Month: July 2011

My Woman

My woman is a guitar.
She lies next to me.
When she is playing
I like to be a song on her lips, however
They are made of steel
My fingers hurt if I play too much.

My woman is the guitar on my bed.
She is my best friend.
When we cry together we cry the same tune.
She is a good listener and I am also very attentive
I caress her neck pressing carefully near the backbone,
she is always grateful.
I love the way she smiles with a O shaped mouth.

My woman is a guitar.
Sometimes at night when we are making love
cats and possums hear us through the bedroom window
They go crazy
they think it’s a circus.

Folding Colour

The colour of towels
hang in my house
down, like waterfall
from door-corners and window sills.

Some outside
some on racks
All open mouthed
spread welcome.

I have paintings also. They are static.
The towels move around.
They’re the colours of angels
blessing a clothesline
or bedroom floor.

If I’m wet they dry me
if they’re wet I dry them
It’s a good arrangement.

They smile at me, and often
break into laughter
when I attempt folding

they think it’s a hoot
trying to fold away colour

This Symmetry

(for jeff)

To see where you’re coming from

To get you

To take you seriously

To understand your deepest intent

To legitimise your ways of being

To love you for you

with no conditions

This symmetry of friendship

to balance worlds

Saved from Grief

she hanged herself

by noose from lintel

called the police

moments before

knowing that

the response time

would save her friends

the grief

of finding her

After Cutting Timber

after cutting timber

at the top of the hill

I waited for you

not long enough for the magpie’s

wing-feather to fall from the conifer

and then your silhouette

along with the sunset

struck me

and drawing closer

your smile

drawing closer


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