into the water bubbles rise as a crowd forming into a bubble-balloon pop-pop-pop a kind of anguish released into the air the steam hiss-s-s an angry threat uttered into the midst of a forced taming close inspection in mid-air a to-and-fro of turning to better see assess then the forge again the anger grows the … Continue reading a futility of power
I believed that the sun rose up in the sky I believed that the hand was divine even now I don't want to know of the lie I believe that the sin must be mine and I pray on my knees my belief be restored I pray and I bow low my head before footsteps … Continue reading from the news: I believed (wrongly)
if I were to analyze the world I would begin with water running like laughter over stones at my feet I would begin with air filling me up with sky the taste of a cloud with every breath I take I would begin with the earth brown dirt I hold in my hands the smell … Continue reading analysis (in the end the flame)
my eyes are not what once they were oh that I could see you still oh that I could follow oh my dear the sky ~
I will read you all to sleep hush these words are heavy but if I sing a song in places that I do not know you can sing in a deep voice you can sing like a teddy we will sing where the hard words go where the hard words are too heavy and then we'll sleep … Continue reading sleeping with the hard words
mage I light the staff within my hand show me the way mage I call the bird of night come come carry me for the night is filled with woe the ice is biting come take me to home where the lights are aglow by my will the fire-pits are brimmed with logs the sport of … Continue reading mage: wish myself home
the hand toward the sun was over-large it was bigger than the arm that held it upright bigger than the torso folded in upon itself than the legs arranged in lotus the closer to the sun the more pronounced the disproportion if it would go on extending it could cup the golden orb as though … Continue reading the hand
look at my eye know I'm so sweet look into my eye no no so sweet trust my feathers you can trust my beak trust my colours because I'm so sweet it must be trust me believe your bones a flightless bird is going to shift some stones yes yes yes yes a flightless bird … Continue reading flightless (cheek bones)
Delighted to share this response poem by Chelsea Owens to my own speck on the blue.
Thank you Chelsea.
who was I in the millennium year two thousand zero zero who was I in seventy-two when politics changed and the lefties rose up who was I what was I doing when Apollo went to the moon who was I in nineteen fifty-six when the Olympics came to Melbourne who was I back then I … Continue reading finding myself backwards