in the fold of a leaf
droplets like moss
an army of dew
in early light
clubbers go home
i used to know that
the knees gave out
from the funk & dip
crackers & cheese
as the bass deepens
flaring nostrils
I forgot your number
& you forgot giving it to me
we're even stephen
the bar just registers
cashflow humming
the bank opens
what was my
pin

the sad trumpet makes
everything of nothing

a saxophone riff collects the air
draws on changing moods

dips & swings & halts & starts
changing tempo for effect

finding another layer
of notes and improvised melodies

without beginning, middle or endings
many of all

drums keep the line threading
a piano core

conducting with fingers & nods
painting in blue

a cleansing of raindrops
gently falling
tinkering delicate rhythms
highlight a sunset
through grey clouds
billowing across a tableau
nobody painted

these old walls
for many years
the dust settled
occasionally vacuumed

saxophone highlights
the melody drawn out
like the softest flick
pictures drawn by notes
the lilies are glistening
the backyard replenishes
newer shoots sprout
in spring they shall flower
more than last year

my own spirit
someone I knew
someone still close

has left
she floats
around my head

my sister lives
though cancer
stole her

from here
I went back
to our final bar

for a last wine
she speaks to me
sometimes I sit there

other times
I just look
through the stained panes

but she never
leaves
her crochet

on my sofa
colours surrounded
by black

if i sit at
that bench
i can glimpse

her hospice
through the glass
collect those shards

she's there
in the full moon
& the beat of the rhythm

she's there
in the way the music works
like she played those notes

she's there
in the lyrics & how
the words rhyme

she's there
around my head with the sounds
that make a melody

there she is
dancing in death &
still present

a gift you unwrap
passing the parcel
underneath layers

she's there
in the core of a package
& I miss her

& I keep on missing her
but she's there
in everything I do

she tells me
what to do and what to say
as I play

records we liked together
then it's time
to turn off the radio

that she listened to
between the pain from the bones
& the liver ache

they zapped & they radiated
until none of that worked
but she stayed

until that never happened
& nurses attended
in a room with a view

of a sandstone wall
where men sold their stuff
all those years ago

planting seeds that corroded
every part of her
while she crocheted

her way out of some
kind of abyss
that I can't help but miss

then she spoke of
smoking with that lady
who knew me better

than any other woman,
on a night in August
with the moon full

I feel you
wandering through my own
meanderings

that I can't understand
you
keep asking questions

without answers
so I type & I rewrite
the story of you

a woman of substance
who makes me shed
tears

for what might have been
but never was
then that final breath

slowly she moves into the ether
eaten away by angry cells
rebelling, a civil war
always that way
wine glass one side, cigarette the other
result of denial, a terrorist
bringing all down around her.

there's a time when the hour arrives
to retreat & leave & spare some troops
a losing front after years of battles
back to camp behind fortified walls
abandoned enemy with a taste for destruction.

she will haul it all down
collapsing walls
burying everything
while some sun remains
a well trodden path
escape must be quick

flame rose, stick of narrow
possibilities. orange flare
blue core
blackens oak splinter
fingers warm
sap absent
bending spine, a rounded tip,
carbon residue.
burn or extinguish. head splits
ashes glow, table glass & micro
blowtorch. moths left &
specks of grey
reflect in
a single ray of sun

hills bulge with eucalypt dimples
valleys flow, ending nowhere
flocking rosellas, seed seekers
knowing where to go
tease each others hunger
wings flap over husk battles

in a room of art a friend from the distance
approaches a moniker
seconds later a recognition
leads over pavers to an afternoon
discussion of gone years
the odd siren

day slips behind a mountain
milky cloud planes deepening grey
horizon pink stripes
fade to washed orange
a crescent high in the sky
brightens with night's intent

preparing for a different adventure
dark means a return to nest
with fire, ceiling, an armchair
another silent scream
a boiling stove
new words to consider

late in the afternoon
sun and moon equal
leaving the office
the rain has stopped
I brought an umbrella
incomprehensible logo
for a half hour walk
to work a phone
talking to folks
i don't know their names
i want to understand
how the missing piece
needs a special pivot
to fit properly
completing the picture
you walk down the street
the light turns red
you keep coming

energy flows from a chemical
intervention
so many involuntary tasks
ticked off an unscrawled list
plans metastasize. there may be a cure
in searching for sun on a morning in winter
parrots scratch for seed on the lawn
their flock depleted, somewhere there
hibernating for a change of season
freezing sleet & faded wings

fear stretches its tentacles
into dark corners where indistinct features
collect dreams on a frosted night.
episode one is about an artist
famous and almost encountered
doubts clouding over
& stifling shoots
where shutters click and the whir
of pixels freezes a moment
not to be captured

an orange pill, again each night
stuck in the throat then another gulp
waves break on a ragged coast
the words in a book begin to blur
a story moves on, fading letters
the stars paint a glittering sky
& moon hangs low under mountain pines
gradually the volume fades
a paper chain
& pictures start to haunt again

getting to wednesday
is no great feat
you tell yourself that it is
by friday you're a hero
planning drinks
two days ahead
missing appointments
empty enough
to make space for dreaming
fifteen percent to fill with things
that leach into eighty five
counts of daydreaming
between tasks that
finance sensory explosions
to carry us into
another week

distant trucks thunder, echoes
rolling to highways. rumble of an infinite snake
re-forms. bulb of early winter flicks a
chill dawn switch.

