Category Poetry

separation

it was not easy, it was not slow it could not be held back, it could not be dissuaded it could not be weakened, it could not be stopped it was fast, it was not easy it could not be kept from killing the heart, it could not be weakened it was not slow, it […]

State of Being

There is the stillness of the table lamp Bending over a sleeping poet Slumped across his drafts The stillness of a photograph The stillness of an apple Before the crunch The stillness of a lake Before the rain The stillness of rest The stillness of the heart when she’s at home The quiet of lazy […]

Four Poems

The ‘A’ Car There have been nights in these unimaginable times slicing down the empty highway in my ‘A’ car when I had felt like some energy, some chosen purpose, a voice created to penetrate, created to tear through this horizon of darkness. An indulgent thought — born of speed. But beneath the thought I […]

before take-off

i settle back into my budget airline seat i shall be occupying for the next seven hours i close my eyes, and nestle deeper, feeling unexpected ease it does not bother me that all i can hear is carry-on bags scraping into overhead compartments because i listen the way i would listen to the river […]

What I Know

The State Library in late evening is an ancient world: low light outside trickling through glassed-ceilings, wooden floors gleaming against the dimness, shadowed figures about to leave. These quiet hours you walk into the musty odours of old volumes, feel the movement of a hushed dialogue, like stiff wind upon brushwood. The time of your […]

The New Connection

People today use their cell-phones way too much. They are busy all the time. You see their mouths move animatedly while they are driving. They don’t stop at pedestrian-crossings; they go in the wrong direction on one-way streets. In the office tuck-shop workers satiate their eyes with someone else’s lunch on Instagram. Across the table, […]

The Writer

On Tram 48, running from Balwyn North to Victoria Harbour Docklands, where all the footy bums come on-board, enroute to the stadium, there is one who has a large-screen cellphone in which she uses to write, from stop to stop. She touches upon the alphabets, without obvious hesitation, quickly, her thumbs tip-toeing across the keyboard, […]