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Harvest
[photograph by Cindy Keong] Cane trains roll on the threshing floor of winter — snakes, sweet husks, all that’s left of desperate toil. Hawks’ fevered circles fill the sky — the green of imagination...
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At the Sky’s Edge
Mountain sounds carry a chill wisdom, no divine voice as I grind my ink. A cloud scrapes the tops of pines, becomes a wounded dog. We cower together before the snap and snarl of sky. ***** While the...
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Blue
i. As if dreamed in a fever the mountains appear as the splayed spine and knuckles of a kneeling beast its hide of stone sloping down to reveal scriptured cliffs and a thousand small cairns ― the...
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Eleanor in the garden
late afternoon, the raw wind picks up and mountains dissolve into silver it could be any age, Eleanor ― ten thousand years ago, or a time when you tended the garden blonde grasses in swathes on the...
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Circular Poetry Contributor: Graham Nunn
Reblogged from Letter.Box.Stamp.Collect.: Our next contribution to the Letter.Box.Stamp.Collect project is from poet Graham Nunn. The poem is called Eleanor naked and this is what Graham has to say...
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Three ways of looking at Eleanor
I am now back at home, missing the studio and the spirit of Eleanor, but happy to be in the arms of my family. I cannot even begin to tell just how much this week has changed me as a writer… what I do...
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Blonde on Blonde
for Julie i. Record played, we crawl into bed and face each other in hip-tight hot embrace. The pure note of thighs parting like a sugar pill, a salt smell, a well-baited hook. ii. Rise with dream...
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Navigating Eleanor: East
i. the sun’s late rays corrode evening in her skin, copper blood on a tissue the crow’s split tongue ii. or rather, gives her blood to the sky or the dream of the sky perhaps just the dream of the dream
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Navigating Eleanor: South
i. night air floods the narrow gutters of the body chills the bones of her in-grown wing ii. all the singing has moved to the tops of trees on the bare earth a wagtail swings like a vane
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Navigating Eleanor: West
i. just out of the Wollemi pine’s dark reach a kestrel writes on the wall of sky wing knife in space ii. soon everything disappears — the fruit trees, stubborn ferns and violets the earth itself...
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Navigating Eleanor: North
i. through the quietness, through earth’s dilations the nightjar releases its madness — radiant, radiant it spins like a jewel into night’s pupil ii. the darkness is like a drug the voice of a lover it...
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Snow on the Lake reviewed by Patricia Prime
It’s been a little while since I published a review by Patricia Prime, so I was excited to receive this in my inbox today… Discovering a new haiku/haibun collection is always a joy so I hope that this...
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Eleanor steeps the tea
sun runs down the spine of the mountain and the bowerbird stews blue flowers in its throat
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Eleanor beneath the copper beech
in russets and reds she plays throwing great handfuls of leaves into the prowling wind that old fox who has taken this day by the throat
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Eleanor sees the light
a wollemi pine points the way to heaven ― holds highmost a cross we keep to the path the moon packed with tobacco and set alight burning up our footsteps
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Eleanor prepares
a blood orange slit like a magician’s trick two cheeks of light so beautiful a passing bee loses itself in the unkinking scarf of juice
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Nocturne for Eleanor
her face next to mine and we are kissing so deeply we unlock the soft darkness inside each other its naked endlessness blood and wonder
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winter sun: a haiku sequence
This morning, while thousands pounded the pathways of the City Botanic Gardens as part of the Brisbane Marathon, eight of us walked, sat and opened our minds to the lush green landscape, the chorus of...
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Haiku in Translation
Got some exciting news today that a second haiku has been published in translation (in Chinese) at NeverEnding Story, by poet, publisher and translator, Chen-ou Liu. To know that this poem will be read...
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River (part x)
[two fragments] * thief, thief the gulls call while you rush on breathing * only you are able to make your way back from that voyage toward death
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