March 2016

no-go zone no flies on him
as sleep comes the fly
between chopsticks the fly
after all eggs to lay the fly
in the food-court all are the fly
sometimes verb mostly noun the fly
his name born in flight the fly
the fly is patient with your vanity
waiting on a clock time flies
eyeing the ointment the fly
in summer wind the fly blown 
remembering Issa the fly
at prayer time the fly
six carcasses in search of a fly
breaking down the issue a fly
before and after love the fly
speeding through the flight of the bumblebee the fly
giving life to the feast the fly
a fly interrupts the music of the spheres
testing wanton boys the fly
no flies on him the fly
splatted in his own reflection the fly
the fly doesn't believe in swat
to fly or not to fly the fly
in flight announcements from the fly
the fly lays down the last words
dotting an i the fly
the fly takes joy from our sorrow
in communing on the dead the fly knows
switched to flight mode the fly's cells
the fly mops up after a drone 
'what is truth'?
a journalist kneels
in his desert

a cortege in the wake of her corsage

an embryo
vibrant in the silence
of her eyes
A Thorny Issue
is this 'rose'
in all its rose-ness?
how it pierces
into my pain?
how it spills dew
down darkening red?
its hint of breath
in its surrender?
to know this
as a rose
in my blood-beat,
is it in the means
to know it?
or is this the end of knowing
in itself?
Part I
is this 
the in-
of your yes-
Part II
with the breath 
of darkness
the word
Part III
dawn herald
the wordless prepares
its nest
Part IV
in the East
a still point escapes
its birth cry
the long wait of a falling hush
maid in silence
her eyes brighten
with a word
Part V
'fiat lux'
an empty nest blooms
full of grace
a yes word encircles the snake's hiss
luminous dawn
night's immensity 
immanent now
Part VI
a call
quiet enough
to ignore
a womb entombing silence
am o
am as
am at
am en
Part VII
in pure water
a word incarnadine
by lamp light
the all fleshing out
its path 
the sound of
a word barely conceived
utter sense of being
enunciating a 'yes'
bone by bone
Part IX
at this hour
when the word is yet
to be uttered, its breath
barely a whisper
when brooding wings 
overshadow you
with a stillness, far beyond 
any possible eavesdropping
when your waiting 
rises to it,
its mystery
when, for all time,
all waiting
comes down
to this:
a sublime silence
putting its roots down
into the earth of you
a cloud
of unknowing, now,
so irreversibly
your flesh
Part X
spring awakening
a hyacinth overflows
night's immensity
A Way with Roses 

eyes arise in bead chant dawn
so long a decadence counting down
rain drops beading on mystery
my head  space   stretches    wider     between      each
in darkness voices trailing off the decades
now and 
at the hour 
of our hour
our other son dead
from birth
nightly tryst
we explore the spaces
in each other
our voices shell-borne doxology of the sea
in darkness fingering mystery
autumn noon
the present warms
to me
Lenten fast
I dwelt on nothing
while light changed
a rebel 
made godless I deify
my self

training wheels for the inso(mno)lence of being

the blueness
of a colourless sky
it was legendary
deep valley
forest trees today
sound of the sea

a cicada filling out its isness

ever-static music
of the spheres
with autumn ripeness
a redness quickens the sky
from its lethargy
turning leaf
the consistency
of departures

earth the consistency of departures

an old oak
turns in its own way
I in mine
by autumn light
the this and that of nows –
it all makes sense
falling cadence –
the silences a cicada
lets slip through
after love
we are the music
we were
in a selfie
me no more
autumn issue . . . 
haiku guardians 
litter pathways
stormy sea –
brooding over Sado
the milky way
reinterpreting a hokku by Basho
maris turbati –
quiescet super Sado
via lactea
reinterpreting a hokku by Basho
dark room 
the image of a leaf
as it fell
nowhere to go
the colour of forgetting
in the light
from which light casts
a mere shadow
for Svetlana Marisova (17 March - on what would have been her 26th birthday)
a shadow seeps
from a stream in the trees 
the silence of God
for Franz Wright (18 March - on the birthday he didn't see)
breaking even
the equinox splits
our differences
holy fire,
burn away the seeming
of dream-rise
so soon
the earth blooms
dead leaves
a song
in the making
of its silence
autumn leaves
not now but then
when winter comes
without a breath
dead words
a phantom dwelling
under the basho
nothing more
the ever-presence
death evades
trumpet rally
evangelicals summon
their golden calf
tapping still
against my eye-lids
cave-red palms
breath pause . . .
a moment's suspension
in monotones
autumn rain . . .
I write myself out
of my haiku

a race memory relaxes into its present tense

morning light
a good day to die
to oneself

there where i am no longer

autumn morn . . .
a monarch rises up
its gibbet
after the fall
fifty shades
of pink
autumn rise . . .
rustles of the past
in the wind
wine-dark eyes . . .
across a drunken sea
purpling grapes
t(w)ittering behind
fanned fingers
on cue
a line-up
of falling leaves
a leaf
alert at last
in autumn rain
all in all
an ocean washes up
in birth cries
left behind
a prophetic utterance
of its ending
step by step
we continue on

a dream I make of the just now

now and then
I become the wake 
I leave behind
all at sea
a wine drop dark
to its soul
until her smile
just a universe
on edge
my pen tip at odds
with my words
autumn light
mountains solidify
into view
Lent deepens –
will stones stave off
this hunger?
Lenten light –
I see by it now 
what I am not
the breakdown
of platitudes
by daylight
by starlight
the quintessential
dawns in sleep
are those
cicada's singing
swan songs?
on the horizon 
colour folds into 
foggy cape
an albatross broods
the cliffs

where tribes clashed wails wind through the blood

in darkness
birds trill towards
what's still to come


a moth enters my waiting



while still new
on the compost heap
rot sets in
at its end
the beginning
of the end
at long last
where the buck stops
mountain spring
moonless night
the centre everywhere
without relief
earth the consistency of departures
locked away
the sparkle in the eye
of an ancestor's image
all at sea
an old salt defies
the stars
until her smile
just a universe
fear of what?
this manic extinction
of darkness
in waves
the ocean cupped 
in her hands
on edge
my pen tip at odds
with my words
hear the hiss
underpin my choice
of words