Tag Archives: poem
haiku hit
Want a quick hit of haiku? I am currently participating in a Junicho lead by Ashley Capes and was asked to submit three haiku for a summer verse. Here are the poems I submitted: still dawn every cloud is … Continue reading
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On the Island (part x)
Our weariness chose the island the slim biography each wave writes. Now body, breath and wave are one. Our pulse is steady, grammatical nothing can change our rhythm. We smile, full of the sea’s madness like a pair of cockles, cupped … Continue reading
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On the Island (part ix)
I’m here and not here, where dusk stretches along an empty beach. Sighs fall from waves and a small wind hunts through the dunes. I’m here and not here, floating slightly above myself my feet tethered in sand. Clouds letting … Continue reading
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On the Island (part viii)
Too slight, too ephemeral to merit attention the tiny bodies of fish woven in seaweed. Each glittering scale with little or no ritual rejected. Graceful little corpses that scarcely existed here … on the shore of the living.
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On the Island (part vii)
The rains are late this year. Shadows doze like ‘roos beneath the palms. The swaying of our clothesline looks like a woman’s clavicle – a woman who dreams of her lover’s journey home across the bay. I raise my head … Continue reading
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On the Island (part vi)
Just above the high water mark, she holds a turtle hatchling to her heart, as if wound to wound. Nothing to hold the circling of gulls whitely, whitely but this immaculate moment.
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On the Island (part v)
I saw nothing but waves and wind … The moon rests in a broken frangipani tree wearing love’s best flowering hat. Lightly, like boats, leaves rock and spin, blood-dark birds stir; above my head, mangroves lean. … Continue reading
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On the Island (part iv)
Two dogs, living on opposite sides of the island come to bathe in the river. Both have been nicked and gouged, bled closer to the truth. Both panicked, have fled stone and steel, the blood-letting of their own heart’s soup. … Continue reading
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On the Island (part iii)
Most people know nothing of silence. The sun is coming down and the tide up the grammar of clear water will have a calming effect. In the dying light, we remember the winter of locusts and how children are taught … Continue reading
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On the Island (part ii)
A lone sea eagle pays us an early visit from the mainland, long before the first storms of summer have formed, gliding high over she-oak and fig, great nesting territory; is harried by a daredevil troop of gulls, small-jawed disembowellers, … Continue reading
