Renders Otherwise

Spilling through
a window pane
incandescent light
renders otherwise,
the wind sighs,
its cup runs over
a dancing ring
around the moon
as bamboo plays
with silver dapples.

Serene Sighs

Leaves dance
on an old piano,
honeyeaters trill
to the setting sun
sitting on perches
caught in walnut.

A cat walks on faux
ebony and ivory
serial notes,
the deep tones
tickling her feet,
her own harmony.

A sea breeze gently
ruffles the lilac,
bees rush to their hives
as clouds dress
in rose and gold
for the day’s curtain call.

A poem with synchronicity

Perfect Right Here

Apricot light, through floral lace,
dappled flowers cast bold shadows,
she looks.

The sharp chin of her old cat rests
in the crook of her bent elbow,
they sit.

Red cushions pulled close to keep out
the fading twilight, a light is
switched on.

In the kitchen a casserole
bubbles, a smell of India
spreads out.

The dog is waiting for his walk,
impatiently pawing his lead,
he barks.

The doorbell rings, a door-to-door
salesman selling the Internet,
sent off.

She squints at the quinachrome gold
stream over her clouds, a counter
to cold.

The glaze is working, changing light
a perfect warm atmosphere
right here.

 

 

 

 

Earth Metronomes

Skyscrapers sway like bamboo
while the rigid oaks break;
lesson learned, and applied.

Then warnings based on
probability calculations
transformed to algorithms
modelling scenarios of giant waves
rippling, engulfing, reshaping
coastlines …

Then failure of power
to cool core rods,
projected contingencies:
nuclear reactors melting,
sea water urgently pumping,
no, not melting completely,
only partially; confusion,
hyperbole, paranoia
and reassurances
while radioactive plumes billow
in the air and on maps.

A photo of a toddler
scanned by men in white
for exposure, and given iodine
just in case…

Earth metronomes
continue to follow
mysterious cycles…

Avenue from Memory

We walked here,
you and I
along the avenue
dearest uncle.
We spoke of days
long since gone…
You took me
to a place
where you were young,
your heart was strong.

You asked to to take note
of every little thing…
It was your favourite place
where once you had a wine cellar
just beyond the ancient trees,
you shared bottles with the Baroness
and laughed many afternoons away.

A tear rolled down your cheek
as you hugged me close
knowing
this would be the last time…

Hazy

Hazy city skyline
Constantly moving traffic
Bridge to a temple
Sandalwood incense burning
Wafting heartfelt wishes

Commute

“Don’t run”
“no smoking under covered areas”
“this area is under video surveillance”
“do not leave bags unattended”
and a yellow strip
to stand behind
at the platform’s edge.

Announcements saying
“make sure you validate your ticket”
“touch on and touch off”
“the service is late,
we apologise for any inconvenience”
“move up the train so
other passengers can get on”.

Carriages moving
though the city
behind the facades
backstage, past backyards;
the route is mapped,
an elegant representation
on the walls beside the doors
amongst other signs
carrying injunctions
in bold; occasional poems,
and pictures sit alongside.

From My Window

This poem is now in Tuck Magazine

Cracks

In the corner
cobwebs
cunningly stuck
to the cracks
between the ceiling
and the walls
a spinner lurks
waiting for
unwary flies
to trap
their buzz of summer
or mosquitoes
to silence
their incessant whine
ever so patiently.

The spinner is my comrade
in arms against the six-legged.

Little Things

These tankas and gogyohkas  are about little everyday things.

Moon astride
a silvered elephant cloud
rides static solar winds
dismounts in the mountains
of Shangri-La

———————

Sentient city
with video eyes
capturing people
in flickering grids
dreams of security

———————

Kindred spirits
connect through Hertzian space
electrical impulses
transformed
into golden dreams

———————

I sheltered
in your shadow
warmed myself
in your light
until you learned to fly

———————

I will hold you hand
I will listen
in a place of stillness
I cannot take you with me
you must find your own way

———————-

Words jangle
platinum chains
confined to barracks
words plot
an escape

———————

Itchy words
in motion
in a pearl shell
agitating sand
making gems