Coral Carter

untitled

2012-01-19T09:35:00.005+08:00

January summer
holiday month
daylight dogs howl

roadside communion

2012-01-08T18:24:00.000+08:00

crows drink blood
take eat
in chorus sing
karked karked karked

a sea named after you

2011-12-09T07:23:00.001+08:00

Are all mornings mother of pearl beside the Coral Sea?
All mornings are mother of pearl beside the Coral Sea.
Mother of pearl morning beside the Coral Sea.

on a salted breeze

smell of toast about to burn
sunrise remains
a thin line of silver
wet horizon
sealed shut with cloud
expectant surfers look out
for a barrel in the break

"You are beside a sea named after you."
texts my Mother.

untitled

2011-11-23T16:02:00.001+08:00

grass traces circles
dune crests flick quiffs
desert wind

in morning cold air
long shadows blur
the butcher bird hunts

young crows tend graves
pluck red silk petals
drop them into the breeze

under the jam wattle
a puff of lavender butterflies
flit over iron stone

scent

2011-11-04T14:36:00.001+08:00

threat bursts becomes action
wet fists pound iron roofs
sun scorched dust
and cloud cold rain
mash in a splash

when elements collide
I wait for the scent to rise

spring day

2011-11-01T13:56:00.001+08:00

spring day buds popped
blossom swung under blue sky
compliments of the sun

untitled

2011-10-04T12:37:00.003+08:00

beneath the flowering gum
rain is sweet

nine twenty

2011-09-20T11:22:00.001+08:00

by the ticking clock
which is either
too slow
or
too fast
never tocks the
middle path

Grey Nomads

2011-08-06T08:55:00.000+08:00

He navigates
a fast escape
from aged homes
open mouthed drool

Slumped asleep
front seat
glasshoused heat
she dreams of everlastings

tweetku too

2011-07-29T06:33:00.000+08:00

hung clouds

dead washing

silent phone

vacant letter box

inbox spam

nowhere stare

room echo

drawn blind

no calls

no answers

voice laid off

tweetku

2011-07-26T19:32:00.001+08:00

in the night garden

solar lights glow blue

spots of moonlight

courtesy of the sun

untitled

2011-07-21T14:46:00.001+08:00

as rain clouds roll in
dry washing struggles
against the pegs

untitled

2011-07-19T08:45:00.003+08:00

after rain

overhanging trees drip circles

into pooled water

cloak loops

2011-07-14T13:06:00.002+08:00

First light

2011-07-14T09:48:00.001+08:00

The cemetery gatekeeper unlocks,
AC/DC blares from his car stereo -
waking the dead.

it seems as if i

2011-07-11T13:54:00.000+08:00

txt

2011-07-10T11:40:00.002+08:00

she has ppl :)
cannot talk
i have lnlnss :(
and need to

heard

2011-07-10T10:41:00.000+08:00

drone

as desert course is mown

startle

in pigeons wing

babblers

on lower branches

silence

crouched with the cat

untitled

2011-07-09T15:16:00.000+08:00

mid afternoon
ants shadows stretch

for di

2011-07-07T10:24:00.001+08:00

now

all

can

write

haiku

for

you

trees catch clouds

in high branches - make their own rainstorms

morning fog

late afternoon

2011-07-05T14:29:00.002+08:00

sun behind a broken cloud

shadow creep stops

page turns blue

dog barks

a bin is wheeled in

neighbors

car door slams

mother goes to school

birds sing the dimensions of triangles

2011-07-04T12:35:00.002+08:00

plated and served
my forked heart
a four pronged attack

again maybe

2011-07-03T12:31:00.001+08:00

it seems as if i

then again maybe

because when why

too big the open

marshland or drained

pinch quickly soured

senses a soupcon

whoever ghost clothed

latch bolt and key

no gel in infirmary

rabid the wild fire

unopened cucoons lie

love chest liability

insanity keepsake

transitions and labels

whatever first came

when then and why fore

it seems as if i

then again maybe

untitled

2011-07-02T10:58:00.000+08:00

woman's voice
strung tensile
a child's wail
conduit
mudlark's wings
two kinds of beatings

linen and lace

2011-06-28T16:23:00.000+08:00

bobbin pricked blood
threads through bunched lace
filigrees the naked throat
weavers sweat
damps the weft and warp
covers memory of shame

FIFO

2011-06-20T10:01:00.000+08:00

Again

I see , unmoved

your boots.

Each one filled with

wind and nests of leaves.

Captured in webs

anchored to the step

empty days frayed stitches.

Death by loneliness

a slow process

kiss me out of my misery soon.

