Tuesday, January 23, 2018

Kit Kelen #752 - in early light


752
in early light

rub back a first sky to find
pillow for head upon
sun shone to show

so many tribes of birds
are at it
and gone

back in their dream
ways overgrown
and chase some insect
unknown make
(one of the older models)

it's every day for a first

all the music to which I aspire

start off on the track but it's already there

should it ever come to intentions
we're well practised with the dark








Monday, January 22, 2018

Kerri Shying R # 398 - World of Puns


World of Puns

don’t  talk to me
  in some unknown tongue tripping
to a land  I’ll never know 
monosyllables  curling up 
on the wrought iron gates
 of go back
 you are going 
 the wrong way  

here is the maze
there you go
flagless   begetting prisons
labyrinths  minotaurs  

do you

remember the mirror maze
at Luna Park
 before the Ghost Train
burnt down  and killed all those
people
 a salutary lesson
in amusement
    I would run in
to find five whole sheets
of me           the only way
to freedom was looking at the floor

she said

 you can’t run through a camping ground
you can only ran
because it’s past tents

she made me laugh  and hard
the innocence 
of jokes  not at
the expense of some
 one or other

no jungle-jim  for self-esteem  the internet
latter day haven of Christian science 
it knows
not what 


Kit Kelen #751 - we have as much time as there is (the moment revised)



751
we have as much time as there is
(the moment revised)

so sun shook here
so soaked
and some shade casts
in the moment

something's buggered there

our loves are all rolled up in
and it's here we rub
to catch a fire

you'd have to stretch to be there

you can turn it round in one
strike the right chord
some would say heartbeat
outa here

your suffering is over in
and any paroxysm, joy

it's to sneeze at
it's the making of the race

some rise up in the moment
-- bridges, pyramids

I have worked it out
I think it is the moment
gets bigger as we live in it

somewhere the roses are out
we will find them
take my hand
we'll be there

everything lent us
just for a life

Sunday, January 21, 2018

Kit Kelen #750 - the garden at night (two versions)


750
(two versions of the garden at night)

1
night at the garden

hats off

perfect
bird abandoned

lush in little distances
invisible, all edge

after the all-day drought
tidy where I've seen to
cool underfoot by path

towering, the forest left
much taller for the dark

all of day but us abed
most of night too shy to show

which frogs are for this chorus?

leaves lap at the falling dew

then how indoors looms above
bright, as in a book

past the light
a zoo of doing

circus
for the fairy camp

hats off
come cloudless

float in the stars
for this

night at the garden 




 
2
the garden at night

cool underfoot by path
tidy where I've seen to
after the all-day drought

lush in little distances
best invisible to edge
all of day but us abed

and towering, the forest left
much taller for the dark
then how indoors looms above

bright, as in a book
most of night too shy to show
leaves lap falling dew

past light
a zoo of doing
and chorus for the frogs

hats off
come cloudless
float in the stars

for the garden
at night
for this

Saturday, January 20, 2018

#169 Anna Couani door/waterfall


#168 Anna Couani hanging fruit, after Chris Mansell


Rob Schackne #568 - Over/Under

Over/Under

                      Somebody said they saw me,
                      swinging the world by the tail,
                      

                      Bouncing over a white cloud,
                      killing the blues.


                 
          Rowland Salley (2005)


The stars transparent
just so much they can do
the light years too late

No common ground
what is not discerned
when did you know it


What have you done
where did you go
how long did it take

Every evening
across the fence
a little girl wails

Titan has a sea level
the queue is hardly moving
sorry over sorry under

Swing it how it is
kill those blues tonight
all the voices calling


Kit Kelen #749 - two poems - adrift & merry go round


749
two poems

adrift

a page is an idea

make my own waves
am decided to be

I am constantly making
work for myself

there's enough of everything
to begin

believing in this how-much

slave of a truth
I'm to be

so many marks
left under
gone

I must be making them now

the self
and its steam
runs out

hooray

















merry go round

Senora pilasina
Voulez-vous le taximeter?
Le zionta su la seata
Tu la tu la tu la wa
-- Chaplin



who's spinning?

it's the leaf
down
twirl

it's stars

must be music

there are seasons and sun

run alongside
all the wheels in the world

mustn't go under

and why not this head?

