22 September 2012

Spoken word: micropoem

I met a man
named after a star
and watched another
draw words from the moon.

I saw a box
spill jewelled poems
and knew the lost promise
of an American dream.

A micro-muse on an evening at The Blue Space spoken word event.

15 September 2012

Stones: micropoem

Each stone
a story
eroded to its bones

Each bone
a memory
dusting the unknown.

1 September 2012

A scattering of pebbles: small stones

Writing smallstones August & September 2012


24 September
The koel calls all night. The sun shakes me awake like it too has been up all night and can't wait for the day to begin again.

24 September
Waiting outside my gate
red cap and endless patience
my garbage bin.

13 September
The digger stands in weary pause
a burning battlefield beyond
but it's sunset on the ANZAC bridge
and the digger's made of iron.

9 September
Wisteria hangs wearily as if the cloying heat of Summer had already pressed its weight upon the vine.

4 September
There is less gravity. The soggy sky now drops blossom rain. I peel layers, my shy skin warming to the spotlight and the crowds.

31 August
Bush back-burning
we paint a strawberry and apricot
bushfire sunset
across the Winter sky.

29 August
The Southern Cross
sinks slowly from my sight
as the scent of jasmine
rises fragrant in the night.

27 August
The clear notes of a butcherbird slice the pre-dawn silence. In the ensuing emptiness, feathered shadows crouch and wait.

24 August
The rain leans into shadowed doorways, expelling a random scurrying of people with newspaper hats.

23 August
The moon is magnified by the curve of day, mimicked in the city's mirrored towers, multiplied in the laden lemon tree.

21 August
The moon's stalwart smile
yellows like old enamel
as it sinks to the earth
winking at the moment of demise.

20 August
A raven drawls lazily at the slow revving of engines and the clanging of tradies tools. Monday is as relentless as I am reticent.