karlkurla

the bush broods
on the edge of town
woodland dreams of comeback
when the gold is spent

outside today

non stop birdsong

which one

is what one

and

what one

is who?

non stop dog howl

pack animal

cries when left alone

bottle brush blooms red

against the sick green pool

tea bag half sunk

in the milky ocean

i soak and bathe in the sun

heat love bites my neck

warms my sweat made cold feet

cars prowl in the front street

low note growl

menace in the throb

the invisible neighbour

whistles deep in his rusty shed

an ant spell checks my page

cabbage moths

against the smother – me – in – summer blue sky

chart erratic flight paths

outside today

the summer sky blues

strikes me eye blue
arch over me blue
smother me blue
stun me blue
always blue
painstaikingly blue
perpetual blue
unrelenting blue
blue blue
blue blue blue
blue blue blue blue
yes mate it's blue
blue again blue
without doubt blue
fuck me blue
don't tell me it's blue
i love a sunburnt country blue
head for the beach blue
run around after balls blue
sunbake until you are red blue
no cloud blue
air con hum blue
beer o'clock blue
swimming pool splash blue
all compass points blue
morning smoko blue
lunch barbie blue
knock off blue
long afternoon with blowflies blue
only crows in the sky at midday blue
snakes out and about blue
when will it end blue
this blue
never ending blue
wake me when it's over blue

today i had the urge two

today

i had

the urge

to draw squares
and colour them
green
yellow
and black

The Angel Card

I am given the blank angel card.
The begining.
The end.
The circle round.
I am
(say all the signs)
ready to be the one I was born to be.

The blank angel
holds her hands with palms up and open.
(I have everything I need.)
 Her halo is a rising sun.
Wings are aflame.

today I had the urge

today
i had
the urge
to draw circles
and colour them
       pink
       blue
and black

Country Viewpoint ABC 2007

I have lived in the city for the last six years but sometimes my senses are tripped by the smell of sheep on a livestock transport, or the sound of crows in a blue sky and I recall the fifty years I spent living in rural and outback Australia.

I still have a house in Merredin, the heart of the Wheatbelt, in Western Australia. It is a manifestation of the hope that one day I will return to live in the country.

I was told by a local history buff that the house was transported from the Eastern Goldfields early last century. It sits with dignity between its distinguished neighbours - the town hall, on one side and the court house on the other. A direct path through the roses and past the date palm leads across the wooden veranda to the front door. The door is decorated with panels of textured green glass- the light from which gives the wide passage a cool underwater feeling.

From here, fung shui principles are thrown to the wind, as the house was designed for the arrival of the summer cool change, the Esperance doctor, the air conditioner of a bygone age. The doctor could flow unimpeded from front door to back, cooling all in its path.

This house has a welcoming and generous feel, felt by all who visit. The ceilings are lofty and changing a light bulb is a serious business. No standing on a handy chair. A ladder must be employed. But it is the walls that make visitors gasp. Four of the main rooms are decorated with pressed tin, a fashion from the 1890’s, and each room has its own design and a contrasting roof. I often wonder about the woman who chose these designs. I know it was a woman as the most beautiful and feminine example is in the main bedroom ceiling. Wreathes of daisies are the last thing you see before you fall asleep.

On a recent trip to make repairs and in between tenants I was able to live in my beautiful house for a short while. I recall sitting on the back veranda trellised with grapes, a mug of strong tea cooling beside me, my thoughts absorbed into the silence of a country town at dusk.

ink missing dream

I dream. I am reading poetry, published by bohemian male poets with beards, in an apartment supplied by their rich parents. The room is full of collected treasure. Skins of hunted animals on the floor. Icons glow gold on walls. Glass cornucopias spill tribal jewellery and cut gems. The font of the book I am reading is coloured, Times Roman, with uneven ink pressure as if it had been printed by a typewriter. Some of the letters are not printed at all but are an indentation. The word ‘this’ could read his and ‘here’ could read her.

this his
here her

Awake. I want a type writer to write poetry without a ribbon. Invisible poems. Invisible words. My invisible poetry. Half written. Ink missing. Meaning hidden.

in the mirror
at the foot of the bed
i am a blur

untitled

late afternoon
long shadows
bar code the road

less than five seconds ago

less than five seconds ago
the post woman
arrived bearing gifts
(vain hope)
visit the letter box
under a gloomy sky
find bills – advertising
and one from her majesty’s service
less than five seconds ago

untitled

cloud press grey light
still air cold limp
spent
spent
limp cold air still
light grey press cloud

cloudcloud cloudpress cloudgrey cloudlight
cloudstill cloudair cloudcold cloudlimp
cloudspent
spentcloud
limpcloud coldcloud aircloud stillcloud
lightcloud greycloud presscloud cloudcloud

presscloud presspress pressgrey presslight
pressstill pressair presscold presslimp
pressspent
spentpress
limppress coldpress airpress stillpress
lightpress greypress presspress cloudpress

greycloud greypress greygrey greylight
greystill greyair greycold greylimp
greyspent
spentgrey
limpgrey coldgrey airgrey stillgrey
lightgrey greygrey pressgrey cloudgrey

lightcloud lightpress lightgrey lightlight
lightstill lightair lightcold lightlimp
lightspent
spentlight
limplight coldlight airlight stilllight
lightlight greylight presslight cloudlight

stillcloud stillpress stillgrey stilllight
stillstill stillair stillcold stilllimp
stillspent
spentstill
limpstill coldstill airstill stillstill
lightstill greystill pressstill cloudstill

aircloud airpress airgrey airlight
airstill airair aircold airlimp
airspent
spentair
limpair coldair airair stillair
lightair greyair pressair cloudair

coldcloud coldpress coldgrey coldlight
coldstill coldair coldcold coldlimp
coldspent
spentcold
limpcold coldcold aircold stillcold
lightcold greycold presscold cloudcold

limpcloud limppress limpgrey limplight
limpstill limpair limpcold limplimp
limpspent
spentlimp
limplimp coldlimp airlimp stilllimp
lightlimp greylimp presslimp cloudlimp

spentcloud spentpress spentgrey spentlight
spentstill spentair spentcold spentlimp
spentspent
spentspent
limpspent coldspent airspent stillspent
lightspent greyspent pressspent cloudspent

cloud press grey light
still air cold limp
spent
spent
limp cold air still
light grey press cloud

he told me

he told me
his ache was rib caged and pacing
he never found flame - only ash
his pen was inked with dust
something is wrong
something had gone wrong
something was never wrong before
he told me
ache caged
flame ash
pen dust
wrong
wrong
wrong
never wrong
never wrong
never wrong
before
he told me

not there

have i held you

man upon the stair

man who who

who wasn’t there

have i kissed you

man upon the stair

not there not there

what man where

i saw your stare

upon the stair

man not there

not there not there

i saw i saw

a stair stare

a not stair stare

did i see you

on the stair

not there

i saw your stare

upon the not there stair

i love you

stare man

not there man

upon the not stair

i saw i saw i saw

not here

not there

not not not

not on the stair

not anywhere

i held you

long upon the stair

i kissed you

upon the stair

i loved you

upon the stair

not there

not there

not not there

not not not there

man kiss held love

not

kiss not

held not

love not

there man

not there man

not there

not

man stair

held him

kiss man

love

not

there

at all

at all

at all

Pearls

Someone fingered my pearls.

Said they were crazy for pearls.


Pearls are for tears I did not say.

Tears and the moon.