Provocation: Cuts that bleed.

Edit (and be damned) It, sometimes, seems more muddle than it is worth. The act of creativity – the initial act of expressing what is in the mind, onto paper via pen or keyboard – is such a simple and sweet thing. Think it, consider it, write it. Done So good. But, no. That is … Continue reading Provocation: Cuts that bleed.

Revision at the end of a year

A task of revision - A Magpie Sings at Midnight What a bittersweet thing is revision. You might recall that a while back I allowed myself to get carried away by using lines and phrases taken from T. S Eliot's The Waste Land as the basis for my own writing purposes, acting as prompts for … Continue reading Revision at the end of a year

until the last (shanith)

Shantih shantih shantih ~ shanith there will betimefor joy a timewhen the worldis at peace and youand Itoo shanith to be bornis to learn all of lifewe are bornand we learn to the end born again shanith stay strong be trueto your heart endure and takea new step justone morenew step every day come willingly … Continue reading until the last (shanith)

the bear and the cockatoo (and things that remain)

These fragments I have shored against my ruins ~ what have I keptof myself . . . the plagueragesall aroundandI have not beentouched . . . no that is not true I toohave become more paranoid morbid depressed hopeless resigned resolved vaccinated everythingbut the lurgyitself the world –my world –has changedin these last yearsandI wonderwhatis … Continue reading the bear and the cockatoo (and things that remain)

untamed (the problem persists)

Quando fiam uti chelidon—O swallow swallow When shall I become like the swallow? ~ it isa temptation –always –to turn a problemintoa more palatableform to dress itin finer garb to admire it –at leastfrom a distance perhaps . . . in a cage gildedto be sure and –if it is a bird –admire the plumageif … Continue reading untamed (the problem persists)

unburned (the clowns of privilege)

Poi s’ascose nel foco che gli affina Then he hid in the fire that refines/improves him ~ what kindof firewill improve a person nonethat they willwillinglysubmit to shaping comesdespitea person’s wishes some peoplewill neverbe improved believing the fireis intended to burnsomeone else they do not recognizewhen their ownbootsare rising smoke when the momentfor meaningful changeis … Continue reading unburned (the clowns of privilege)

brother (the daisies are everlasting)

The sea was calm, your heart would have respondedGaily, when invited ~ news today the cicadashave startedtheir singing the forestis coming alive it is a dayafterunexpected rain gloryunder the sun la niñahas held backsummerfor awhile but they sayshe might beleaving sothe cicadassing ~ funeral homesare issuing warnings their staffare becoming ill taking timeawayto get better … Continue reading brother (the daisies are everlasting)

no doubt (on australia day)

The boat respondedGaily, to the hand expert with sail and oar ~ every countryhasits ownnational day what dayis that . . . a day to celebrateall the country now is what the founding fathershopedit might become . . . perhaps there are someherewho call itinvasion day commemoratingwhen the white coloniserscameto lay claim turningthe occasionaway from … Continue reading no doubt (on australia day)

play (in the garden)

DADamyata ~ thank heavenforthe sky thank goodnessfor the greenthat isthe garden give thanks –Igive thanks –for the happy buzzof fliesof bees the sticky websof spiderswho waitso quietlyin foliage waitingfor their time a white butterflyis visitingby flitsamong the vegetablesalready lefttoo long celery flowers carrotsgone to seed it isa little bitunruly there are alliumssprawlingeverywhere I keep meaningto … Continue reading play (in the garden)

you know what I mean (it won’t kill you)

each confirms a prisonOnly at nightfall ~ sorry sorry sorry I didn’t meanto say . . . I meanof coursepeopleare dying . . . andit’s terrible I’ve always saidthat every deathis a terrible thing what I meantwas . . . well our peopleare dyinglessthan in so manyothercountries . . . sothat must meanwe are doinga … Continue reading you know what I mean (it won’t kill you)