there’s a sense of... losing grip smooth and stainless time’s an inert shape when it gets all tangled I wonder ... what threads were pulled? my finger tips are numb to piano keys and several angles of pencil and my shoes are F major heavy ...flat launch pads for rocket engines their molten farts that … Continue reading Defrag
(a cadralor) (i) scene from a 1950s hair salon - California blue sky beehive clouds piled beside the busy scissors of a palm tree (ii) the sun is rolled out like yellow dough long arcs for cookie cutters to dance across on the feet of giants (iii) a glance from the queen her face on … Continue reading after the storm
we are two, stooped to never kiss our loving, an uncrossable bridge like the eye bulges of caterpillars these are the must-nots of our age old twiggery wrapped corset tight its cocoon, its wobbly constriction our toes behind us, societal winding back our wings in broken silhouette the scapula ache of unfelt flight image from … Continue reading Love not Condoned
I held breath for you that your leaden stare may miss my heart. A tetchy ally with heatless fire & prickled wrath, making toad skin of the battle ground. Beneath my ribs a war unseen... like the cat in the grevillea bush take your tumult and wield it with claws egregious as scythes Written for … Continue reading The Battle
I have been flirting with tree crowns dipping in and out examining their broad lace velocities I like the rake of them especially the casuarinas whose needles send ripples like ribs coursing along my unbent air. They susurrate breathy as love and I sing. Written for Whimsygizmo's dVerse Quadrille - include the word "crown"
upside-down mountains // serrated cloud ridges // and the horizon in mirrored zag // sky cleaved from earth metallic light strips listing and dark stairways of raindrops
“Mummy, if 10 x 10 equaled 50, would our paper planes fly straight?” I know the rain was heavy because the bedraggled underpass (with plinking echoes and the green glitter of smashed bottles) smells mysteriously of mint. I lift my nose and my voice to the early snare of Ravel’s Bolero adding other instruments as … Continue reading My Daughter’s Question
last week’s ant nest its red dirt still like smouldering rubble on my chest my crawling skin
(i) the moon with patina of mushroom skin premiers in a stodgy sky she’s shrouded in the feathers of candles’ breezy death. (ii) imagine if one galaxy were a grapefruit: dimpled skin and the mirrored arching through soft amber caverns what colour is the sun? (iii) a pomegranate between the flesh-white stars disguises itself as … Continue reading Still Life with Night Sky
Fay Collins "Sunset and Squally Showers, Connemara" The falling shale of a thunderbolt’s bellow cracked wide sun’s yolk a glow like breath of dragons emanated permeating sky's shelfless larder cloud syrup skein on skein perspiring down toward pigmented sea and granite blade and the steaming gratification of rainfall Written for Sarah's dVerse Poetics - Fay … Continue reading Beginning
Out of the Cave 