Tuesday, November 30, 2004

sky bright a bit dim

Over on Silliman's blog, Ron S is saying he's up to 400 in his blog roll. No sky bright there yet - maybe Australia is too far away.

And, yes, I've been busy away from the blog. Last weekend was too hot to think let alone write anything sensible - or nonsensical. The weather does have a considerable effect on writing. I know of Sydney writers (not poets, mind) who have claimed that, come summer, no-one can write in Sydney. A large claim but the heat and humidity can be draining. But folks keep on writing in the tropics where the weather varies less, ie. it's always hot but sometimes drier than other times. I wonder if it is hard to write in the cold. It never truly gets that cold here so I have never tested it.

loose ends

look, the world is near
its twilight skybrights
horizon encounters
loose ends in the supermarket

but what of grief, indeed
the laws against sadness

if it can't be use
or value
don't look sky
or reflection

and near
always near
but no entry
no bounce

Friday, November 19, 2004

that box of a year

in trees a problem
emits burning

propped up grass
cleft between colours

the shutdown life
another way round

varied, when questioned
the yellow calls

outside answers danger
black to the rim


I go to sea
I go to star

a memory of one
by the future

sea admits time
piling up
and return

what is left
star distant
oscillates memory

Tuesday, November 16, 2004


underneath the star
to smooth the low point

you also went away
some attack in you

in the lobby?
to be this open

green continuous lives
errors written in movement

accumulated, forgotten, occupied
repair the cover of days

the times the city forms
whispered a project of dissolution

this oscillation delays
the low point

goes cold
to derive itself

excess to move through
birds, the trees, the barrier

around the blue time
an interior illuminates

at points of zero
the work takes with I

'i don't like it'

Eeksy (Malcolm) is going great guns over at zotz doing a wonderful number on The Best American Poetry 2004. Check out the commentary on Billy Collins by the top team of Hedgehog, Visitor, Guppy (or maybe thousands) and Carp, who sounds like our own Pauline Hanson ('I don't like it'). Not being a fan of 'best' things, it tickled me, it did. We're beginning to have 'best' things here in Australia. Always trotting in US shadows. Shame, innit. Best is a pest.

six o'clock

gull struck sky rather than flag distant bridge

more hay(na)ku

a stony line

fern luminous
bathed in seconds

skeleton disposed
in the door

in rock
oxide and flower

abundant walls
of refugee dream

the door
where words fly

robbed sea
commerce the surface

bandaged eyes
the remaining day

towards outside
to continue being

Monday, November 15, 2004

new form for me

I came across this form - hay(an)ku - and so went for it, as you do. I suppose everyone's been doing it for ages but thanks, Eileen.

fragile white
in an easterly

beyond me
and for which

strong outside
as if enough

touchwood dry
tender would touch

reproach from
making a mark

pitch block
rage the risk

Thursday, November 11, 2004


Children in immigration detention
latest stats, rally next week:
16th November, Canberra, lunch time

There are 101 children in Australian immigration detention as at 3 November 2004. This is a disgrace - there are 41 children in Villawood alone, including an unaccompanied girl. The Iraqi and Afghan children in Nauru have entered their 4th year of incarceration there.

If you are in Canberra on the first sitting day of the new Parliament lodge your protest.

Details here: www.chilout.org/activities/canberra_convergence.html

We need to put compassion on the national agenda. This is an issue of human rights, not party politics.

Please ask your organisation or party to endorse the Refugee Charter, launched during Refugee Week by the new UNHCR Regional Representative in Canberra, Mr Neill Wright.

You can find the Refugee Charter at www.refugeecouncil.org.au or contact Refugee Council, 02 9660 5300, to sign onto it.

To see some facts and to compare us with the world, check the link:
at the Refugee Council website.

Wednesday, November 10, 2004

mud and rain

there's no middle of the road

Monday, November 08, 2004

the energy of deferring meaning is the poem

Sunday, November 07, 2004

between love and trees

I, on the other hand, go to the crossings.

What clue gives form to the world
one that’s a virtue? Must I be sincere?

Is my wastefulness complete?

Under the colour of lorikeets
a green bulb of sun
in a car with you at the edge of the sea.

A cloud of resistance
to the movement next and behind
a type of tonality.

At last you sing to the dream
a halting lateral type full of a whole underworld jargon.

The sun’s under time.
What are the colour of stars this month?
If it’s cold how much is within the work of ice?

The cliff is damaged.

In a parallel system would it be the way of the dog?
Younglings, clouds, position in sky.

It’s the danger brain, the handspike’s emission
the mine report and its ratio
dance of structure to an edge inside changes.

At extremities of skin
television is the colour, a clear blue cold starts
to level slowly without pilots.

With your handguard
make the end circle my extremity.

Efflorescence traverses the window
and a horizon of axe shavings
after steel at the rock.

Go among the coils.

david gitin

Here's a sky bright poem from American writer, David Gitin.

White on blue









Friday, November 05, 2004


the world really has been slighted
its luminous conservatories enclosing dust
in circles of skybright
ventricles of whales are blue
under the chugging ocean

examining my heart
as its effects ignite in morning
well-being leaves its marks

Thanks Tom. You're already on my list.

And commiserations for the recent black day.

Hold tight world, uh-huh!

Thursday, November 04, 2004

something for today

Power ruptures at a thousand holes
Leaking the ancient air in,

The paraphernalia of a culture
On the gantries

And the grease of the engine itself
At the extremes of reality

Which was not what we wanted

The heart uselessly opens
To 3 words, which is too little"

- from Power, The Enchanted World, George Oppen

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

recollections in the stairwell

I found you in a bar
where you found me among
volumes of scratching amazons
their alto pitched at sky openings
where condemned jets sounded
dum-doom doof-dum
and speakers rippled the floor

there was a degree of dark
for giving transactions
that led to aerosol delays
and cool dismembered afternoons
in the blue style
we were scandalously sleeping
amongst the silver dust

meanwhile, the stairwell resounded
between two zones

australia goes to the races

thought of the day:
do I bet on the mare?
mare is the favourite.
how about that!

Everyone in Australia is talking about the track in Melbourne. What about the track this world is on? Firm or muddy. We might know about that soon, as well.

sticky memory

Lovely 'sappho' poem on Stephen Vincent's blog. I liked these lines - and the last word.


Certainly, she says
I am your memory
What is old and ugly between us

As if surrounded by weeds
The stickiest burrs
Will be torn out, taken out to the dump:


Monday, November 01, 2004

good night

sky bright sleeps
as night wakes morning

Maybe pelicans dream of sky bright.

Happy birthday for Sunday, Mark.

a question

Are you my intruder, reader?

details, details

how to choose the significant details
the associations which are latent

metaphysical realism?

"the rhapsody of things as they are"
- Wallace Stevens

but nothing as, is ...