I saw the death

I read the obituaries in my Saturday paper saw to my dismay that poetry had died I ran to a contemporary anthology to try to see the truth for myself only words in some kind of funereal array there was no story it had died there was no connection it had died no communion no … Continue reading I saw the death

gentle art

oh there is passion in the writer passion in each word placed on a page in the spoken word rendition the exercise of craft passion in the gentle art of poetry venom there is venom in the swiftly flowing pen-stroke in execution like the lancing of a boil and surrounded are we not by boils … Continue reading gentle art

At the Armadillo

at the Armadillo guitars hang in colours on a wall shaded yellow and sunset ukuleles are a light relief of sky plus brown spaced to make a little silent symmetry in this homage to the desert corrugated rainbow-iron upholds a spotlight for the mirror-ball twirler of reflections to pout lipstick shapes that simmer around the … Continue reading At the Armadillo

thwocking turbulence

the thwock-ing of a copter blade luffed my ears and echoed right through the house I searched window to window trying to locate the source of the reverberation there high an afterburn image of blades spinning somehow pursuing themselves always half a thwok behind and a ripple through the air like petrol in a state … Continue reading thwocking turbulence

a-wooing for coffee

Yellow Bourbon E- special Ethiopia Yirgacheffe as well their green beans turn to brown in the oily smoke with a cra-cra- crackling sound coffee over the stove-top it's Espresso that gets me wired here’s a batch of beans green-to-brown them turn the heat much higher grind them start the day right percolate the bubbling growl … Continue reading a-wooing for coffee

above the alps

someday I will write these ranges I am flying above it is a day of sun the sharp-edged slopes are dirty green in its dying angular shapes lengthened in shadow the unrolling loneliness of ridge after covered ridge is broken by the anachronistic symmetry that is the straightness of roads carved through the forest wilderness … Continue reading above the alps

ambrosia named

praise the smell of peaches rising up from the bowl not quite ripe just yesterday today they fill the whole room have you smelt the peaches hold a moment inhale them right now let them fill your senses with the fragrance that’s all around you peaches nectar peaches ambrosia your name today they fill this … Continue reading ambrosia named