*GREEN

2011-06-17T16:13:00.000+08:00

*GREEN

almost * arrogant * ascending to heaven * attack of * bamboo * big * blow fly * blue * bold * bright * bud * bunch of * cabbage * carnivorous * challenging * dead * deep * dinosaur * dove neck * eye * extravagant * faintly * fatal * alive * fig tree * fingernail polish * flamboyant * flat * garden * glossy * goddess * grape * grape vine tip * grass * greedy * green green green * green bellied parrot * grows the lilac * greenie * green stone * grow * growth * hammock * happy * hardly * hippy * honest * hospital * hydrangea * jealous * jubilant * jungle * knockabout * lawn * leaf * lemon * lime * living * lizard * lots of * love * love you * magic * mango * mint * mossy * mysterious * native * oak leaf * olive * over run * overpowering * passionate * pea * perverse * phlegm * pond * pool * prison * quick growing * ravishing * really * savage * shallow * shit * shocking * sickly * summer sky * smothering * snot * so * soft * stag horn * spinach * spring * sprout * stinky * envious * sulky * summer * super * superfluous * surly * surprise * swamp reed * the greens * thin * thistle * thyme * tomato * too much * tooth * traffic light * true * undergrowth * unlucky * USD * valiant * valley * victorious * vigorous * vital * wanton * weed * weed free * wisteria * wistful * yellow *zany* zealous*

eclipsed

2011-06-16T14:35:00.001+08:00

three or thereabouts
dreams cast to jetsam
the night a blood tide
seeped over the moon's face
heart stopped
like that
sudden
rain clouds washed all away
left nothing between my ribs

untitled

2011-06-08T16:39:00.000+08:00

june rain
plink plonks in the drain pipe
honkey tonk

haruspex

2011-06-07T11:50:00.000+08:00

two crows
divine
intestines
roadside

untitled

2011-06-06T14:49:00.001+08:00

june - days of rain
when the sun cracks clouds
a bird tumble bathes in gum tips

untitled

2011-06-03T14:41:00.000+08:00

seven empty chairs companions
wind turns my page
inside the radio
talks to itself

in the garden

2011-06-02T15:04:00.000+08:00

black shapes
swoop
the fence line
blood
feathers
torn skull -
baby eating season

a culinary affaire

2011-05-30T07:42:00.001+08:00

be still my toasted roasted
milled grilled
sliced spiced
boiled roiled
poached broached
be still my beaten eaten heart

untitled

2011-05-19T15:38:00.000+08:00

late afternoon light
shadow of a dove crosses
the closed venetians

child scream time

2011-05-06T14:57:00.003+08:00

crow in the north

palm holds

a busy bee

love in

honey fest

wild bees

2011-05-04T10:37:00.000+08:00

tree bark trunk

split

honey cave hum

the sudden flock

2011-05-03T15:02:00.000+08:00

the sudden flock rose

spanned wings

a Japanese print

flung across

straight stretched road

one missed the updraft

became a bloodless thud

washed away in the wake

looked back saw

splayed wings

at never fly again angles

feathered body on a roll

down the highway

glued to glass

one grey feather

and a smudge

came home with me

after ph

2011-05-02T12:33:00.000+08:00

rothko

painted

desert

stones

heard early

2011-04-26T13:42:00.001+08:00

a butcher birds praise
of unfledged flesh
slits open the day

in the place where i am

2011-04-21T08:29:00.001+08:00

horizons coil into my blood

creek beds hide water

black stones hold

memories of fire
dust records

out here

in the place where i am

bones fray

bronze wing

2011-04-20T12:19:00.001+08:00

She is finished she said

her luck over and out

wrap me up in my blanket

bury me deep down
where the dingoes and crows wont
where the dingoes and crows wont
where the dingoes and crows wont

if only I was

if only I could

if only
I had the flight of a bronze wing

I put down the phone

find the instruction book
blank

travelling east

2011-04-19T16:52:00.002+08:00

before us
the stars climb
behind
the moon falls

untitled

2011-04-18T12:58:00.000+08:00

in my socks
i clicked the sunrise
and
squeezed it in a box

Letter to Di

2011-04-17T15:55:00.000+08:00

Birds sing.

Dog barks.

Flies

arrive

depart.

Bottle brush red

splashes

in the pool.

Sun love bites

my neck -

tea bags sink

wrecked

in a milky sea.

I lie

naked

sun soaked.

Dog sings the blues.

Invisible neighbour

whistles

creaks his shed

rust roof

green door.

Plays Triple J.

cabbage moths cross flight paths

an ant spell checks my page

the washing machine insists

no time to play

Sky colour -

Uplift Me Blue.

