Thursday, December 20, 2012

frangipanni blossoms float
on the pool
cloudless December

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Another Christmas list

inveigle shed
gale tent
abrade lawn
enlighten veranda
enrapture weeds
extinguish pool
charm chairs
relegate insects
corrugate cobwebs
abort birdbath
indulge sleeping bags
reinstate pavers
scarify fence
pixilate clothesline
vaccinate cupboards
hang palms
glorify BBQ
ratify gas bottle
halls the deck
and boughs the holly

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

another poem written from an aeroplane window

she loves the really fast
shudder on rilled air
before the weightless lift
she loves toytown
the scarified face
flicked metal carving the blue
and the secret side of clouds

Tuesday, September 11, 2012


‘wh’ of wings
against the density of atoms
lift and float of colour
warp and weft of backlit white
scent of morning warm
dissolved in nectar’s memory
a measurement of night,
torn shell birth
dizzy on the wheel

five months in
a butterfly farm

collaboration Amanda Joy, Coral Carter


clouds rumple
stormy season
- hangs

will break
china cup

light bounces
all angles


when mending
use water

medical conditions

join a flock
wear the uniform

pigeon becomes chicken

Tuesday, July 10, 2012


download drama
start the heart chronicles
some sleep  
like new borns
like logs
some sleep
some dress
like a goddess
or a ghost
a dark skinned
and her catch
gleams wet
love is a mixture of sentimentality and sex
tears are used to
tears are used
tears are
there is a graveyard
in the light
ceiling fans make poor compasses
the shaman breathed us to life
if you post the broken into darkness
has it gone?
the ordinariness of love
lightning on trees
inspired by nature
play space
sweetest honey is in the tree
a big screen performs
an untold story
with no end
a band of one played
a diary full of blank pages
engulfs my senses with a midnight kiss
speaks in tongues
maybe the sun will rise
with or without you
waves on a windless day
lichens bleach in the sun
hot forge of two
seasoned with chilli and salt
here is one thing
and another thing
what is this place we are in
on the table mandarin peel
thirty stories of glass
have pixilated the clouds
torn a hole in the sky
love is a violence which compels thinking
you can hear the hammer blows
in the marble slab
see the hand printed
on a wall
cave or brick
Simon Petrus’ feet
rubbed away
place your intercessions at the door
in the place
where they crucified Christ
smashed mirror
reflecting glass x5
chair on the lawn
waits for a sunny day
under a grey sky
I don’t know what love is
if I have stolen
I am sorry

Monday, July 9, 2012


My son walks                                            I walk
the streets of New York                        the streets of Kalgoorlie
in his red ugg boots                                in my red-dirt stained runners
made in Bindoon.                                   made in Taiwan.

He counts one hundred and forty seven American flags.
I count one New Zealand
           one Danish
           one Republic of Ireland.
I see an Australian flag
caught in a white cedar
being shredded in the wind.

Thursday, June 21, 2012


cemetery -
buck bushes blown
into a corner

Monday, June 11, 2012

crow flies - two flaps forward
one flap back, three flaps forward, one back
- head wind

Friday, June 8, 2012

fog filled front yard
galahs perform a flyby

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

The Kill

A small bird
imagine it young
panicked by a butcher
chased by a killer
crashes into a high wire
butcher bird hovers
then hawk falls-rises
feathered pom-pom in its beak
EPIRB bird  peeps grow weak
in the charnel house among leaves

Thursday, May 10, 2012


When I learned I was a poet
first I laughed
--then I cried.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012


Look through other eyes
to see
the blind ghost dance
with a young man
she hugs
his sheathed moist muscles
to her dry bones
but soft skin is served
only to those who salivate
deaf to laughter when she is the punch line
torn lace and broken cobwebs catch nothing
years have screwed her
burnt fingers grasp the dead red rose
—the plate of sweetmeats is empty

Friday, March 23, 2012


 Soon, she gave up the idea of the skeletal shadow in hot pursuit and poured herself a nice cup of tea.

behind the curtain
a stopped beetle
a still moth
beetle’s legs in the air
moth’s false eyes stared 

Thursday, March 22, 2012



Co-written by Janet Jackson and myself using a poetry magnet kit

Wednesday, March 21, 2012


a smoke ring circles the sun
beneath we burn

my loving friend
hands me ripe figs
torn open
flesh the colour of
my broken sex

crawled into bed
head cradled
in a lightless corner
of night

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

One for Di

After the goodbye
we all drank tea
together at your house.
Had nothing to say.
It seemed as if
we were no longer friends.

I went home
folded myself away
between the silk scarves
                 and the socks.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

16 February 2012

bees push through fringes of blossom
wings spanned bee eaters
balance on morning light
mudlarks march uniformed
on patrol
tails up heads down
galahs at work on the oval
plastic bags arrested against the fence
rolls of wire slubbed on the creek bank
night shift workers play tennis before bed

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

In the country

Before I went to the shop I found a book of dreams
curled in my letterbox.
When I read it the corners of my eyes prickled.
Tears rolled out and surprised me.
Walking to the shop I looked up and saw the clouds had written an L
— the first initial of the book’s author.

At Coles a customer
wrote down the name of a friend.
for the I AM IN TRAINING PLEASE BE PATIENT check out girl
to look up on Facebook.
No one minded.
I live in the country.

On my way out I saw two firemen going in
and an old man with his shoe laces undone.
He combed his hair and put the comb in his back pocket.

In the car park the fire truck took up at least four bays.
It advertised a $50,000 reward to dob in an arsonist.
Crows call out at any time of day.

Every afternoon
a trickle of discharged water runs through the car park into the drains.
I like to walk beside it.
Step over it.
Let my eye rest in its silver wet.
It’s dry-dry-dry in the country.

Thursday, January 19, 2012


January summer
holiday month
daylight dogs howl

Sunday, January 8, 2012

roadside communion

crows drink blood
take eat
in chorus sing
karked karked karked