Saturday, May 26, 2018

Rob Schackne #662 - "There I was, ticket in hand"

      "There I was, ticket in hand"

                                      for J.B.

         There I was, ticket in hand
         when my hat blew away
         or was it a sugar packet I held
         a day unfolding in the sun
         an orange peel in the bushes
         a snake wrapped around a stick
         or did I just blow it away
         where was my ticket going
         the years of the shopping carts
         down the creek in the water 
         in the grass the wire snares
         with the rocks and twigs
         till their fortunes changed
         there was I, there I was
         where does autumn go
         direction so difficult

Kerri Shying R #461 - fucking lucky for J Garrido Salgado

fucking lucky

I haven’t done
the facebook tarot
in an age    too busy
listening to the cat  lap
the water from my drinking glass
on the windowsill   too
torn  by photo   all the upraised hands locked
impassive  on the island
where we put them    left
everyone to die    waiting  for the
next bill in the post
 thinking how to best
 satisfy the expectations
of everything
I forgot to
press the

Kit Kelen #876 - rock


I had a job as a rock
you wouldn't know me now and then
but often threw a rope around

rock's a kind of anchor

you'll say pebble if you're smooth
I couldn't line up to point by myself
I was just the one rock

how rare to me
the ear was
though often
given up

often mosses, sun shone, rain washed

some said build your house
on him
or could be her
who knows?

seed rolled until some spare bird bore
the speck

then I grew steadier unwatched
all sturdy
some would say a clod

far as the light of stars I settled
long way to measure back

you could say that I held time
another one determined pitch

you've never thought of me at rest
but what's a rock to do?
we go unsighted mostly

will that be yours inscrutable?
I watched the others dizzy, fall

lay low for the longest time
where no one knocked

then I was stage marked on the way
think of a regular interval

I could have been currency once
sort of a circle I made

spoilt for rhymes
I'd sometimes thought myself a clock

then I get on a roll
cliché! it's a way of life
I think you must know

I was heaved aloft and tossed
and young again
by mountain flung

primordial for dice fling

so soon cooled!

spun like a world I was

how I yearned for soft!
my struggle being being itself
and grain against
I had the whole creek run for it

suspend the disbelief
otherwise how here?

I wasn't another one the same
though lined up with tautology
and taken for a nag

I was a rock and gathered to dust
I was leant on

someone once would knock to chime
or set a solstice by

it was I met the pumpkins
still shining

meant to be the last stone stood
but I was a rock after all

Friday, May 25, 2018

Kit Kelen #875 - for fallow

for fallow

and makes itself away
as if waited on
in mulch
and all ferment

like winter in pyjamas
like summer on too strong

so turn
so tumble with the year
to leaf
to yellow

and then some sun
looked in in socks
and then the bucket fell

all sky supposed
from which yet green
a single tendril's rise

Kerri Shying R #460 - Petting Zoo

Petting Zoo

between   standing on me    to
make me fart     eating
my pens and pencils    this cat
is gunna get it up the bracket

and   soon

there is no tie like
the tie you have with pets
it doesn’t make them hate proof

I laughed when he ate
the lipstick     smiled at me
Dame Edna    with a slow beard

tooth marks
in the vibrator   not
so much

James Walton #99 Poor Man's Chicken

Of a mountain
you are a foot fall echo
the goat’s enquiry

for the definition of ice

loose change spent
there is no news of Spring
in this we are assuaged

no reconnaissance wings by

taste the butter and pepper
now here is a final crust
fresher than birth

splinters in toes

from a porch of strangers
a circle of amanuenses
to record the shorter straw.

Thursday, May 24, 2018

Kerri Shying R # 459 - the steroid drops

the steroid drops

slopping weak tea 
each morning on winter grass

my salute to the sun
more the crazy wave

of the car yard sales 
balloon  powered by a blower

watching YouTubes  on crimes
where I know the killer

long before the re-enactment starts 
  my hobby horse

wrapped in the tight-taped bundle
of  bubble wrap  and fear

watch     a ticking clock
 so much alarm

Juan Garrido Salgado # 5 - How do you spell death in this place called Manus Island?

A fragment of a poem
How do you spell death in this place called Manus Island?

for Salim Kyawning, killed by Australia's cruel offshore detention policies:


If I die today at this moment

Who will bring a poem lit like a candle?

Who will bring a red carnation like my heart was?...

¿Cómo se deletrea la muerte en este lugar llamado Manus Island?

for Salim Kyawning, killed by Australia's cruel offshore detention policies:


Si muero hoy en este momento

¿Quién traerá un poema encendido como una vela?

¿Quién traerá un clavel rojo como fue mi corazón?

Y los podrá en la ventana de tus ojos sin lágrimas....