Outside.

Today.

untitled

2011-04-09T08:57:00.000+08:00

first light
honey eaters chorale
nectar sweet

untitled

2011-04-07T09:35:00.001+08:00

babblers in lower branches
silence of the cat

grin and bear it?

2011-04-05T10:57:00.000+08:00

Is 3.30pm a time to give your self a treat?

Make peace not war?

Check the water level in the bird bath?

Begin to anticipate the clock strike four?

Crack a nut?

Eat a kernel?

Try not to cry?

Remember to be grateful, mindful, full, full, full?

Put the hammer away and fill the kettle?

Watch shadows slip?

Be the stillness of the watering can

plastic green bin

discarded shoes

and a sock?

Is it time to put your head in your hand,

four fingers curved

into your bottom lip?

Let extremities fold inwards?

Origami?

To concentrate on the hand that writes not types?

Link with ink?

Not pick at scabs or lick the wound?

Is 3.55

the time to listen to roof heat tick,

watch the frangipanni fall -

grin and bear it?

Here Again

2011-04-04T10:23:00.002+08:00

I am here again

at the back table

the back table

I built and oiled

on early mornings

to avoid

the eye sizzling heat of noon.

Here again.

Bemoaning.

Being and moaning -

to myself

to the page

to the world

that my handwriting

like me

deteriorates

before my eyes,

my eyes

deteriorate

before my brain

my brain

deteriorates

within my body

which deteriorates

and on

when a mudlark/ piping shrike/peewee

unaware of deterioration /decay/time

oblivious of my thoughts/ feelings/self pity

careless of the cold east wind setting the scene for autumn

took a bird bath

spun globes of water like planets and suns into the air

made rainbows with the morning

and ruffled feathers blurred the black and white.

disqualified!

2011-04-02T13:50:00.001+08:00

Vermin

2011-04-01T18:58:00.000+08:00

untitled

2011-03-31T14:32:00.000+08:00

beneath the night roost
a Jackson Pollock

number one

2011-03-30T11:20:00.000+08:00

wings fall off
when you are number one hit
on the reject list
fruit rots
leaves burn
thumbs down
face lost
hearts fold
song jams
last notes
eaten by ants
tiny bit
by
tiny bit
by
tiny bit

no miracle

2011-03-28T18:41:00.000+08:00

although
he kissed
both eyes
the blight
remains

after

2011-03-25T13:54:00.000+08:00

years of nights
his skin
has grown
as familiar as my own

years of sleep
i inhabit his dreams
but I dream
alone

no title

2011-03-23T16:49:00.000+08:00

i cant squeeze
out another word
the tube is empty

what have you done?

2011-03-22T09:41:00.000+08:00

each word
sealed
boxed
hard cornered
thrust
into the softness of doing

Poetry with...

2011-03-17T14:52:00.002+08:00

Poetry with nice cups of tea,

poetry with spring daffodills,

poetry with lace,

poetry with infidelity,

poetry with attitude,

poetry with street cred,

poetry with companion planting,

poetry with meat and three vege,

poetry with porcelain collections,

poetry with buckets of shit,

poetry with amore,

poetry with dread,

poetry with gravel,

poetry with cyanide,

poetry with big stabbing knives behind my back,

poetry with epiphany,

poetry with dead dogs,

poetry with explosions,

poetry with sin,

poetry with societal ills,

poetry with cunts

(now there’s a thought)

and of course

poetry in the name of the father,

the holy trinity,

poetry with beer, drugs and pills.

fly

2011-03-16T11:31:00.000+08:00

fly

on my leg

iron oxide eyes

ringed gold

legs sharp pencil lines

wings see thru clean thru

veined grey

thorax suit striped

i sigh

it flies

that’s what flies do

fly

harbour wave

2011-03-15T08:40:00.003+08:00

among the dead

the newborn squall

how did

2011-03-14T14:19:00.000+08:00

how did
the game
of get the guest
conclude?
whose heart was eaten?
whose heart was bruised?

longiflora

2011-03-11T15:25:00.000+08:00

my mouth
covers you
i suck
nectar and ants

the only thing

2011-03-10T03:01:00.000+08:00

the only thing
we do together
is read
i take
the book
and crack
the spine

read all about it

2011-03-09T13:55:00.000+08:00

the fan cools
tears slide
warm
to ice
the tongue cut
serrated blade
against flesh
torn more
than sliced
the daily news
for your consideration

