to measure the sweet spot

Poem #300 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction he desired a theodolite a tacheometer to measure and keep up with shifting ground surveyor of the heart estimate the distance from here to happiness is it near is it far is …

curiosity

Poem #299 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction to see beyond the skin he sliced the flesh with his sharpened knife the welling red that slowly turned to brown he washed aside noting the dispersal through the water to see …

rtl walk #63: blister

a blister or a boil I know there you are a pustulation or a diamond on my skin I know there you are ~

circle the sun

I will draw a ring around the sun I will encompass it in cold halo circlet band of light bright and bright I’ll shine it bright and bright I will shine a halo around the sun ~

one moment : an intuition (of autumn)

Poem #298 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction my heart knew the summer flowed an ebb away but in my mind when I looked back each day stood as one alone the day that it shone the day it rained …

rtl walk #62: on my skin

I would a diamond you golden diamond to wear upon my skin ~

the one use

Poem #297 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction there is only one good use for a fire … he said as he turned to face away from the heat warming his behind against the chilly night … only the one …

rtl walk #61: waiting

I see your heart I see you exposed to me show all of your self I am I am waiting ~

bullets (across the sky)

bullets across the sky first pursuing clouds then they chase each other ~ they seek Sydney or they seek Canberra it is North their future lies ~ I look up at the sky to watch white bullets as they part the heavens ~

the public becomes private

Poem #296 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction he saw it once the painting hung in a gallery for the public to admire he saw it just the once but in a moment in that moment it was no longer …