Kit Kelen #874 - in almost June

in almost June

cosy tucked
reluctant up

under a mountain near you
branches late to light

in a mistwalk morning
roses still come

more pumpkins to ripe
lemon makes yellow - a win

wash clothes first thing to catch all rays
fight the lyre for song

run other machines with the sun
be breakfasted with mandarin

then lemonade
give valencia a squeeze

take the pills
or else you're one

that same wren's at the window again
... and someday maybe in

there's more to the blue today
there's more up

mulberry can't know
does it come or go (?)

summer's in dust and done
yellow treasure now to be so shone

stretch to warm the limbs
keep some layers on

sneeze first
and blow horn later

crackle of music through
shows ways may be known

Wednesday, May 23, 2018

Rob Schackne #661 - "Railway sleepers"

Railway sleepers
it's sunny side up
that is the curved side
else the rain will rot them

you fill in the gaps
gravel contractors
political connections

the tracks of our tears
I can't share that with you
budget is a diminished crew

5mm there is 50mm here
up by the bridge near town
we remove some foliage

a horse is down at Kilmore
the track needs clearing
Lord help us all
that would be the train

Kristen de Kline #205 It makes no sense (2) - thanks Rob. S

1. It makes no sense

2. Lights swinging at the Old Duck

3. The rain trespassing across the highway

4. She said she was writing a thesis about longing

5. I watched the tower collapse

6. You wiped blood off a meat cleaver

7. And a second jet-plane fall out of the sky

8. The skies had been blue     then

9. Somebody destroyed the evidence

10. Then     you said we had been in love

11. 12. 13.
I don't know where they went

Can you feel my heart running away

Kit Kelen #873 - last drinks

last drinks

for Rob Schackne

we have to sue for a treaty with time
have to live with the thing

day in day out

we know this in our bones
know bones can travel on without

we have to be with the heavenly bodies
keep naming them at least

once money worried
death took a turn

now we have to end the war with time
promise a land of let live

it's like throwing stones at a wall
if one should hit, it catches
then the wall is more

old father of birth throes
won't throw in the towel

you can say river
you can say sea

time is the tree
climbed over the top
is deeper than first thirst

dust into bricks
bricks dust

up to our old tricks
always teaching new

worked years to have these years we're in
all hoping for forever

commands the whole economy

see in the glass
there's that much left
a little bird chimes

look into that sad face
clouds over like a world laid blank

out of the mouths of babes
what you'll get's endless puke

a slingshot could take out the clock
then you have spoilt time's flag for a trice
tick tock
you'll notice how we're gone
you won't

once it spread by poles and wire
or you could burn the stuff

it's one way all could haves
the other no ever or maybe not yet

nor need time ever spring to life
comes back?
do you think?

you can sleep through

if you don't love yourself, who will?

there's nothing we have to do

one moment in our heaven
a thousand years paid down

Tuesday, May 22, 2018

Rob Schackne #660 - "They mean lucky"

They mean lucky
I mean I am lucky
a few sticks & leaves
cast like the I Ching

in the bush and me
picking a way along
till someone trips

on black the camera
or snared on a wire
taking a leopard
for a short walk
but this is no war zone

never seen that before
I am embedded
in places we don't see

how far this goes
vision diminished
something coming
straight at me

Kristen de Kline #204 It makes no sense

It makes no sense

1. Lights swinging at the Old Duck

2. The rain trespassing across the highway

3. She said she was writing a thesis about longing

4. I watched the tower collapse

5. You wiped blood off a meat cleaver

6. And a second jet-plane fall out of the sky

7.  The skies had been blue     then

8.  Somebody destroyed the evidence

9. Then     you said we had been in love

10. 11. 12.
I don't know where they went.

Can you feel
my heart

Red Cone (LF) #346 The lake

the lake
dull silver
grey blue
something Russian
about it
fresh water
reflects the
sleepy full clouds
yellow ochre reeds
hug the shore
alongside round
grey green bundles
russet streaks
intercept the stripes
and violet
challenges nature
field limestone houses
from another century
lie abandoned
and the wind blows

Kit Kelen #872 - silence of the grave

silence of the grave

the truth
is a maze in the blood
consists entirely of what you were told

so is the river run through

let's play forget
apocalypse, messiah

you'll get the holy haunting yet
all you can believe

for the price
of what they're calling the soul

and later burn a heretic
so as to form the habit

the ancestors at large in me
just won't shut up
each of them is telling tales

my father's uncles
his father too
the ones who lost the family
lost the war
fell under another

then they go proverbial
o where is thy sting?

tomorrow they will say the sky

today has a date
they all do

but will an object keep to its meaning?
you think of it a bloodless thing

I followed a trail to here

devout of tribe
it's the many mansions of us
went out in just pyjamas

grandmother must be mother of God
if I never met her
that's how a family works

though this heaven has been figured

here are the bereaved
and here's the manner of forsaking

call names
they're all ghost vanishing
gone for the greater good

I live in a garden of this