Hunger Lounge: from 30/30 2019

in tame, cemented days like these ensconced in automated ease ah, what a gift again to see hunger, lounging in a tree all tawny bright, not quite replete yet not so fraught as seeking meat would make this golden beast ah, what a gift of joy to dream of your, instead of siren’s scream your…

There is an Onion by the Stove

There is an onion by the stove brown-papered, seeming unconcerned smug, really, if you come to think of its audacious round bum at rest   Audacious, to just sit there, by the stove so near the fire, so nonchalant and calm Ha – is there anything more patient? or more self-centred than an onion?  …

Animate

you get to an age where you take up your space sink animal roots into animate places, move by instinct and discipline you choose, what to honour what to remember, what unravels in the wake you hold fast where you take up your space you choose the colours, mindful time shades and tints strike the…

Ways We Save the World

  1 mangroves cradling coasts anew, hurricanes to cry safely in their arms 2 black pines in Miyagi, standing sentinel along Tohoku shore, braced against tsunami roar 3 Wangari Maathai, her hands, mind, life to the task, spreading green over African sands 4 Elion in the Kubuqi, planting a Great Green Wall against barbaric sands…

Day 12: Dull Thing

Day 12, our task is to write a poem addressing something dull, or mundane. Sure. Dull Thing dull thing: I could speak here of a knife worn thin it is its metal, atom by atom, infused into all who have shared my kitchen binding us. but a knife is a tool, best kept sharp; or…

Call and Response:O Open Heart

How To Hold You Now there is no way, actually to repay uncounted courage there is no way to say what lines the heart there are no swans no thrumming wings write the sky full that road carries no sign Overboard Li Po had no truck with suffering for art they say, when he fell…

On the Topic of Fishing*

Miss Manners is strangely quiet on the topic of fishing; she sits in meditation on the point where necessity goes to the highest bidder. All Life is sacred, her granny taught; so the fish is sacred as is the worm, as is her own belly, engine house of her soul. How to honour all this?…

Day 11: Future

inner child, sit down listen to the elder we want to become: a body made strong movement by movement through years of conscious worship of this miracle temple loaned to our soul a mind ever bolder movement by movement freer to fly as compelled by songs who want to be born humming at the door…

The Ballad of Banaabekwe and Her Gulls

What diplomacy today can bring to the rescue mice fit to chew through plastic nooses carelessly left to wind around the bleeding necks and throats of sea elephants? You don’t hear that fable, now, do you? – Don Perkins 1. Banaabekwe, at her loom of seagrass slowly, in dappled morning sun, weaves stories for her…