diet rest. roused by masculine weakness. mind a Geiger
lost to solace. months before, witness to birds searching for a
weathered nest returned to twigs. building new
shelter, stick by stick, between protected branches.

family of fledglings waits & squawks
for bugs & worms. engineer’s toil of wings, claws & beak,
gathering remnants from eucalypts, weaving
& melding a fragile & gradual shelter.

morning sheds light, more cars hum, the reptile
lengthens. blood streams through arteries to a vital *****
without heart, lungs gasp for breath. weary heads of
commuters magnetized to caffeine spill from stations.

roar of trucks, clatter of trains, buses hum and insecure
shouts through wireless devices to invisible nobodies.
green lights, red lights, chicken players. chaos of city stutters &
halts, stutters & halts.

sudden gust beats at coats and dresses, whips ‘round trousers.
leaves limbo as autumn strips summer from trunks. a new nest
hit by a violent burst tumbles, disintegrating to
fragments.

night of nothing
but tea
soothing the beast

burn fades
beach company
occupied towel

fish & chips
wealthy postcode
the sky turned black

blanket of hail
cracked from thunder
staccato notes

empty roads
despite saturday
a key in the door

early awakening
clouds outside
winged chorus

sun dim
rain again gathers
hugging the blankets

deciphering tweets
where do birds
shelter from storms

dawn turns a bridge orange
puffs of grey dot the morning
sleep heads turn, birdsong
awakens narrow streets of idle cars
skyscrapers come into focus
after a silhouette
horizon of blocks
projected with limelight
onto an empty stage.

later, clouds turned white
the tips of buildings glow
against blue
an early flock dips & swoops
morning currents
brush a face that catches
this ephemeral record
the eye of a camera
records only memory

in the final scene bacon sizzles
eggs  turn into pillows
a coffee aroma guides the cook
scraping toast with butter
the plates layed out
cutlery percussion
a page turns towards yesterday's news
the neighbour's cough
another alarm

explosions muffled by distance
colour sprays the sky
another weeknight
no cause for celebration
patterns spread across the horizon
black and white
leached of feeling
wondering what the occasion
I am missing is.
heading outside
smelling smoke
seeing mirrors
the conjurer designing displays
distracts me momentarily
until I remember again

windows blue, brushfire outside frame
lens snaps unfocussed souvenirs
button stuck & final landscape
reel changed in digital camera.

business armour, new & costly
spare strides, fresh shod feet
new path to wear & flatten trail
movement forward, steps with bells.

behind eyes dam pressure, fears of
others, games with blades, paper greed
leather pouch of cards, no perception
rides of ease & empathy bypass.

laundry dangles worn & fresh
warm breeze & sweat beads, pegs support
changing days, transforming month
summer growth for a turn of season

unexpected elements take you
off guard like a startled sparrow
collecting crumbs to build
a semblance of order
twigs come together and
people covet that
in certain places
frosted windows
guard against elements
wind whips up
raindrops begin
those prepared are rewarded
in unexpected ways
as simple as
arriving home wielding
an umbrella with snapped spikes

i would be OK
if not for the eyes of strangers
Sunglasses black

the narcissist
in a  mirror
i saw another

blurred silhouette
reflection
blinded by light

blurred pixels
reflecting digital
puzzle pieces

making a painting
matching a box
the sky illusive

connections elude
the entire image
grass sways in the wind

struggling with shadows
that don't match
watch the diagram

bucolic with sheep
another country
a photo betrays

table of fragments
that just won't match
the cabin complete

a flowing stream
meanders over
a piece on the floor

the grey of a sunday morning
everything muted
by clouds carrying stormy promise
over chimneys in the midst of a city
birds are heard
settling into the elbows of trees
no-one moves outside the gates
news reports repeating words from weeks ago
when battered wings hung out to dry
branches across paths
& on a mountain platform
a soaking gale extinguished a cigarette
stolen as headlights approached

