Sunday, October 23, 2016

Michele Morgan #288 poipíní

california poppies
stop traffic
though only amber

Kit Kelen #297 - the work

the work

how a sky grows
and bright round
our great works
and blue
round truths
of love
so hail
blazing up
blessings have counted us
count on us still 


Chris Mansell quad #22 overwrought iron

Mikaela Castledine #291 Is It A Bench Or A Work?

The title of my
contemporary art dissertation
should I ever write one will be
Is It A Bench Or A Work?
of course it is possible to be both
but really what I want to know is
(with the exquisite pain that comes
from the contemplation of
the new and the now
that settles mostly in the ankles
and the knees)
can I sit on it?

Contemporary gallery Art Gallery New South Wales
Perth Institute of Contemporary Art

Bekim & Merima #5

This is a collaboration between visual artist, poet and musician Bekim Gaši and writer and performer Merima Dizdarević. There is a risk of perceiving this as a haecceity, a non-personal individuality. Take that risk.

Susan Hawthorne #296 the circus is over

we have prepared our performance
rehearsed our pitches
networked as much as possible
and fulfilled our dreams

that is the idea
but we will not know
for many months
if our dreams come true

Rob Schackne #124

Listening to Leonard Cohen, Thinking About Donald Trump

He remembers now
he joins a monastery
cries Mea Culpa!

Juan Garrido-Salgado # 22 Leyendo a César Vallejo 'Escritos de Viaje'

Leyendo a César Vallejo 'Escritos de Viaje'

verso que me da lágrimas secándose de ayer.

caígo a la frontera  como huellas pisando el infortunio

cruzo la frontera lentamente cargando un verso vallejo

lentamente voy entrando al país

cayendo desde el dolor del sur

frontera entre los montes Vallejo y Neruda;

dije que voy leyendo el idioma de la ausencia.

Reading César Vallejo's 'Travel Writings'

Verse that it gives me wiping tears of yesterday.

I fall to the border as footprints stepping misfortune

slowly crossed the border carrying a Vallejo's verse

I slowly entering to the country

falling from the south pain

border between Vallejo and Neruda mountains;

I said I'm reading the language of absence.

Saturday, October 22, 2016

Robert Verdon, #336, puberty


sucking stormwater tunnel

dry as a pocket knife

firm as an apple


under the freeway

on the other side


up to the surface


minotaur’s day off

gold dust and sunbeams

sleet in my hearth

silver buttons of white plastic

fizz like snow


skirt in a glint of mauve light

of a distinct polarity

graveyards and gardens

follow me home

at least it’s out of the wind

but the cold eats at you worse than worms

tightening loops of mortality

kept discreet as toenail fungus

embarrassing little death

disdain and longing

enough for a lifetime

single-minded as a rocket

dissolving in an abyss

hidden in the hyphae

beneath the flowering city



Dylan Jones #22 Hill at 90kmph

Sarah St Vincent Welch #282 night terror 2

machines whirr, spin wheels
stab my feet
I crawl along the ceiling
cling to the corner

Efi Hatzimanolis #230 The Slow Train from Central

A sleeping drunk,
wet and soundly,
on the slow train. Every stop will be stopped at tonight.
I marvel at the sulphur light, the storm we're riding,
the coughing laughing phoning flirting
drunken snoring through of storm and stops
all of it in the quiet carriage.

Lucy Alexander Poem # 52 Blue Snail

Here, too, the snail though blue
is mighty slow on his one thorough foot
ploughs the troughs of pebble
down sortie into night
the dark is his shade of choice
if he chooses the enormous
pedestal of his own frame

out among night’s meandering
he is flaneur of the forest,
shell at an angle to suit the

hue of his mood.

Penny Fang # 8 - the wayshower

the wayshower

I stroll down the lane besides Holg building to watch the sea
crossing over the slate wall    a petite cat’s mewing compels me to stay
the ‘angel’ like creature    a beam of amber reflects in its fluffy fur

wavers uncertainly among the light yellow buttercups    staring
has he something to say?

there are more dog lovers than cat lovers from what I see
dogs always accompany people   on the vast green
picking up a ball   catching   running    at sunrise and sunset
annoying dog’s business dropped     at the next corner of the street

its treacherous attention
before long it wanders to other places
sometime it sits, fur moving gently in the breeze
on the pier by a house
sometime it feeds from its bowl besides the black wooden door

a cat wanders across a cemetery on a rainy day
a tale and a statue

stay there forever

Lucy Alexander #51 Three Eggs

The three of them sit
slight angle-shelled
they are orbit
white as starlight
are exclaimed
by their mothers
who sang their
chant of lay
long before they
knew of enclosure
themselves hatched
from yellow sun
and water;

each one different
promise to the soil.

Lizz Murphy - # 294: Head xxxi. in a cardigan."

Media: Oil pastel & found text on paper. Size: A6.

Michele Morgan #287 ceiliúr na n-éan

the day's long shadows
give up their
riches with birdsong

Mikaela Castledine #290 Sometimes

you just can’t see 
the point of a piece of art 
and sometimes you can

Folly by Tony Davis 

Kit Kelen #296 - hopscotch


with a piece of chalk
and just the road
make castle and town
a forest reflected
or clouds of the dark

hear thunder!

look up
to look down

same as the night sky
scratch in this frame

or simply draw a door
walk down the stairs
as you think them up

aren't you the little god of it all?

no, no – you never know what's next

turn that sky over now gingerly
make sure it's a good long stick you've got
it's quite right you should be afraid
of every wonder under there

Susan Hawthorne #295 five little balls

bouncing around the fair
like juggling balls
separating and returning
in different orders
sometimes in the same place
sometimes wide apart
like the dropped ball
gone astray
finally all the balls
are in one hand

Bekim & Merima #4

This is a collaboration between visual artist, poet and musician Bekim Gaši and writer and performer Merima Dizdarević. There is a risk of perceiving this as a haecceity, a non-personal individuality. Take that risk.