Category: music
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0906: Brigid’s Diary – A Six
Brigid’s Diary: Part 12.2, Arles, Spring 1836 Under the Floorboard The shouting started next door: boots on stairs, a man’s voice like a stomp, the scrape of furniture across wood, and the thin-pitched sound of children when they learn the house is not theirs. I tasted blood where I’d bitten my lip without noticing, salt…
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0606: Journal of SenHai
Senryuold branch, new blossomsthe tree never complainsabout starting over Haikucherry blossoms glowalong the dark and patient branchspring borrows the light Written for SenHai #55 Image from Unsplash.
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0606: Everywhere Poems
30 May: An Everywhere Poem: On Paper The postman arrives withmore origami,shopping lists, and a thousand other usesfor junk mail. Mum saved grocery bagsback before everything went plastic, then paper again. We wrapped parcels in them. No sticky tape. Only string. The paper reused. Life is made of reused words. To crumple,to fold,to toss aside.…
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0506: Everywhere Poems
Everywhere Poems don’t have a subject. They have a starting point and follow wherever attention leads. It’s — go for a walk and see where you end up. 26 May: A Kitchen Window Poem It’s 36°C, and I have winter on my mind. Cold driven deep into stone.Winter’s heart.Air sharp as glass. The kind of…
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0406: Everywhere Poems
An Everywhere Poem: Expectations while other girlsmade daisy chains, I dropped a hookwith a wormin a puddle and expected a fish. I’ve never been afraidof worms. Everywhere Poems don’t have a subject. They have a starting point and follow wherever attention leads. It’s — go for a walk and see where you end up. Some…
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0306: Slightly Dangerous
(an off-piste Everywhere Poem gone for Six) “How is it in there?” asks a man. “In a word, chaos,” I tell him,“but worth it; the olive oil is half price,” and I close the boot of my car while his wife claims my empty trolley. I hate this placebut always return,navigating the demonic ritualsof warehouse…
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0206: Everywhere Poems
Everywhere Poems don’t have a subject. They have a starting point and follow wherever attention leads. It’s — go for a walk and see where you end up. A Kitchen Window Poem there’s a birdin the birdbath, wings emptyingthe bowl, rain fallingthrough the trees. A grey squirrelcrosses the fence, its taila thickened brush — annoyed…
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0206: Brigid’s Diary – A Six
Part 12.1, Brigid’s Diary: Arles, France, Spring 1836 The Yellow House and the Thin Law We took rooms at 2 Place Lamartine in a yellow house that looked like warmth from a distance, and up close smelled of damp plaster, fried onions, and bodies worked too hard for too little. Around us, the neighbourhood spoke…
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3105: Meteora – Second Voice
The featured image is used with the kind permission of Nick (Spira) . Meteora UNESCO. Second Voice The cavesremainafter the voices leave. Dark openings in rock,like mouthspausingbefore speaking, where questions gothat are no longer satisfiedwith easy answers. A man enters the cavecarrying his voice. Years later, two voices leave. One asks.One answers. Again.And again. Until…
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31 May, Meteora: Remains
The featured image is used with the kind permission of Nick (Spira) who holds all rights. Meteora: Remains I. Passing Through Memory Not mountain.Silt.Water’s slow thoughtfulness. The sea remembers mebetter than the sky. Shell.Darkness.Weight. Pressure as language. I have worn the shape of riverslonger than rivershave worn names. A fish once passed through me.A root.The…
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