the iron lace highlights a corner of the edifice
catches a moonbeam, reflecting into the masked eyes
of a robber tiptoeing like a chorus dancer. a couple
clink glasses, filled with wine. the waiter hears
a feather floating to rest on terracotta.
on the street below a woman with a bun has departed
the gallery, towards the window of a man hardly known.
she wanders through a courtyard. frames with eyes
scrutinise footsteps. heels echo in the square. she glimpses
in the reflection an indistinct moon. another illusion.
a fat bald man jumps on a bus. she's obsessed
by that portrait and had read in the news
stories of post-war posturings, a curtain imposed by a rip.
romance in the window & she never witnessed dessert.
somehow in the city a forest of trunks hides
a power-blue sedan & a man with a gun. she can't remember
what she's done. her sister escaped with a bag
filled with notes. dull clues. a uniformed team takes
their cues. they talk to strangers. she doesn't often do that
unless in a shop, for an order, or a bank vault with her code.
the plot mechanically drawn like the woman by her easel
in her 50s frock, trying to convince the telescope
he's the one. a siren wails as she arrives at a different
streetscape, blinded as a gaslight catches
the diamond necklace of a different diner
with a man who may or may not be her betrothed.
she tried to call. no answer. where did Norman go? black birds flock
& swoop overhead, hardly noticed against fading stars

a car hums as the sun wakes
a new day. a move with a list
of numbers. they draw a truck.
clothes, books, bed, music, electronic accessories
another room
with skyscrapers
a balcony looking down

another stranger to unfold
to keep things from
flowing over a cliff
in a hidden forest
of charred trunks
crunching footsteps
bushwalkers

are still & squirrel
their screens
away from the canopy
eyes safe from cacophony
tentative steps
tread upon worn pathways
a new source of food

a *** simmers
infusing flavours
held & prepared
a plate with irregular patterns
the harbour stretches underneath
a path unwalked
another horizon

filtered moon
your dull shine
illuminates scars
skin zippers
sealed and closed
keep the blood in

possum tail
a ragged trunk
a foe appears
hisses & spits
a star garland
the streetlight flickers

a year that ends
with hopes of change
a fire of irons
seasonal breezes
embers flare and
threaten roofs

droplets spot
extinguish danger
midnight strikes
a different tone
the song of a single
note

at 4am
with heavy lids
the dawn is nigh
sparkles fade
as dreams collide
their psychic cleanse

having been away
going through motions
absently drifting
a bag in the wind
drying out on the sand
waiting for the next tide
to replenish something
that's hard to define
has seemed lacking
missing in action
i read that book before
when I started
a new volume
some of the characters seemed familiar
however changed by living
days hard to keep up with
unconscious skills a pool
underwater resources
can be relied upon
when the blind lead with
strange instincts

the softest of smotherings
makes a cat purr
louder

lovely fat free words
strung together randomly
just may mean something

before the dawn
leaves rustle
in the courtyard

bamboo trunks
conduct the wind
hollow echoes

a white lily
dances gently
a solo performance

on a tree branch
the distant twitter
of birds awakening

greet a greying sky
as stars fade
& the winter morning

melts into clouds
dim in the night
deciding the day

flying away
for a time
warmer climes
those who matter
with a baby
I'll be new
wth a case
of clothes
adorning wine
in an unknown
house then
I can picture
friends in their wild
like they
see me

in the mirror
a red face
coloured by wine
often white
with shock
aloe works
for a time
then another
liquid

for four days
i haven't spoken
it doesn't matter
i know they're there
flowers blooming for seasons
beautiful salt

when I think of rock
a curtain of waterfall
an endless footnote

in the doubtfull blue
black wonders of the planet
print of the feeling

trying to find
original material
in channels of repeats
i've seen all these
I lived them
never expecting
to repeat
the same plot
dug deep
they all take their turns
shovelling dirt

after the working week
friday deeper into night
the tv news is the same
people drowned tragically
on the prevous broadcast
the limp child's body
reminded me
that these hours
can tempt and trick
with empty promises hard
to fulfill. sunday night
is the saddest black
heads sinking into pillows
imagining other days

your shape
in the wind
your fur coils
keeps you warm
undergarment weather
reinforcements
taking the strain
beneath the line
no solutions
nobody goes
there

so many hopeless
musings of yearning writers
scrolling many screens

a boy
with toys
of batteries
and musical
smiles & giggles

a bowl
of breakfast
as mum & dad
negotiate clothes
for swimming

lessons of arms & legs
the car back
to play
electronic
notes again

that was great
ten years later
lalique recollections
you weren't really there
like most of us
the music
we danced
& drank till we fell
down a new abyss
imax balcony
something to immediately
post

for my sister

such intricate stitching
in autumnal tones
your fingers creating
despite brittle bones

there on the sofa
we chatted and sipped
reruns with guns blazing
we knew the bleak ending

a daughter returning
from some fun or other
you dozed with slipped glasses
always a wise mother

the green squares
are sprouting
a force that renews
so many other beautiful hues

the sun keeps reflecting
all manner of blues
a grin from a tightly held
mouth near a noose

