Tag Archives: Fatherhood Poems
The First 30: a postscript
Under the pepperina tree he reaches out with desperate hands, brings me a fist of leaves and whips my cheek to make himself known. The wind is harassing us: a fierce heat in her heart. I lift my face to … Continue reading
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The First 30: Day 30
It is hard to believe that Day 30 is here… it has been the most amazing time in our lives and writing these poems has been a real thrill, so thank you to everyone who has been following. There will … Continue reading
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The First 30: Day 29
let the postman pass us by — everyday, look deep into the mailbox of his eyes there is a love letter, written and waiting for you
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The First 30: Day 28
there are nights sleep comes saying: there is no room in your body for me to rest, no time for my dreams to sit at the heart’s table and write poems and because there is no sleep, the heart quickens, waiting … Continue reading
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The First 30: Day 27
you sing all your questions to the birds — dove, sparrow, mynah, crow — eyes held open against afternoon sleep I name each one, as your call becomes fuller, disturbs the flow of air the crow does not blink head cocked, he unspools … Continue reading
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The First 30: Day 26
like sleep’s first waking thought he uncurls, our warm unity, inseparable he is a bird, begging for mealworm the nucleus of this heart-thrummed heaven
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The First 30: Day 25
his hungry mouth gone slack the batter of syllables ceases sleep beats him like a brother, leaving his body to bob and shudder, as we turn the pram, half- a-suburb from home
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The First 30: Day 24
whenever my father went to tell me about Mawson and how he kept walking after losing the soles of his feet, I’d fall further behind, languish in the small universe of every rock pool all I wanted was to find … Continue reading
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The First 30: Day 23
the song: he puts all his voice into one repeated song the variations and subtleties he manages to inflect I’m often too frantic to catch it’s one song a siren from which all possibilities evolve hungry tired, wet dirty, in … Continue reading
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The First 30: Day 22
in the nursery, where light purrs in the mouth of a cat- shaped lamp, he is sleeping we drink tea silently and forget to turn the page, happy to watch each twitch of lip, the sound of life being made each note, so … Continue reading
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