Tag Archives: seasons

After Melbourne’s Coldest Weekend

This dark chill is theft—daylight robbery
The sun roped up in the back of the van
Our good humours gone with it

To a human we’re phlegmatic, melancholy
And no draft is too crafty
No teeth or bones too still

They say it’s a vortex that’ll last the week
And eBay is selling out of finger-less leather gloves
But we’ll get up anyway

And at night, well, we probably won’t think of those in bed alone
But we should
God knows it was me once

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On A Sunday, Hearing Hymns

Down the road and round the corner
Hymns break strong and bright
The father he looks down on them
The son casts yellowy light

A little girl, stood small near mum
Questions why, and how
And underneath the learned sun
Says she, “that’s how it is, for now”

Dying leaves fall from branches
As faith feathers their wings
But after omnipotent winter
They’ll live again with spring

Father, son, mother, daughter
Life will fill the nest
But it never hurts to say your thanks
Each weekly day of rest

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On a Friend Showing Me His First Scan

Another human floats in its mother’s waters
A hydronaut exploring the womb
Trailing a thin, curling cord, with arms held close

In the coming months change will come
The little one becoming less little
Its incubator too

Dad won’t stay the same either
Growing responsibility
And yet more love for them both

When the timer rings
The fertilised egg come to fruition
Another human floats into its mother’s world

They’re doing what comes naturally
Building x and y blocks
Mandrake fed

If we’re lucky, we’ll make children as well
Choosing names we’ve scribbled for ages
And living for ever

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10 Haikus For 10 Days In Japan

Tokyo August 28

The buildings close now
As the late summer pulls in
A strange soup this warmth

Tokyo August 29

The strings strum. Buzzing
Louder than the cicadas
In urban concert

Tokyo August 30

All the wide-leg pants
Billow in the wind of change
They’re not clothes for home

Kyoto August 31

A sake monsoon
And reversal of engines
More bullets than one

Kyoto September 1

War drums are drumming
The fierce tattoo of heaven
Tears rain like iron

Naoshima September 2

On the inland sea
Ships Japanese beef, top grade
Some rare works of art

Naoshima September 3

The three-shadowed rock
With a bronze lion inside
Keeps the summer heat

Tokyo September 4

Ten thousand black disks
Impenetrable rhythms
All the same language

Tokyo September 5

Six strings rent in two
Resurrection by dateline
Where summer sounds wait

Tokyo September 6

Season ending sleep
Night turning in the darkness
The sapling day grows

September 2014

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As I Lay Like a Leaf

If the leaves are turning then I’m going too
Featherlight we lay down
Carpeting the grass in the same roar and hue as flame
No headstones need planting because our bodies are all in bits
Spread thin and no longer ourselves but what has always been
The dust blown from a pin prick explosion
It’s easier than ever, returning
Gliding by gravity
You could do it by accident really
And people do just that – all the time

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A Year in Collingwood – Haiku

The public toilet
With piss dirtying the seat
Washed in autumn rain

In winter’s gutter
Lie needles, bottles and feet
A man unconscious

Koorie plays guitar
Laughter and a barking dog
Coins, a hat, now spring

Alone on the bench
A weathered hand plays poker
It folds with summer

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The Scarecrow

Golgotha’s watchman lives on an earth-driven pole
Singing a frightful song of spilling straw

No nuisance do beaks make on his crop while he stares
Tinder-dry under his wide-brimmed hat
Wrapped in Winter’s hand-me-downs

In time, like the fields surrounding, he’ll bow to Autumn’s hand, humbled
Folding when the blue-black cornrows have been plucked
When the land lies fallow and the tools are taken for oiling

Uprooted and untied from his cross, he rests emptily on the bales that bore him
Waiting for fresh seedlings to reach up to the heavens, catching the crow eyes
Waiting to be made whole again
Waiting for the resurrection

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