Tuesday, September 29, 2009


To begin
I discard my television
it has hypnotised me with its electronic eye for too long
my computer which interprets my life into bits and bytes of binary code
zero one zero one zero one zero
my mobile phone that radio waves to others my voice
haiku short text messages
snap shots of the dog
and a short video of my washing billowing in a drying breeze.

Here I cast off my obsessions
My fanatical neatness
clothes hung in the order of refracted light
hats arranged according to seasons
pots, pans and cutlery marshalled in rows of military precision
polished surfaces reflecting, reflecting, reflecting every cup poured every pot stirred
my shoe collection, stilettos, mules, pumps, slippers, sneakers, runners, uggs, thongs, sandals, boots beaded, shinny, matt, laced, and every one in its place
I leave at the second gate

Now it is time for my animal companions
The backyard frogs whose raucous cry has spread with night’s blanket
across the neighbourhood as they colonise more and more ponds
my black and white muscovy ducks with gelid blue eyes embedded in coral
The chook presented to me by friends
All are told to STAY!

I relinquish my garden
The bamboo rattling in the wind
prayer flags flapping out prayers on every gust
grapevine clutching at the oak tree
bougainvilleas celebrating colour daily
wisteria enamoured with the ficus
a temple bell that ting ting tings with the rains
the peace bells which ring out on summer afternoons in the sea breeze
and the rock chime which only kling klang klongs when the east wind blows.
I surrender the race of the seasons, leaf fall, bud, shoot, blossom, bloom-spent,
the urgent continual surge of growth and eye comforting green

Now the time to say farewell to
my landscape
I leave the salt lake awash with waves slowly drying to a crystal sea
I leave blue bush plains dotted with western myall bowed under the weight of creamy blossom
I leave the swaying expanse of fine, gold spinifex populated by the phantoms of women winnowing in the last afternoon light.
I leave gorges under the full moon, black rock walls holding up the glittering sky
I leave rock holes gouged by ice age glaciers now cupping a sweet sip of cool water.
I leave noon as the colour leaches into heat haze and the land
evaporates before your eyes

Abandoned at the sixth gate my poets voice
no more to
ambush rational thought
whisper in the silences
shout through the mundane
as it speaks the carmine blood language of the pulsing heart.

Weeping at the seventh gate –
my family

the dry kernel is taken under
in the dank the shrivelled core swells
an adventitious root shoots downward - an anchor in the dark
a plumule pale and urgent begins to journey upward
always and forever seeking
the shaft of clear white light.

Monday, September 28, 2009

no belief needed

no belief needed
equinox is
since night sky was
a bedroom roof
who saw the stars
move first
no belief needed
equinox is

Friday, September 25, 2009

love free

a love free diet
doesn't work for me

Thursday, September 24, 2009

I want

outside on the back table
he is inside
talks to Fei Fei Rob and James
the oak tree is half leafed
the builders scrape
wet concrete across metal
eaves creak expect heat
a jar of rain water is green
sooty fungus on the wax plants
the table covered in dirt
zygote blossoms
are discarded
coral coloured condoms
the wisteria flowers
except the one in the pot
child in the kitchen makes tea
my ear sings its one note melody
rats use insulation to make nests
the nodding violet is ill
he thanks someone
the clock strikes ten
I want a dove to land in the pool and drown
I want the staghorn to rise from its deathbed
I want the wind to speak
I want the goose to lay the golden egg
the sun to shine and the circus to come to town

Wednesday, September 23, 2009


when she calls I run
meet her within the hour
we are dope smoking mothers
last night of freedom
as his texts
plot his way home
we talk love lives
she snapped up the perfect man
at a bargain price
he didn't know his value
on the open market
we talk sex
she is an orgasmic flood gate
release the sea
me drought struck dunes
sand drift in the wind
i tell her
i've always loved her
i try to rub against her
at the red light
but again she says no

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

woman in shags clothing

woman in shags clothing
walked west
into the open mouth
in the muscled arms
slid down the wet throat
of the storm
she was
glassed by first drops
and swirled
overhead wires
let loose their leaves
things were
without wings
woman in shags clothing
walked west

Some people walk in the rain and get wet
Some people walk in the rain.

Monday, September 21, 2009

chewed leaf

eaten chomped devoured who has practiced gluttony injured misshapen disabled who has feasted gobbled gorged teeth torn saliva melted jaws crushed masticated visited chewed gnawed nibbled munched warped changed unrecognizable eaten chomped devoured who has practiced gluttony injured misshapen disabled who has feasted gobbled gorged teeth torn saliva melted jaws crushed masticated visited chewed gnawed nibbled munched warped changed unrecognizable eaten chomped devoured who has practiced gluttony injured misshapen disabled who has feasted gobbled gorged teeth torn saliva melted jaws crushed masticated visited chewed gnawed nibbled munched warped changed unrecognizable eaten chomped devoured who has practiced gluttony injured misshapen disabled who has feasted gobbled gorged teeth torn saliva melted jaws crushed masticated visited chewed gnawed nibbled munched warped changed unrecognizable eaten chomped devoured who has practiced gluttony injured misshapen disabled who has feasted gobbled gorged teeth torn saliva melted jaws crushed mastication visited chewed gnawed nibbled munched warped changed unrecognizable eaten chomped devoured who

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Under a Hill

There was an old woman
Lived under a hill,
And if she's not gone,
She lives there still.