today's the day inventing

somersault
(have a go at backwards)

in a particular nextness
the clock
and slosh
(pub full of goss)

drive around around
lion and the unicorn

must be
let's face the music
and dance
dance

let's face the music
and dance

Friday, January 19, 2018

Kit Kelen #748 - two poems -- summer night, home & to pieces again

748
two poems

summer night, home


in a pond just my size
eyes up starring

and the dark between
is time until now

all the things in the world
are nothing to love

love is nothing
to time

frogs tell the night
I won't say sing

in a pond just my size
struck with the echoes

eyes up enough to know
I am of all this











to pieces again

study of the machine
hit
falling

I'm learning
all about myself

a war of atoms
and kingdoms above

the understanding
of velocity

now I see
how it all connects

you vanish in a moment
there is no other side


Kerri Shying R # 397 - another interlude


another interlude

in bed away from   all that summer
 divorced from heat    unless

it pours beneath the skin
 flaming brown forearms are

all you see for days  the eye
 unfocused   puzzles at the clock

Tuesday to Friday all gone
 into that sneaky sickness space

where everything is aspic  stuck together
 stopped  as a corpse’s heart

everything but
 pain

Rob Schackne #567 - "Water table"


Water table

Water table

Water table


RAIN


Come back 


tomorrow

and try it again



Thursday, January 18, 2018

Kit Kelen #747 - no better today


747
no better today

you can rely on the forgetting of titles, headings

imagine how it was
they were more next door
and took

that was the end of us
we were a little tribe
now gone

how do you hear from us?
you don't

we rely on your forgetting that

imagine who first had the idea prison
the idea slave

these are locked away from us

everything in its own good time

a certain kind of ant had a bomb
bigger than anyone, anything

you have to imagine how it was
hello?

Wednesday, January 17, 2018

Kit Kelen #746 - hearted with the other half


746
hearted with the other half

summer is half way through us

I listen in a mist
as if a mountain tipped me

I'm the under it

garden's half bush again

fools of us reach to this
when bee to bud impatient flits

woods half my age
let me along

leaves blow in the shed

who sits the gutters
deals in wisps

the outside's half in

must be more than halfway now
the self I halfway am

until I am half-masted
last breath
is my sayso

half spun
and halfway down

a world's not long for us
let's jam!

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Rob Schackne #566 - "In the old graveyard" (3)


In the old graveyard
near the railway tracks
on that hallowed ground

now deemed a 'Park'
(the funding is pending)
there are no discarded tickets
beat-up suitcases or
faded snaps of disappointing places

I'll just rest here for five minutes
the guide's bullhorn
turned restlessness
into an eternity 

the sky is unbelievably blue
Oh happy day

their souls travel first-class
this might be my train

Kit Kelen #745 - ancestry.com


745
ancestry.com


I was chosen a long time ago
I was one of the ones
parted some seas for a God


all of my cleansing was ethnic back then


all that poison in me --
and where can I get some now?


*


I was dressed to kill
but here today


lugged all this stuff here - just look!
you've no idea
what we lost on the way

*

lovely vampires
or a junkies' club

dead soon
and you too

not to be morbid

life's not to be missed

*

life's short and soon
we'll be nowhere at all

my own irrelevance
comes after

how's yours?

*

how glorious all our defeats
and still the tribe survives in me

the ravages of savages
are nothing to a war

it's out of all such weather
we come

*

game you cheer
and the cheerleaders fuck
and here we are again

having learned my weakness now

pass me a bottle
I'll drink myself over

you could die of the bright
in this kind of suburb

*

all other lives I might have lived
and they'd be over now

you'll believe this, won't you, fools?

bones of a nation to be
ash after all

*

now it's time to stop and play
I'm exercising a choice
I'm making up my own true heart

this is the mongrel me

Monday, January 15, 2018

Kit Kelen #744 - we of a breeze begin


744
we of a breeze begin


stain dwellers
tide turned


we are all the blood
for motion


we catch
ourselves
awash away


and each begin
into an intensity


here because
there's breath left


and sometimes hard
to spit it out


because I'm here
a word with you


begin because
there's still to climb


and we make mountain
of it


the earth
in fast thick pants


all overgrown
this orchard I


to the last rung
riser
cloud come in


squeeze


tether me any sea so


some days
dry twig
so heaven should bless


then tendril touch
and all enfold


caught to be kissed
and on


guess again
come bright
of the vision sought


certain notes
spin up from the fire


a pollen cough
or come through smoke


then we're the dark of it
thus far
carbon


must have slept to here
the snoring!
stertorous


we catch ourselves awash
and of a whim


then witness


it's work
this cramming air in


and call the forest lungs


call forth
a word because I'm with you


take mine
tell on
where I leave off


all of a breeze begin

Sunday, January 14, 2018

Kit Kelen #743 - scuttle


743
scuttle

in a library
piled
hiding

(work of accidents)
the picture in the page
fallen truth

all kinds of instruments in there

let a breeze

a leaf through the trees

that's opinion
I roll around on it

a garden all handles

here it's time waits
while we come

(tools and skin and poison)

