p a

he is filling up breath by over-rapid breath squeezes into a space with no room left for air no room in a waving crop of terrors reared on a fertile mental acreage scarified then sown it seems odd the acute awareness he has of the weight of his chest the tightness he cannot think but …

a tree entrusts the wind

I will offer you my seed he has grown beneath my boughs as much as is reasonable and I have directed in my thoughts and in my dreams and through the sap that flows within the veins that rise rigid from the earth always seeking sky I have attempted to communicate the big ideas that …

Less Than Average Rain

walk along the back-roads of summer hot wind touching your face the shimmers prancing capers are silvery devils in the heat of the day there's no respite from the brown of a baking land hold out your arms for water no sign of rain no cloud long trails of white to Sydney fade to blue …

Born to Dance

Cheltenham is near winter the air deep-chilled on these still mornings when cold settles to make breath smoke and drift lazy in the early silence it is quiet here the street is sleeping and I am alone to see the broad-leaf dancer on the green carpet of nature strip beneath a lifeless tree across the …

the a-philosopher

he believed in anti-science de-volution ir-relativity uncommon sense outer ears un-numbered eyes and the unstoppable rise of a-gravity but most of all he believed in the universe un-expanding growing smaller all the time © Frank Prem, 2011

the public poet

he’s been assigned a billboard that stands as high as the price of fuel displayed at the petrol stop just down the road on a corner not far from the main drag at a place where the traffic has to slow he’s posting a new poem one letter at a time working above his head …

rhymer

the rhymer finds a corner spot - a seat under the window with the light coming in behind him casts an eye around the room a hotel where open mic readings are part of every Saturday for the committed the persistent and the lonely needs a line to get him going - perhaps a trick …

Just a Lifeline

This is just a lifeline. It's only saying words. A connection to the mainstream, written, but unheard. At least, the words are only spoken in the recess of a mind where the voice has lost the reason and the sanity unwinds. Just a lifeline. Some kind of shouting hush. A way of keeping company in …

lament for a lost _uzz (1) and (2)

(1) I have loved the smell of flowers the nectar taste of ripened fruit an apple a pear straw_erries with cream _uttery canola spread on pumpkin-_read toast then _reakfast yellow-_ox or Tasmanian leatherwood honey dripped slowly from my knife onto the _read the mead cakes my grandma _aked were to swoon for and vanilla was …

lub-dup (for the good of my heart)

1 when I was in nursing school they described the sound lub-dup really it meant more than sound it conjured an image of blood washing through valves and chambers pushed and pulsed on a bright red journey lub-dup lub-dup lub-dup and that's the heart-beat sound it's what I hear when I press my ear against …