Archive for the ‘photography’ Category

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tea rose

tea rose



when it all falls away

all that’s left

is the beauty

of empty space

and the luxury

of thin air


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For Lis


Walrus once swam upstream

towards the apex, the pinnacle

of the high mountain

he spied from the cold stream

where muscular wild fish

spoke of bears


He swam the oceans of the Antarctic

where Leviathan creatures smiled

and waved

and strange huge birds

circled overhead

and recited poetry


He spoke to pelicans

who waited patiently in lagoons

in front of fish and chip shops

and he circled and sang with

elderly swimmers

doing laps in plastic hats

in winter


Walrus flew wildly and fearlessly once

over the lip of Killarney Glen waterfall

he saw the trees breathing

and he heard the rocks clapping

as he pirouetted skyward

towards the clouds floating

in the shape of a dreaming rabbit




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for Deb



my best friend

had a horse called Cindy

it lived in the backyard at Picnic Point

her Dad and Uncle ran a butcher shop


she told me, as a small child

she sat on the red carpet in the lounge room

and ate money

carefully licking one and two cent pieces

swallowing them one by one

her Mum would wait near the potty

for the coins to show up


this week, she missed the art gallery opening hours

found an op shop instead

got to theĀ  dump after closing time

forgot to get petrol

lost her wallet

had cheese cake at the Austral cafe


my best friend

the wimple free, artist, vegetarian

coin swallower

will never entirely trust anyone

who can’t say the word fuck

with passion, gusto and conviction



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may light

may light (photo by Monisha May)


The familiar constriction

of bang and violence

still surprises me

the downbeat of an airport drop off

In the emptiness that follows

I see through a corner of my eye

down the tunnel of warm milk

toast buttered to the edges

a fat, hot tear

I smell your absolute absence


Your Cousin’s borrowed memory

deserted, ruined Croft

rocky bay and black seals

the swirling, freezing North sea

Nova Scotia’s cold marble headstone

I feel the Gulf Stream rising in me

blood and longing

I hold this serpentine stone flat in my hand

and see you flicker

in my Son’s eyes

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Lamington World Heritage

Lamington World Heritage

For Mackie


Shine the lights on

the silver dollar tree

on that night

on that bend

in my car

the silver dollar tree


Standing out like a beacon

on my way home

a transition point

from my left to my right brain

way of seeing

after a PM shift


In my Nursie shoes

swish swish

slippy slap

in the halls

of a Nursing home

feeling contained


Silver Dollar Tree

I’m looking for you

every night on my way home now

looking for you shining

like a beacon

like a shining light


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the future?

the future?

for Dimity



I’m making friends

with the weeds

I spy you hiding, Billy goat weed

in your tomato suit


Dead heads snapped at the neck

and piled in a heap

lantana heading upwards

over the top of the shed


Green chickweed

colonizing the rose garden

with the wandering dew

and the Singapore daisy


I hear dandelions are tasty

roasted root as coffee

leaves tender

flowers in salads


If I were a weed

I would choose to be

a cobblers peg

friendly, transportable, adaptable


Farmers friends

sticky beaks

effective, efficient, annoying



love the weeds

for they may be our future

as the golf courses dry up

and the wells run dry


Sticky beak salads

may be the next gourmet item

and the best harvests may be coming from

in between the rows


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