Baked apples she sold,
And cranberry pies,
And she's the old woman
That never told lies.

Mother Goose

Saturday, September 19, 2009


three am question
why am i awake
with nothing
on my mind
but you?

Friday, September 18, 2009

next door

builders. nail guns. concrete mixer. shovels. sand. bricks. saws. barrowloads. black plastic. offcuts. timber. pipes. planks. working men against sky. next door.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

The Hots

She says, "Thats sick!" when I tell her I have the hots for Don Draper.
chest hair
angle grinder looks
miasma eyes
Reasons enough for the hots.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

The House

It is dark in the house
of the woman
whose husband is leaving
the dog whines at the door
the step is worn
disco balls in the window
hang without spin
crystals hold their rainbows in
Saturday night was nasty
money was mentioned
she is seeking employment
the children seem fine
there are things you wont see
crowded in corners
behind the cupboard
beneath the stair

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Third Dream

we are travelling together
you in white robes
our arms filled with poems
we paste them to walls
you are not beside me
i search
and always find you
not far away


at the beach
i watch waves
wash away a name


we applaud sunset
i see one swallow
not making spring

Monday, September 14, 2009

I Heard

goose feathers on air
motor bike exits
Sunday afternoon
Karla Sutra inserts
cold chicken in her vagina
defers to the key holder
gives her dog a bone
her erogenous zone
a cliché
the only one available
in this size
no discount today
the story is twisted
forests are trackless
wolves unavailable
Karla needs lovin’
to find her way home

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Fourth Commandment

“Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord your God. In it you shall do no work: you, nor your son, nor your daughter, nor your male servant, nor your female servant, nor your cattle, nor your stranger who is within your gates. For in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and rested the seventh day. Therefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and hallowed it."

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Sonnet CXVI - William Shakespeare

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! It is an ever fixed mark,
That looks on tempests, and is never shaken
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error, and upon me prov’d
I never writ, nor no man ever lov ‘d.

Friday, September 11, 2009

James - Getting Away With It (live)

James - Getting Away With It (live)

Getting Away With It

we eat toasted sesame seed crumbed pork
almost roasted too long wedges
blood orange with rocket salad
Greek yoghurt, mint and garlic
We are filled with delicious delectable
edible divinity
glasses of champagne brut
drank ourselves to girlhood
played the music louder
Daniel’s saving Grace
I adore with the singer
my friend bags the keyboard player
she’s out in deep water
I want his shirt glued to body
His sweat really undoes me
I hope he’s a good swimmer
All poets are now singers
She shouts as we are dancing
We dance never ending
Until she is in love with the keyboard
And I am in love with the words
That’s called living

Thursday, September 10, 2009

9 September 2009

Now here I am at the airport
dressed in black
my hair all flying Medusa
the sky lumped with clouds
a water bird
flies arrow straight
or missile
if you want modern warfare
I know
above the clouds
the sun will shine
in a seven shades of blue
one shade of cotton white world
if I look down
I will hear the voice
which says
you belong
I will see the red
and hear the heart beat.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009


I wrote this in my car at a bar on my phone before the lights turned green doors closed battery ran out as I was coming here just now a minute ago last week I was there somewhere I forget in time to
so you will know something about me or not what I have been doing on this week last month never since you saw me I was on the train I went to visit a friend after arrangements I made on my phone text message bank at the stop I saw four dead galahs two pairs on the tracks hit by the train all smashed up feathers heads twisted to one side dead eyes looking at the sky over tea she told me she coughed up blood one night after smoking all day during a binge that lasted for weeks months years when she saw the blood all bright she thought the time she imagined for so long had come had arrived was here at last cancer in mouth lungs throat she wouldn’t have to think about it much again because she was going to die she didn’t understand why it seemed like such a new idea but it was probably because of the blood all red shiny sudden like a surprise then she freaked really freaked has given up completely for good not like the other times she had to tell the doctor I smoke not tobacco I smoke and he didn’t get it until she said you know toke I toke but it was just an infection and nothing to worry about after all she drinks more now every night but at least it is not a crime she’ll never get busted she laughs liver disease may be her new destiny her brain will be destroyed just the same I wrote this in a car bar or somewhere maybe on the train with my back pack packed maybe I wrote it while I was waiting for something to happen like an accident and when it did I wanted to graffiti
on the platform scratchy-ed into windows texta-ed on the toilet doors when I came back to the beginning to go where I wanted to go where there or not a crow was eating one of the dead galahs and I felt as if it wasn’t such a waste.

Monday, September 7, 2009


From the distance
I watched a ship
slide into the harbour.
It looked as if a hill
of coloured containers
was gliding through the city.


I don't go to the beach often.
The salt in me is lake not sea.
The birds in me are black not white.
There is flame in me not wave.
The sound in me is still.

Friday, September 4, 2009

an ant

an ant on the floor
undeterred crawls nestward
through morning shadow

Thursday, September 3, 2009

more spring

Spring exposes all,
flashy, loud and dressed to thrill.
Birds and bees oblige.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009


my colour starved eyes
blurred dull by grey winter rain
devour the spring feast

Tuesday, September 1, 2009


That slut Spring – high heels
Clashes colours, bits bust out