one : will prosper : coming through the lock : reflection ripples : relentless birdsong : playing dogs : oars up & back : leaping into the unknown river : willowy light : birthplaces : spires into memory : across time : making a mark : that lasts

19b flower.jpg

Day 03 – poem about calcium

473099813

A day in the life of a poet in 21st Century Australia.

limestone life 

each minute
rolls down
from the roof
of your sub
conscious
with glacial
slowness
stultifying
slomo tumble
accreting
minute minerals
overtaking its
predecessors
with precise
finality
bundling
at the bottom
where after
ponderous
uncertainty
allows itself
to fall
dripping
away to
the cave
floor

& so passes another stalactital 60 seconds
in the two hours agony that is … Job Club

even writing this poem has only added
another 18 minutes to my timesheet

(Hour 06) 3.30-4.30am — #79 “One more time”

#79

One more time

i want to stand beneath stars
looking back to the beginning
surf the wave, slide the rainbow

fall like a drop into your ocean
leap from clouds, all the cliches
with you … just one more time

put my arms round your neck
get nervous, run from trouble
into trouble, drive the dark road

i want to borrow time, steal it,
once upon it, machine it — all
one. more. time.

i just want to do these extra
ordinary things with you again
one more time

…………………  … till the end of time

BingoMade

FFS! #84. I’m going batty.

(Hour 01) 10.30-11.30pm — #41 “Time for fun”

Oh man, so it turns out, despite everything, I still got my times wrong & it started an hour earlier than my foolish brain had convinced itself. So I’m already an behind the bingo ball. Story of my life.

Anyhoo, first number drawn was 41. & I groaned when I saw it.

#41
They say it’s the time for fun
They say it’s when life’s begun
I agree tit for tat
But do you say that
Knowing I’ve done your mum

They go only get better right. Let’s hope so.

Bingo_card_-_02

April 8 – Day Eight: 4 bonus poems

Today was a bit messy.  Every other day I’ve known what  I was going to do by about midday.  Today I had a few false starts, & nothing was really grabbing me.  So I worked on a play instead, read some articles online, read Bill Bryson’s awesome chapter on Pronunciation, read a really interesting chapter on how Russia’s political instability is founded on a lack of any clear geographic demarcations between its Western border & Europe … & the “vulnerability” of St Petersburg & Russia now that the Soviet “buffer zone” of satellite Ukraine, Belarus, Lithuania etc are now “independent” states.  Written a couple of years again, it shed interesting light on the current Crimea Crisis – but helped little in the poem creation caper.

So to a walk on the beach.  Which produced:

the blue seaglass sky

rain has kept all but the dedicated away
& we’re both a little stir crazy

thankfully this strip of salty dreams
is virtually deserted, even by the gulls

henley beach a zen meditation
the beach as onomatopoeia

water becomes sand, sand becomes sky
sky becomes water … & we drift between

lost on the wind, one lost in the wind
whispers of wings that cannot be seen

waves wash water over wet sand
the sucking sounds – sausages sizzling

in the seashell cemetery, exoskeletons sing
coral cartwheeling, a dead reef xylophone

& every piece of fairy seaglass i find
is washed out blue, just like the sky

*****

1. beach & chezz 1.seaglass

Images: moi

Which, while “nice”, felt like a pretty bog standard grj poem.  It will hopefully improve once April is over & I have a chance to tweak it.  (I particularly like “the beach as onomatopoeia” & will possibly explore that in more detail, sometime.)

So, home after a wonderful wet walk, & a quick stop to shop for essentials, generated this gem:

one of the disadvantages of tardiness

get home after wet beach walk, soggy
towel dry the dog, feed the dog
think about feeding myself, consider coffee
catch from an eye corner, the clock
WTH – where did the time go, calculate
we left here at 4, clock says 6.59
the reading starts in an hour
check the oven: starts in an hour there too
we couldn’t have walked for that long
would’ve said 90 minutes at most
& i only bought a few groceries
dammit! no time for food
put the frozen stuff away. & the milk.
scramble into shower, scrape face
wriggle into jeans, search for shoes
check phone.  wait.  what?  wait!
here the reading starts in 1hr47min
i really should turn those damn
kitchen clocks back — daylight savings
has been over half a week

 *****

clock_by_GruEliSm

Image: Clock by gruelism

This was followed by attendance at said poetry reading which had previously caused such panic in my efforts to get there on time.  [We shan’t mention, the act of sitting at the computer to craft said poem, almost caused me to run late (again, so to speak) for the reading. Sometimes, it seems time is destiny.]

A quick conversation post-reading & this was spewed forth upon my return home. (I had 2 hours to meet the midnight deadline.)

operational policy

my friend works for the government
in the bureaucracy … doing something
to do with housing – or something

every time he talks about it i wittily
pretend to fall asleep. people understand if i say
‘i sit at a computer’  he jokes … before going silent

till one day i overhear him spieling to a stranger
i work for the government in operational policy
we implement what the strategic policy department

decides is a good idea … we make sure it works
i see the woman’s eyes glaze over too
i sit at a computer. aaah, the joke still works

yes, but what do you actually do, she persists
um, my work means the most vulnerable
get what they need in order to live

i haven’t pretended to fall asleep since

*****

 

3. wooden_house_by_kleemass-d3jc2v7

Image: Wooden House by Kleemass

But this still didn’t feel like it.  So I returned to an abandoned effort from earlier in the day.

beyond pain
(Peaches Geldoff dies at age 25)

the deaths of celebrities are strange events
causing outpourings of grief from a deluded
General Population who believe they are somehow
“connected” just because they saw them lots on tv.
the deaths of not-really celebrities are even stranger.

while i sincerely feel the pain her father expresses
in his statement to the media, including the phrase
which titles this poem & others equally heartbreaking
Writing ‘was’ destroys me afresh &
our family, fractured so often, but never broken
the pathos is profound – his clan has done it tough.

what i do not comprehend is how the media
thinks poorly worded tweets from other
second rate celebs some of whom may even
have known the deceased are news — but FFS
Miley & Jamie — sad face emoticons are not
appropriate ways to express your condolences
when someone’s daughter, someone’s mother dies

*****

4. peaches only 3 in WA copy

Screencap moi:  “What’s up WA? – Why is it only 3 on your Reader’s Most Viewed????

But I still wasn’t happy … which leads to today’s Official Post (see new page)