as if we could hear music inside the words
an ode we’ll hum while searching for a word
Poem beginning with a line by Gail Newman
poetry
the empire of the cucumber vine
impasto morning
Tall Yellow Poem
(after Tall Yellow Man, 2003, Stephen Bird, Wollongong Art Gallery)
(Dear reader, the layout of this poem is important — I did my best with wordpress, but if words go a wandering on your screen, it’s available here as a pdf).
Continue readingZombie
A golden shovel for Margaret Atwood quoting Rilke.
Seems I’m not the only one interested in the poetry
of the dead. I know I should let lie – the past is the past.
The seductive loveliness of perspective
Saint Jerome in his Study, Antonella da Massina c. 1475
On any screen my attention drifts
whether it’s girls online or the official denials
a reporter hunched in a bunker
or reading the accounts—I’m looking
The Pomegranate Seller, Capo Markets, Palermo
Like a ruby held up to the sunrise. Is it still a stone, or a world made of redness? Rumi
take 3 fugitive seeds
between your teeth
and bite
abide
seduced
The cyclist
10 November 2020. Springhill Road, Port Kembla.
After
some stayed in their cars
some got out and stood and those closest
did for him.
Peter Frankis writes 