5min posting a day (#69)


Even in the space between
a squall of winter storms
something pops-up that surprises us all
and finding that the storms weren’t so bad
not so bad at all

there are folk who will readily
bare their teeth when the hunger strikes
but it cannot last
their peace is small
their hunger is great
and will not let them pass

amongst the storms
a murder of plotters
it has been their day
for quite a few days
there is a cemetery dedicated to their work

but their season
and their reign
is drawing to a close
twilight touches their way

amongst those injured
harmed and bitten
there is one who is different
passing through the wreckage
a fragrance riding on the breeze

looking at the smoke settling on the day
removing a notebook from the pocket
pen sadly touching the page
someone must take up this task
and this is what I have observed
after we have cried
we will all laugh together

after all is said and done
someone asks who you are
holding the pen and scratching the page
and there comes an answer

I am Cassandra
I am the rishi the sattva
I am the wind
that swirls around
in your mind
and drives you mad
I am the sun and the moon
a plate on the run
with a silvery spoon
in the spaces between the letters and words
the eye of the day

the historian and the elephant
together in the room

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5min posting a day (#68)


It is a strange thing to say
it will make your bones harder
are your bones hard enough ?
you will need hard bones for this job

so drink lots of milk
these folk will grind you to a paste
they will crush your bones
and feed them to the lemon trees

a strange thing to have on a job application
but we must take it as it stands

you will need strong bones to survive in this place

that is what they say to newcomers
as they crack their knuckles
and flex their arms

but looking around it is possible
possible to see
to see that
see that there are
there are those
those who will
will survive
survive this place

that congregate in small groups
the bone breakers don’t notice them
lots of small groups
they do things like write poems
and stuff them in the back of pianos
they have pieces of nicely printed fabric
that they probably paid too much for
they draw things in odd spots
and host banned thoughts and ideas
they even let flowers grow in the cracks
they casually step in puddles
and play fine music
with lots of errors in it
and are happy

they look after themselves
and each other
and wait

one day the bone-breakers will go away
they know it
their bones are fine and strong
but they don’t show them off
they will wait quietly
in the background
until the bone-breakers have all

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5min pressing a day (#67)


The sky, beginning the day cloudy
becoming greyer by degrees
darker in shades
of grey

there is an imperative is that we should go out
run around in circles
do something
see new sights
experience every type of sense

there are times when it all seems a bit tiring
that we just don’t want to do it
and so thus ignoring the imperative
defaulting on the decree
staying where we are

the rain starts
a few drops at first
becoming a lot of drops
a sheen of wetness
and a downpour

somewhere not far away it falls as snow
something that is exciting and good
for it won’t last long

and we
having not strayed far
will sit beneath the hole in the roof
for it lets in the light
even if it is slightly grey

we will sit and drink tea
and talk of all of the things
from days gone by
of pops and grandpops
two rotten aunts
and three who were kind
and an unfortunate arrangement
some cuzzies – strange or funny
sissys and bros, ma’s pa’s and grandma’s
until we have remembered them
is well as the drops of rain fall

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5min posting a day (#66)


Everyone might bring their blankets
their baskets
and bags of bread
buffalo cheese
and biscotti
meeting together on the riverbanks

whether they have brought something or not
we will sit together to eat
to consume the substance of life

all around life sings and calls its song

a train passes over the bridge
together everyone from everywhere near and far
whistle with its song
a dog running backwards
and forwards
looking in every bush
a porky bird
yellow-tips and a happy smile
devours small critters that live in weeds
the ducks quack and laugh
at each other as they land
but when they are on the water they are as happy as happy can be
there is a waka full of maori warriors
parked under the bridge
swallows swoop down and skim
across the surface of the water
shining and smooth
still it pushes back against an encroaching tide
even with the help of the wind
it will not prevail
and humans
tread clumsily on the mushrooms as they pass

looking up to see
the warriors have become shags
on a tangle of driftwood
the tide will win

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5min posting a day (#65)


A big party in the mushroom kingdom
all members of the family of fungi have been invited
even the toadstools
the toadstools have been invited too
even with their terrible reputation
their poor public image
the toadstools have been invited to this party

they travel through the soil
and wait for it to begin
the days get cool
cool and cooler and cooler still
then the sky starts to fall
it cries
the sky
and falls into their kingdom

soon the party will begin
all are invited
not all will come
amongst the fungi and mushrooms there are
some who live in another place
where it is damp all of the time
they recognise no special days

they don’t care whether it is cool or hot
they don’t care whether it is rainy or sunny
they have their own supply of moisture
always there when they need it

they would invite the others over to visit
but are not sure
that any would come
for travel is difficult for a fungi

so when it rains it is a special day
teardrops fall from the sky
and a big party is held in the fungi kingdom

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5min posting a day (#64)


It all started with a days hard work
an afternoon of unbroken effort
driving-in wedges, sawing and axing
until finally a chip is cut off the end of the island and is
launched out to sea

chopped off the end of Italy
of all places
because we like it so much
and because it reminds us of home
we will take our paddle
and row to wherever the tides and currents will take us

just remember, that the Pacific Ocean is not all flat
and not all warm

there are still places where biting
spiders congregate, sea snakes nest
in cold ocean currents

when we have arrived there
we will announce our presence
with a poem
long and grand it will be
it will go on forever
it will be the poem of our life

we will utter it without interrupting
our breathing
enact it without hesitation
here in this little Italy in the south

people will come and watch for a few minutes
before moving on
reciting our lives without a pause
until one day
it just stops
silence comes to fill the space where we once were

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5min posting a day (#63)


It is not particularly clear how they got there
the yurts on the hill

they are only very rarely seen in these parts
the climate doesn’t suit them
it is too cold when it should be hot
too wet when it should be cold

the Mongolians wouldn’t have wanted to come
here, to invade
our place

it’s not their style
even though there are plenty of paddocks
for their
steeds to graze
for their
mustangs to roam
freely when they want it so

they wouldn’t like the forests
of that we can be sure
the greenness
the lack of light
the lack of open space
it would cramp their style

but worse for them
is that they would have to sail here
and if it is not a well known fact
then it should be
mongols are not happy at sea

it’s sad
they might come to love it
if they tried
if they got to know it better

they ride their steeds to the waterline
and stop where the waves lap break
gaze fondly over the horizon
before turning their beasts to go home

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