a poem (for my mother)

Both my parents passed away in the last year and a half or so. At the moment I'm doing some involving work to clear up parts of their estate, which is requiring me to be at the old house every day, and sell or shift bits and pieces of their lives. It gets very old, … Continue reading a poem (for my mother)

selling (one life) to move on

I am selling my father fishing rodsgoingfor a song still bendingin the breeze still luringto catch a troutor a codfish a fisherman’s song will you buy Iam sellingmy mother a hoya an orchid the plantsin the fernery a fewconcrete pots a fuchsiaand one moreconcrete pot take it awayleave a fewdollarsbehind . . . I am … Continue reading selling (one life) to move on

sound in the clockman’s workshop – vale George

A small collection of poems written about, or for my dad, George Prem over the years. George passed away today, March 30th 2020. the clock man the storm-water gutters on the house next door are ticking contractions like a timepiece with a stutter ........................................................tick      tick      tick tick ............tick      tick      tick      tick the early night is … Continue reading sound in the clockman’s workshop – vale George

of culture (happy birthday to my sister)

A redux, for the occasion. of culture when I was little more than childmy sister a teenagerwe owned a reel-to-reel recordera brown quarter inch of plasticfed from one reel through a channelof pressing heads and circling rollers to the other push both buttons down when you're ready to record my sister I believe has cultured … Continue reading of culture (happy birthday to my sister)

(PAD #023) flowers

she liesin the midstof flowers no signof clayor dirt no ash-to-ash she liesin tidiness the grass is greenaround if a spiritthena spiritof blueas the skies she liesin amongst in amongstthe flowers ______________________________________________________________________________ Would you like to be notified about changes and developments in my writing world, new poetry collections and giveaways? Subscribe to my monthly … Continue reading (PAD #023) flowers

(PAD #022) nothing suggested

look around Iturn around to empty spaces I look at themlook into themquite closely there is noshape at allno silhouette remaining emptinessis just a onethingit does not harbourmore holds no secrets beyond a kindof transparency that suggests . . . nothing ______________________________________________________________________________ Would you like to be notified about changes and developments in my writing … Continue reading (PAD #022) nothing suggested

(PAD #021) motes to guide (coloured rainbow)

(for magdalena) today has come as daysalways do there is sunagainafter the rain radianceright for a journeybegun step by step towards the unseen end but along the waydayslike today shiningto warm the path the sunbrightin my eyes I can almost seethe dancingof rainbow motesthat guide if I take the time a little bitof journey timeto … Continue reading (PAD #021) motes to guide (coloured rainbow)

(PAD #018) the movement (of a large white bird)

the movementthat caught my eyewas of a large white birdin the air recently aloft away and receding I could not tellwhat kind it was onlythat it was leaving I watched itall the wayto the horizon ______________________________________________________________________________ Would you like to be notified about changes and developments in my writing world, new poetry collections and giveaways? … Continue reading (PAD #018) the movement (of a large white bird)

(PAD #017) a message

the reminder comesin a messagefrom the roses the scentis a transportationto other times other places an olfactory shapethat is a ghostof the senses an absencein the mind ______________________________________________________________________________ Would you like to be notified about changes and developments in my writing world, new poetry collections and giveaways? Subscribe to my monthly Newsletter here.

(PAD #016) anymore

for someit is the whirlwind picking up a lifeto fling it roundand around a turbulence of knowingwhat has comecannot be turnedbackto the placewhere it began nothing to dobut ride belongingto the vortex for somethe time is pastfor pointingwith the weather the air is calmnow all storms have passed those stormshave passed now isthe serenityand even … Continue reading (PAD #016) anymore