Five Hundred Words: All of Them Shit

2011-03-08T02:43:00.004+08:00

shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit
shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit

shit shit shit shit pooh shit shit shit shit shit
shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit

shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit
shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit

kiss

2011-03-05T10:47:00.000+08:00

receive the kiss
kiss which heals
kiss which blinds

one for the heart

2011-02-20T15:02:00.001+08:00

surgery for the untrained
chapter one
open heart
pass the healing hands
kneeling pad
crucifix
remove the barb
kiss the blood
expose the wound
soothe the burn
warm the cockles
melt the ice
seal the break
fill the cracks
strike a match
set the fire
light the light
in the name
pass the flame
pass the flame
pass the holy flame

blood glues the broken

2010-12-27T15:59:00.001+08:00

blood glues the broken
to the road
one wing
rises
rises
falls

born into country

2010-12-01T09:35:00.003+08:00

those delivered on sand are born into country

red dunes drift under the high sun

rust is a slow burn in desert dry air

night calls of mopokes in praise of dead wood

red dunes drift under the high sun

all of the stories are written in starlight

night calls of mopokes in praise of dead wood

lizards soak long in midday sunbaths

all of the stories are written in starlight

skin and bones worn by bare earth

lizards soak long in midday sunbaths

my blood tie dissolved in deep sea water

skin and bones worn by bare earth

a hoof cracked the crust of old land

my blood tie dissolved in deep sea water

rock pools hold dark water still

a hoof cracked the crust of an old land

pink sky unfolds blue into morning

rock pools hold dark water still

wind torments tree tops new growth

pink sky unfolds blue into morning

lashed with hemp knots I bled into white sand

wind torments tree tops new growth

clawed paws of malu imprinted on claypans

lashed with hemp knots I bled into white sand

rust is a slow burn in desert dry air

clawed paws of malu imprinted on claypans

those delivered on sand are born into country

karl kurla

2010-11-29T09:14:00.000+08:00

if
i was born black
i could call this
my country
but
i wasn't
i can't
it isn't

take a voyage

2010-11-22T10:46:00.000+08:00

take a voyage

on the rolly polly

honkey nut sea

bougainvillea fills gutters

replaces rain

- a crimson fall

i want to hear if it can be done alone

sit

don’t stand

be aware of emergency exits

things someone said

i can’t

i am sorry

i can’t

things someone else said

you don’t think

i can do this

i don’t think

i can do this

you don’t think

so much empty

so much no meaning

so much not here

it’s about more into less

it’s about nothing i know

it’s about being here before

when clouds part

stars become visible

outside

i am fallen

stones grind my bones

twigs spear my side flesh

blood is silver in the wound

my open mouth fills with moonlight

i swallow

rain begins

tell it right

2010-11-15T17:06:00.000+08:00

when i look up
its only the ginger plant
scratching at the window
but here alone
deep in afternoon
reading your lifes reason
it could be demons
sent to make sure
i tell it right
sent to make sure
i dont forget
the pain the love the pain

dark n'stormy

2010-11-12T11:42:00.000+08:00

he drank Dark n’Stormy.

not very subtle

i said

dark and stormy

untitled

2010-11-10T02:41:00.000+08:00

crucified himself in secret

seeker with a hypodermic

hammered dead to the bed

ran to paradise

separated body and soul

as promised by seventies rock sages

the golden years

bop! bop! bop!

not living to sing the tale.

Really, the urge to write has gone...

2010-10-22T10:33:00.000+08:00

if it is to be

2010-10-21T17:31:00.000+08:00

18 September 2010

2010-10-19T15:24:00.001+08:00

Really, the urge to write has gone....

man in the menzies pub

2010-10-18T18:26:00.000+08:00

man in the menzies pub

wears minimum dress requirements

orders his drink

then sips

stares at the pressed tin walls

built by someone forgotten

painted too many times to be counted

looks into the bubble patterns in his beer

his fingertips imprint the frost

his dog waits outside

but his woman was long gone

counts the hours by the glass

Saint Mary MacKillop Muffins

2010-10-17T09:49:00.004+08:00

The Miracle of the St Mary MacKillop Muffins:

While talking on the phone to my daughter on her birthday, 13 October 2010, I had a muffin epiphany. A recipe appeared in my mind and I knew I had to bake the muffins on 17 October 2010 to celebrate the canonisation of Sister Mary MacKillop. The dark bitter chocolate symbolises her difficulties with the hierarchy of the church in

Australia

and the sweet white chocolate the purity and love of God. Brown and white were also the colours of her habit.

Wet Mix

1/4 cup butter

1/2 cup sugar

2 eggs

1 cup milk

Dry Mix

2 1/2 cups self raising flour

100 grams white chocolate

100 grams dark chocolate

Method:

Preheat the oven.

