Stench

Nostril hairs rebelling
I cross the threshold
of  her house thinking
that compassion must
prevail over matter;
I must confess to a slight cheat,
cocktail of eucalyptus,
peppermint, citrus, melaleucca
oily underneath my nose,
aromatherapy for my soul,
yet waves of death, cat
and dog piss and shit
and piles of nonspecific mess
assault my complete sensorium,
“don’t forget to breathe
or you’ll be giddy,”
I whisper to myself.

I brave the kitchen first,
she says she wants
the cupboard doors wiped
clean, I wander through
a swamp of empty food tins,
food scraps, dirty plates
knives and forks,
damp yellowed newspaper;
I spy a mouse long mummified,
the window’s covered in greasy paper
cobwebs festoon the frame,
with spiders fiercely black
abdomens thumbnail size
begin to run disturbed
as I begin to sweep
to let the daylight in …
and tell her that it will be fine,
together we will get there…
and I try not to hold my breath …

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Erasure

Shadows crawl creep across
a timber wooden ground

a sprinkling of dust

mingles consorts with
ancient solar light

a reedy insistent critic
screams drones in ostinato,

“sweeping is a virtue”

defiantly
I open fling the window wider,
curtains surf the windy swell

erasing scrubbing out the voice nag
with a millet broom – it has red and yellow
threads strings holding binding  it together…

now, the mottled light slides
across a timber mirror floor

the sundial of a pleasant day
meets the golden hour

when I set off into the mellowness outside
to shoot paint poems
with images that move

the carping voice
is silent still…

A Red Kerchief

a red kerchief
waves from a tired
anchor chain

sunlight paints
weary warehouse walls
cameos of leaves and butterflies

jagged glass
glints in a puddle
edged with green

on silvered wood
he sits dangling
a slender line

iridescent dragonflies
dart apaches above
a senna river

the line dips low
the red kerchief
applauds

another supper caught

For

Open Link Night ~ Week 79

Wheels

A slight

frisson

ripples almost
imperceptibly

deep beneath
the river’s skin

forlorn
she skips a stone
across the water
hoping it won’t sink
into the slime
where fat eels lurk

stars glisten
in the warm sky
as he farewells
a floating lotus lantern
hoping for a true love
to appear

she sees a bright flame
floating in a lotus
lantern

she walks back
along the riverbank

a chance encounter

she bumps into him
and so wheels turn
again…

 

OpenLinkNight ~ Week 78

A Place Closeby

I move along
the ground, balancing on each
leg in turn.

On golden stalks
ripening seeds catch the wind
in a thoroughfare,

I am arrested,
compelled to stop and listen
with my eyes,

I hear sounds,
traffic in the shopping strip,
punctuated white noise,

I have walked
here many times catching light,
imagining noir scenes,

the warehouse arches
its rusty corrugated iron back
into blue sky,

I venture closer,
there is a surprising absence
of human voices

and no graffiti
shouting from the rendered walls
stained with decades.

A drainpipe slithers
breaking it into almost halves,
balance is precarious.

Poetic inspiration: dVerse– FormForAll: La Lune (Collum) w/ Semaphore