black borders surround
us all when we fade
your rainbow is rising
from such heavy rain

walk over the arch
to gold at the end
this blanket of love
warms like a true friend

when the photos are packed
the end is nigh
when you don't want to think it
but you can't help that
the cell gets in
takes hold like cancer
i don't really mean that
you've been gentle
introducing me to all those people
who were kind but i never
expected that
i never knew you knew
what I was missing
the only piece of the puzzle
was how you fit things together
that shouldn't go there
and I type and I type
and the auto-delete never activated
so i can write more lines
and sniff a path through palms
and shrubs and other low bushes
we take the bread and confess
secrets no-one should know
and I'm still here
lighting another cigarette
that glows in the black
but says nothing of time
or paper that's worthy
but the need to be mean
to get back the money
overrules all else and shines
like a light in a fist
showing all the potential
I feel your removal
your fresh shoots in the tropical summer
your space for leftovers
the time to be quieter

silver green in a night sky
i've been here before

only a ***
calls a cigarette that
without blushing
puffing away by the bay
waters lap like cancer
consuming the beast
clouds of now & then
faded
as fog is prone to
morning hours
which never see
me like this

for Andre


you arrived as she slipped
into that mysterious abyss

for weeks the void filled
with warm hope

the touch of your skin
electrically comforting

shuddering under me
something overtook your eyes

grey pools that never closed
as we kissed and I tasted

the sweet salt of your lips
a searching hunger

I felt as well
after the family funeral

we met again with my grieving
tears on your shoulder

your arms surrounding my
stammering utterings

ironing out the words with
reassurances and the indication

of something deeper
than I've seen for so long

then there was nothing
but silence and another death

our interlude broken
axe through an antherium

I had sent you a photo of
one of their flowers

the last night I saw you

ice chinks a glass
wedge of lemon squeezed
& splashed
clear spirit clouds over
uncatatonic

a sip & chilled lips
soothing afternoon
a pause with a cigarette
the worst things
are the best

there was a time when we stopped asking
mother stirring on the sofa in the morning
father snoring in a bedroom alone

there was breakfast to be done
school and work to be attended
no time for unasked questions

there were afternoons in an empty house
surrounded by friends smoking cigarettes
teenagers testing taboos

there were evenings at the table
three plates full and another burnt chop
a gambling man at the TAB or the pub

there was a time when the laws changed
hell broke loose with a violent storm
a drive to police with a stranger pursuing

there was never a time that I knew that man
I only saw odd and he seemed an imposter
blind to his havoc and angry from changes

there then was a time of relative calm
possessions gone and a room reclaimed
constant toiling to make sure of shelter

now is a time of mirrors and mazes
light refracting through a cracked prism
realising none of this is any reason

into the rabbit hole
darkness and damp
leaves of grass brush
the queen of broken hearts
ripped from pages of a diary
chapter twenty one
you made the same mistake
will you ever learn
that those dark chambers
harbour all manner of scares
you've met before
cards and tea and hats
never reveal anything
to change you
your arm plunged into earth
feeling your way
the rabbits sunning themselves
the answers absent
still falling
there's a light at the end
of the tunnel

postmodern theories
about words and sentences
make strange bedfellows

i didn't want to say it
i have before when you
weren't listening
even though i noticed
your earlobes react

i didn't want to remember
what that was like
i had been there before
and i knew
no good could come of that

i sometimes think of writing
things down & scrolling
to the next line
like each verse is
an interminable chapter

i write a book no one
would pay money for
who knew the story
they watched that
in an adaptation

another retreat in carriages sliding over girders
cliffs reinforced with cages full of rocks
the highway extended
deeper into gums

blue haze dulled by the season
planter boxes resist colour
at the station
nobody disembarks

the evidence of past fires blackens eucalypt skins
higher, green reflects a dipping sun
snow is predicted
the sky turns grey

another week draws its curtains
over missteps, assumptions & the ashes of various misfortunes
clouds gather, a soup of smoke
an indistinct sun blurs from showers

but still a sliver of day
shows rewrites
other roads to follow
having no faith in satellites

that fall to earth
words misheard, wrong movements
& dead ends
coded road symbols

late at night regrets pile up
so much ******* soaked in regret
it's hard to read the words any more
the codes of others are
jumbled static, a station difficult
to find. trying to tune into
some kind of future
a living severed by
a cruel taskmaster who beats the brow
smiling assassin
thinking of ways to cut the wine
already stripped
back to the marrow
the essencse of living is distant
stars in a stormy sky
you refused to respond when
compassion was called for
elements all out of balance
and it's too hard to know
where to go from here
the street map is so out of date
the money refuses to allow a better version
in a cul de sac a man spins
wearing glasses too dark
to find the way out