NB I don't think I have ever watched morning TV before. This morning, in a waiting room, I found myself confronted with 15 minutes of inanity. I don't know what channel it was and I didn't recognise the hosts. Only the poor Wiggles... I saw Emma today. You know, with the big bow and the … Continue reading Morning TV interviews The Wiggles
some shards clipped onto pine needles i saw others dangling from the cat yard roof and i knew the sky to be a mesh keeping Earth safe from the darkness beyond even in this promenade of souls the counting to eternity is fragmented as the light from diamonds
You can't fly a kite in yesterday's wind or swim in yesterday's river. You can't sing a song in an hour that is gone or tell a dead person you forgive her. If only we could leave the past right behind us as easily as water or weather. If this were the case would the … Continue reading Just wondering…
you were an eagle rejecting what school told you and climbing ever upward on thermals to those ceilings which I read about but have never touched i plateaued early aspirationally hobbled chewing philosophical cud and hating the race I didn't know for sure it would be the last time we spoke that day when my … Continue reading A Letter Never Sent
Here she lies - this complex machine palely greying, undignified flesh; eyes now always closed off from you; A coma, this failure to express. Her lips in quiet, dry repose; the blood in her heart beats loveless. The passing whimsy of her tongue - A coma’s failure to express. Like this she is just a … Continue reading Who are we?
I sit, warmly blanketed, in a bland room. The dim light on the wall opposite is an assault on my closed eyes. There’s no clock and no windows. The air conditioning hums loudly for intervals and then cuts off. My eyes water but I don’t raise a hand to brush the liquid away. Sometimes I … Continue reading PET Scan
One breast is gone the sickle moon penumbra undressed for the ruler scar beneath - a doctor’s tidiness. Misplaced highway on this smooth bend of flesh and bone. In the shower throw caution plughole deep - damp self pity swirls down cheeks heat like swallowed liquor. Firefly stings on neck nape, the waves pass hopping … Continue reading Showering
(i) Words are like glass jars, my friend. At some point, their being empty becomes blatantly obvious. (ii) i cannot see at all this place is steamy Now you're cooking with gas and it feels like nobody is watching A month or so ago, somebody posted a prompt that involved finding an old poem and … Continue reading To the PM
So, last week I cut a lot of my hair off. It used to come about half way down my back. Now - well the longest bits are about 10 centimetres and, although the hair dresser never got out the clippers, the back is very short. Like, you can't make it messy. I made this … Continue reading Impacts.
Written for Sonnet Sunday - Prompt by Experiments in Fiction I don’t fall into winter, not like the dead leaves, but charge in, daubed cheeks and white breath; eager mornings tugging aside curtains’ sheaves to see the silvering frost-blanket the night has left. I don’t fall into winter, wishing for some brakes holding arms in … Continue reading Fall into Winter (Canberra – Australia)