Prepare the muffin pans by greasing them well.

Blend thoroughly the butter and the sugar.

Beat in eggs and then milk.

Carefully mix in the flour taking care not to over mix.

Stir in the white and dark chocolate.

Place the mixture in the prepared tins and bake.

Bake 200 degrees for 20 to 25 minutes.

one dollar doesn't buy much heroin

2010-10-16T09:40:00.000+08:00

one dollar doesn't buy much heroin
one dollar doesn't buy much
one dollar doesn't buy
one dollar doesn't
one dollar
one

at the menzies hotel

2010-10-11T12:13:00.000+08:00

at the menzies hotel
bikies on the stoop
their black leathers sheen
dulled with road dust
hold empty jerry cans
wait for the bloke
in a strained stained
t shirt
to bring keys
for the pump

inside wearing
minimum dress requirements
the local
moans
into his beer
his luck is out
no gold today
only snakes

untitled

2010-10-03T07:23:00.002+08:00

fast food
takeaway
roadside customers
crows

i wished for this

2010-10-01T15:17:00.000+08:00

i wished for this
empty house
empty days
my mouth opens
says nothing
the blank grey
sky presses
on me

i saw him leave
coat drawn
holding scraps
in
coat drawn
hiding shattered
splintered
coat drawn
against cold
against dark
against night

karlkurla

2010-09-30T11:36:00.000+08:00

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

outside today

2010-09-29T10:03:00.002+08:00

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

2010-09-28T12:12:00.004+08:00

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

2010-09-27T11:13:00.000+08:00

today

i had

the urge

to draw squares
and colour them
green
yellow
and black

The Angel Card

2010-09-24T15:18:00.000+08:00

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

2010-09-23T17:25:00.000+08:00

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

Country Viewpoint ABC 2007

2010-09-22T09:45:00.000+08:00

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

2010-09-21T10:05:00.001+08:00

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

2010-09-20T17:02:00.002+08:00

late afternoon
long shadows
bar code the road

less than five seconds ago

2010-09-17T11:05:00.002+08:00

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

2010-09-16T13:59:00.001+08:00

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

2010-09-15T09:00:00.000+08:00

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

2010-09-14T12:06:00.003+08:00

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 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

Pearls

2010-09-01T17:03:00.001+08:00

Someone fingered my pearls.

Said they were crazy for pearls.

Pearls are for tears I did not say.

Tears and the moon.

The Woodwoman

2010-08-17T09:01:00.002+08:00

The woodwoman and her helpers stack sawn jarrah sleepers against the back fence. One hundred and twenty dollars for a six by four. They had no change. Our first transaction and I wasn’t feeling generous about a thirty dollar tip. So Macca and Animal sped up the lane, with malice I thought, as the trailer swayed in a spray of stones and dust. Hannah, the woodwoman, stayed and talked about the ugliness of palms. Stupid trees long and naked with no shade potential. The people who planted them didn’t realise what mess makers they were. A hangover from the eighties when everyone was mad for them, but this desert town is no place for a tropical palm. She hoped it didn’t rain as the red mud was ferocious. Glued itself to boots and shoes and didn’t budge except onto any indoor surface. She reckoned her kids believed she was created to clean mud off stuff. She was in a hurry and had to go to work making pizzas for hungry bastards. The men came back from getting the change. Tried to break the land speed record down the back lane.

3.23pm.

Someone is drilling.

A kid is in trouble “Morgan!”

My shadow chases my pen.

Cabbage moths love dance across the sky.

Crouching clouds begin to creep.

A leaf hobbles across the pavers.

I prop the gate open.

Look at the new neat woodpile.

The sawn red ends of wood.

I photograph the wood and the stupid palms.

My cup is empty.

Incense burns low.

As I preview the photographs,

I see my reflection in the camera screen.

Wrinkled and white.

That’s me now.

I say to myself.

Get used to it.

I see an older woman

2010-08-13T11:23:00.002+08:00

I see an older woman
on the other side
of Graeme Street
older like me
but
hobbles
hold me
stop me running
stop me grasping her
stop me hugging her
stop me inviting her
home for a cup of tea
a chat where
steam rises
spoons tink
sugar glints
instead
I tell the dog at number 27
don’t bark
just don’t bark

i poke it

2010-08-04T14:57:00.002+08:00

something crouches inside
curled
furled
i poke it
unready
asleep
something crouches inside
unborn
unmade
i poke it
rolls
to the corner
of my brain
half baked
soft in the centre
not risen yet