I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world,
to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

Some of these poems are autobiographical, some are entirely fictional, and some are a mixture of both. The intention is art rather than self-expression. I don't allow factual details to get in the way of poetry! (I do seek emotional truth.) They are works in progress, and may be subject to revision without notice. Completed versions appear in my books. Nevertheless copyright applies to all texts found here. Copyright also applies to almost all photos posted here, most of which are my own, though a few are licensed under Creative Commons.
Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

2 August 2010

The cloud's silver edge: lunes (and haiku) for July 2010

The cloud’s silver edge
turns to gold.
My old man gets well.


On phototgraph : Gyorgy Kepes ("Juliet's Shadow Caged," 1939)
courtesy of Joel Soroka Gallery

My shadow looks in
yet forward
I face out, gaze back.

Opposites, we’re tied
and mirrored.
See: we are both caged.


the black snow
from the cane fires begins
marking the season

across the road
two black birds flap slowly
this bleak day


I hear my cat snore
and pretend
my man’s home in bed


Helping him undress:
‘You great big beautiful doll!’
making him laugh.


The rain-washed street
shines in early morning light.
The slightest breeze....


Response to a haiku about koi

Pretty things the koi —
in northern ponds and rivers.
Here we carp at them!

For one man's meat fish is
another's introduced pest:
dangerous beauty.


Spring blows hot and cold
enfolding, piercing....


'Smoke gets in your eyes'
he sang on the old record.
My Mum sang along.



  1. Dear One,

    These are, as Stevie Smith would say, "Pretty, pretty, pretty." There's a happy-kind-of-sad feeling as I read them. Your beloved is well? I hope so. My mum and dad's song was "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes," which is kind of ironic and kind of spot on, given all their givens. Anyway, we lost him last year and she's been having a pretty rough time, but is slowly getting through it. I hope all is well with you. Thank you for these sensitive and lovely poems. I'm so glad I'm so glad to meet you. Peace and all good,


  2. Thank you Diane. My husband came near death but is now well recovered, I'm thankful to say. I had a small taste of what your mother must be going through, and feel for her.