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poem
Sum(mer) sonnet
If I were to engineer a blind here
obscuring all of this bright summer’s day,
and thru the tiniest chink, like Vermeer
or Newton, a memory-spectrum display. Continue reading
that ending (2)
Now our first/final embrace.
Flung through fantastic retinue
for years, felt frequencies,
flew thru flowing waters (what a rush) –
finding precursors. Continue reading
that ending (1)
…I saw a forest
where loneliness permeates
every sod. Continue reading
The river
[this looks much better on my site]
…on the desk the hands are lit.
Men are shuffling their feet,
tidy nails, a ring, a scar across the pinky —
watch hands & listen to the men… Continue reading
Sonnet (EM spectrum)
Given there have only ever been a handful of emotions —
tho, as our eyes evolved to particular lines in the spectrum,
so our sensible hearts may be dumb to all the high-energy
bursts & low-frequency murmurings which rain on us daily —
Continue reading
Bucolic (MM beach 34.48°S, 150.91°E)
You know how
when the drug (poetry) kicks
everything – cars, lawns,
a v-energy-boost can on the sand
– is glazed
with potential. Continue reading
A reply to sonnet 17
Our love’s not horticultural. It’s not about
flora – roses, carnations – or geology.
There’s no mystery to our love other than why
we persist with something as unhealthy as this. Continue reading
Samsara on a windy day (Lake Illawarra 34.54°S, 150.85°E)
Wind blasted sedges won’t lie down –
dried out reeds still have a trick or two.
Casuarinas in a thousand scaly fingered lines
voice the roaring all around. Continue reading
Cry woman workshop
Here’s where you’ll stand,
at the head and the feet. Continue reading
Peter Frankis writes 