foam:e
Index of poets

Jill Jones

 

David Bircumshaw
Pam Brown
Jill Chan
Jen Crawford
AnnMarie Eldon
Claire Gaskin
Jeff Harrison
Jill Jones
Mark Kanak
Christopher Kelen
Corinne Lee
Cassie Lewis
Lizz Murphy
Sheila E Murphy
Alaric Sumner
Louise Waller
Mark Young

Renga -
  Andrew Burke,
  Jen Crawford,
  Louise Waller,
  Lawrence Upton,
  Kristin Hannaford,
  Jennifer Compton,
  Heather Matthew,
  Jill Jones
  Alison Croggon

Calling sleep

You walking among the dogs
filling their bowls and ears
with quiet music, light years
brushing the planet.

You tending gutters
filled with rubber, vinyl
thick oil cupped for burning
at each steel altar
black bright road.
The perfume calls
warm blankets
mildewed cupboards
and such heavy pillows.

You seen near the trees
discussing a theory of time
with branches
asking new white blossoms
to return what they owe
insisting a place be reserved for rain.

You pouring breath
into six hundred steel wings
seraphs rising from horizons, tarmacs
a thousand winking eyes
decanted through
ground of houses.

Call wings of midnight
the song of a feather
lay it over my eyes
softer than choirs of glass, mortar
great iron plates moving
downhill.

Take the songs to the coast
throw them over
a great pacific wave
swinging wide air
above towers and mountains
chasms.

Lie beside me
lend your sympathy
to this struggle
my small white bed.


Unfold

After cloud though not sudden
blue drops down the outside

voices slip and whisper rooms
heat rasps on structures

and the colours move to green
gold talks undersides of leaves

I feel myself crouching
in a new and awkward seat

unbalanced unregained

a heavy weight of summer
hard at the windows

where is rain to separate us
from the metal force

pinned in a cold box
hidden from the heat

(in skin water blood)
while duties tick on

I glimpse the shifts in sky

I should be wasting time

 

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