down

was it a slip into the water a push a dive a fall down here it doesn’t matter the why is up above the when is left behind the who he can’t recall this is here there is only down only a ray of sunlight slicing to forever through the sparkle of the water into …

Voices #36: where the (cinder) ell-a you

Perhaps, the wearer is here: From the News - High tea and manicures. once oh once upon a time! where the hell is Cinderella when you need her huh? stuck in the middle of nowhere in some pumpkin I bet you know I had a fella wear me once he was beautiful in a long …

Beechworth Streets #29: red (for you)

I colour beautifully I blush I grow my own colour I make my own shade of red red and red I rust for you only for you ~

bird of fire

phoenix am I somehow I stand before you you know I know this is an impossible truth I have died yet here I am alive reborn renewed or maybe maybe I am only resurrected who can tell? not I this air tastes of sweet things phoenix I am burned in my own fire flames of …

Voices #35: tub band with you

wash tub free wheelin’ bucket ‘n’ drum band that’s what we are we can play you a little country a little folk we can play with a big boom boom or we can just roll along with you we’ll roll along with you ~ Poem #35 from a series of poems heard while on a …

Beechworth Streets #53: this after that

I always know the way to go left or right one way or the other this road must finish up it can't go on forever and I know that in the end this way must surely follow on from that ~

mildly euphemistic

euphemistically speaking today is a day that couldn't be more and euphemistically thinking I don't think I've ever had one before this is a day when the lawn is growing and just such a day that I have to get mowing euphemistically being I'm like a guy who has been struck by the sun and …

indigo (a dyer’s hands)

my hand is blue my hand is green my nails shellac- harden my skin … leather I am so much leather all my creases marked in red every pore the rainbow every pore its own like the hand of the philosopher and his multi-colored fragment my hands hold the power of every colour they make …

Beechworth Streets #52: waits

the darkness waits to gather all who wander the streets at night if you stray don’t cry for home the darkness waits for those who wander it waits for all ~

Voices #34: the key please, sir

well sir do you have a key sir that’s good sir please insert and turn ahh thank you sir open the door now take what you require yes sir thank you sir goodbye sir ~ Poem #34 from a series of poems heard while on a visit to a second hand goods market and gathered …