dverse
All the men weeping
The Gift Horses
Instead of owning my good fortune — you’re such a lucky fuck, they said —
I started talking extinctions, the medicine someone was going thru
another’s turpitude, crocodile tears on primetime.
cumulonimbus to the max
sometime soon
the afternoon monsoon
massy clouds will let go
feathered vapour becomes stun-gun
pelts — school-kids, nuns on bicycles, ponies and peonies heavy heads down
all us plain-living things — with life (L…I…F…E…)
gouts and over-spouts
your embrace leaves me drenched
thunder down the hallway.
Image: Margaret Barr’s “Strange Children” [ballet], 1955 / photographer unknown c/- State Library of NSW
Margaret Barr (29 November 1904 – 29 May 1991) was a choreographer and teacher of dance-drama who worked in the United States, England, New Zealand and Australia. During a career of more than sixty years, she created over eighty works.
A quadrille for Dverse where De is hosting and asks us to use the word ‘go’ in our 44 word poem.
And for those of you thawing out from too much winter, here’s Monsoon feat. Sheila Chandra from 1982 with Ever So Lonely
Poem beginning with a line by Gail Newman
as if we could hear music inside the words
an ode we’ll hum while searching for a word
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 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