and it is canvas
painted in
kooka branches

fur flown

breeze tops of a window
where cloud is only passing

the choir angelic
my radio heart

sat everywhere
for some snake puts a head up
and not a feather lost

haunt of a certain spider
we scare back into tin

a resolution sorts it all
that last flash was a year

close your eyes
see angles lit
(grey day in the book
where the sun shot through)

I followed a rabbit
wings had me up high
and tell brocaded chambers

I'm all outwitted here

only write the books I need
read a way this far
thus

who can see after me?
who's coming along?

Her Highness Antechinus
where?

when I command performance

off on adventures
in the biggest chair

a long long way in there

Rob Schackne #565 - "Take a look at you" (2)


Take a look at you
you've got five minutes
to hook up the trailer

hoorah the open road
bring around what you can't discard
old stories old books old poems
bad light soft shoulders and love

and how long will you be
at the dump or the shrine
the pedigrees of stink
we’d better get going.


Saturday, January 13, 2018

Rob Schackne #564 - A Life (1)

A Life

                  after Kerri Shying

A hammer and a nail
the neighbour's cattle
loose in the top paddock
I miss you by five minutes
it's just a phone call
such small things
we project with dismay
little chance of rain
other things with fantasy
dark with clouds.

Kerri Shying R # 396 - Ten lives


Ten lives

what has been wrong with you   all week
 afraid
 to have all the edges
of the small boxes of your life
  touch    
  hissing like a kitten
   the side-step   
nobody  has decided yet 
what to name you
  such small things  we project with fantasy 
  they grow
 I saw you 
stumping out  with the sack  
intent on a drowning 
    don’t you keep count

Kit Kelen #742 - les mots sous les mots


742
les mots sous les mots

bury the eye in heavens above
bark till the tree runs up

bill the bird for beak in
scratch

stim trumps twitch every time
(there are lots)

make the bastards want to read
and burn to blur
waft off
this senseless waste of charcoal

a little obliteration goes a long long way
or possibly that is the title

et sous les mots, les mots

it's out of the good woodwork
among the shapes
as heaven arrays
everything recycled

who'll choose
and who'll be chosen

democracy kicks in
pointed
as of the one mind
now unmade

no mark without direction, depth

no safe distance from a self

but definition in the shadows
a grade from whim through
convenient materials

grey pants

and rub till the thing stands up

go too far
go further
fall off and climb back up

a senseless waste of charcoal
before the flames commit

this is not the way in

see only through a little slit
registration of another
world
no, season
body
shape

the city whole
un-garden

it overbalances
where we tip out

every house is of its gods
it has to be light lets in

the aphorist will wink
we see

tap of the day
machine takes all in

work is the thing in progress
exhaust fumes come from here

go right through the paper
to the other place

all fucked up
could be a way of life

go too far
go further
fall off and climb back up

the art lecture
is all words too many

every house is of its gods

the wrapped thing
the underthing
the unknown
the buried

why does a thing deserve to be painted?

is there an eloquence in likeness?

each mark demands its own belief
one needs constantly to sharpen

if so returns diminish by law
pencil so

and then a city stands
an empire timbers out of frame

et sous les images, les mots
et sous les mots, images

there was a language there

let that begin my doubt

things inaccessible themselves

world other of the any mark

paint parties out

how dark the bright world corners them
you'll have this view of night

for things can't be reached
shall we draw a stepladder?

like diners
we gather to listen

sometimes look
and there's nothing there
you'll kindly picture that

there are no calories in this
a body cannot consist of pictures

faster than the work they come to

so live in the time beyond
it's an art to make
this standing
from the moment

rude presence
never lets us by

where hours and years have come to sit

though none look up

you smell the rain before it comes
and rally to the battlements
as with the other ants

every house is of its gods
it has to be light lets us in

nothing to see here

wherever you are
come out