There came a strong and potent silence, Thick and far too rich, far too strong, That absorbed my words and swallowed my mind In the echo of the spoken, unsung song. You slowed the world and made it crawl, With your pause and wordless request, You waited, though I could hardly move, And the universe [...]
Soft-supple bread beginnings start to grow, By baker’s strength, guessed science, craft and art, The firm, round neatness of the rising dough, Swells my kitchen’s role at domestic heart. Though the hallmark of this spice-scented place, As my dough- and flour-strewn garb attests, Is the total absence of tidy grace: Mess belies the hope the [...]
There is a sweetness in expectation, And a richness in anticipation, That is extended by hesitation, And unmatched by eventuation. I find a definite joy in waiting, Which is absent in the actuating, While my impatience is elevating, The final event is too deflating. The realisation of ambition, Lacks the sweet haze of premonition, And [...]
Raising a gentle and thoughtful point: She gestures, apron-clad, And emphasises with half a fruit in her hand, Explains with patient diligence, tact; Making the point an iron fact. She is wreathed in scents of spice and tea. She laughs and curses and claps her hands, A typhoon of swirling laughter, bag, coat, leaves; She [...]
Every day there is a new mark on the mirror; A toothpaste smear, A reflected stain, A new mole or stray hair. Every day I clean the mark off the mirror; I spritz the smear; I scrub the stain; I pluck and scour the hair. Some days there is too much in the mirror; And [...]
So, I’ve completed a second week of poems. I feel pleased beyond all proportion. The novelty of this self-imposed daily deadline hasn’t left me yet, and I will be on guard against the slightest sense of fatigue or weariness and stamp it out immediately. I really liked “Five Short Poems” and “Wintersweet”: I got a [...]
I have found five short poems today. Each a ray, a glance, a note: Tiny poem-souls that glint When they catch the light. I. “Happy Xmas 1989 Love from Auntie Gaye” written in spider-scrawl inside this book. Next to it, in pencil “$6.50″ and a stain. II. An endless blue bowl Cups the world And [...]
I often wish I were a somewhat loftier soul: One only pleased with the highest, holiest joys. Some sort of quasi-mythic, reverential figure, With quiet simplicity and dignified poise. But I fear I would only be lying to the both of us, And you are not likely to be so easily mislead: You know me [...]
I welcome winter as an old dear friend, who visits all too infrequently, since she comes laden with such blessings as make gluttony a new virtue. I. A bowl of hot, spiced, sugared oats, creamy-warm, thick and soft. A voluptuous cup of liquid chocolate: lush and hot. II. The humming of the oven’s fan while [...]
I cannot write with indigestion; There can be no poetry there. I cannot write with heartburn or reflux – A wounded stomach, who can bear? I cannot write with chilblains, either; Or hayfever, spots or hives. Surely no poet ever had a pimple, Theirs were unblemished lives. I cannot write with this cold sore, Or [...]
