5/10/07:
Faces in the flames
rising as the smoke rises.
Visions, memories …
12/10/07:
October gets loud.
Earth movers outside all day,
and nights of thunder.
14/10/07:
The earth our mother
will survive us delinquents,
but will we survive?
18/10/07:
In the quiet night
the lights and the fading drone
of one car passing.
26/10/07:
Here, clouds and lightning,
the gush of baptismal rain
sudden, swift and soft.
From across the world
mountains of fast-moving flame
shock our TV screens.
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007
31 October 2007
30 September 2007
A cold rainy day: haiku and things for September 2007
6/9/07:
A cold rainy day.
Darting across the wet road
one sudden swallow.
******
Furled umbrellas
gathered in a basket –
unopened blossoms.
13/9/07:
I begin to write
his elegy, the husband
dead these thirteen years.
***
Suddenly it's warm.
The season rouses at last,
comes fully awake.
***
For my god-daughter Mikaela
You have turned sixteen.
That laughing baby I held
had these same bright eyes.
21/9/07:
The river sparkles
smooth and glassy, undisturbed.
No swimmers. But soon ...
28/9/07:
Listen to the wind!
How it sobs in the white waves
and sighs in the trees.
29/9/07:
The beach at nightfall.
Out there, whales play hide-and-seek,
flipping their high tails.
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007
A cold rainy day.
Darting across the wet road
one sudden swallow.
******
Furled umbrellas
gathered in a basket –
unopened blossoms.
13/9/07:
I begin to write
his elegy, the husband
dead these thirteen years.
***
Suddenly it's warm.
The season rouses at last,
comes fully awake.
***
For my god-daughter Mikaela
You have turned sixteen.
That laughing baby I held
had these same bright eyes.
21/9/07:
The river sparkles
smooth and glassy, undisturbed.
No swimmers. But soon ...
28/9/07:
Listen to the wind!
How it sobs in the white waves
and sighs in the trees.
29/9/07:
The beach at nightfall.
Out there, whales play hide-and-seek,
flipping their high tails.
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007
31 August 2007
Coughing my heart out: haiku and things for August 2007
3/8/07:
Coughing my heart out
as they say in the clichés.
Haiku can't happen.
(Except of course from
you, who still have, I trust, both
heart and poetry.)
10/8/07:
Chill nights and warm days.
Oh Spring you are a teaser
blowing hot and cold.
17/8/07:
I turn off the light.
Curling against the cushions,
cats and man sleep deep.
19/8/07:
Peru Haiku
I would go back there
to Peru of the earthquakes
while the Andes stand.
The buried Inca
begin to stir in their graves.
The mountains rumble.
Far from the rubble
of shattered city buildings
soars the great condor.
24/8/07:
Waves gun-metal grey
and the clouds sitting heavy.
A cramped horizon.
***
Cosmo has gone but
for me his imprint lingers
all over Kingscliff.
31/8/07:
After the eclipse
the moon seemed brighter, cleaner.
I lifted wide arms.
***
At night we hear it,
the hushed rumble of the surf
pouring and pouring.
***
I watched the eclipse.
Later that night a message
that old friends had died.
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007
Coughing my heart out
as they say in the clichés.
Haiku can't happen.
(Except of course from
you, who still have, I trust, both
heart and poetry.)
10/8/07:
Chill nights and warm days.
Oh Spring you are a teaser
blowing hot and cold.
17/8/07:
I turn off the light.
Curling against the cushions,
cats and man sleep deep.
19/8/07:
Peru Haiku
I would go back there
to Peru of the earthquakes
while the Andes stand.
The buried Inca
begin to stir in their graves.
The mountains rumble.
Far from the rubble
of shattered city buildings
soars the great condor.
24/8/07:
Waves gun-metal grey
and the clouds sitting heavy.
A cramped horizon.
***
Cosmo has gone but
for me his imprint lingers
all over Kingscliff.
31/8/07:
After the eclipse
the moon seemed brighter, cleaner.
I lifted wide arms.
***
At night we hear it,
the hushed rumble of the surf
pouring and pouring.
***
I watched the eclipse.
Later that night a message
that old friends had died.
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007
31 July 2007
Briefly as if from nowhere: haiku and things for July 2007
6/7/07:
Morning is coming.
Rain on the roof gets louder.
I hide from the dark.
13/7/07:
Morning is blank
in the cold winter sunshine
of an empty sky.
20/7/07:
The birds chirp loudly
but for you who are absent
they remain silent.
***
Without your body
warm in the bed beside me
I sleep like the dead.
27/7/07:
On a busy road
briefly as if from nowhere
the scent of almonds.
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007
Morning is coming.
Rain on the roof gets louder.
I hide from the dark.
13/7/07:
Morning is blank
in the cold winter sunshine
of an empty sky.
20/7/07:
The birds chirp loudly
but for you who are absent
they remain silent.
***
Without your body
warm in the bed beside me
I sleep like the dead.
27/7/07:
On a busy road
briefly as if from nowhere
the scent of almonds.
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007
30 June 2007
Warm winter: haiku and things for June 2007
1/6/07:
Such a warm winter!
I can't help feeling glad – though
the country's still dry.
8/6/07:
I come to bed late.
Both the cats stir and greet me.
The man doesn't wake.
11/6/07:
It's June eleven.
Four decades ago we wed.
Now you are a ghost.
21/6/07:
Midwinter.
Tonight the moon will be
exactly half full.
28/6/07:
Oh! sudden swallows
deceived by warm winter
quickening the air.
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007
Such a warm winter!
I can't help feeling glad – though
the country's still dry.
8/6/07:
I come to bed late.
Both the cats stir and greet me.
The man doesn't wake.
11/6/07:
It's June eleven.
Four decades ago we wed.
Now you are a ghost.
21/6/07:
Midwinter.
Tonight the moon will be
exactly half full.
28/6/07:
Oh! sudden swallows
deceived by warm winter
quickening the air.
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007
31 May 2007
Red leaves and a small green frog: haiku and things for May 2007
4/5/07:
Clinging to this tree,
red leaves and a small green frog
make me weep. But why?
12/5/07:
In this warm autumn
the wattles are flowering
as if it were spring!
15/5/07:
In the photo ...
Sudden spring blossoms
encrust the branches thickly,
each bloom delicate.
The cat is watching
from behind glass, ducks resting
unaware, serene.
18/5/07:
It's raining again
all over the drought country.
It sinks in. We weep.
24/5/07:
These warm autumn days
deceive the senses until
sunset, 5 p.m.
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007
Clinging to this tree,
red leaves and a small green frog
make me weep. But why?
12/5/07:
In this warm autumn
the wattles are flowering
as if it were spring!
15/5/07:
In the photo ...
Sudden spring blossoms
encrust the branches thickly,
each bloom delicate.
The cat is watching
from behind glass, ducks resting
unaware, serene.
18/5/07:
It's raining again
all over the drought country.
It sinks in. We weep.
24/5/07:
These warm autumn days
deceive the senses until
sunset, 5 p.m.
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007
30 April 2007
Darkness coming down: haiku and things for April 2007
6/4/07:
Darkness coming down.
A child on a footpath running
just ahead of night.
13/4/07:
Request
A flood of haiku
to carry me away from
our drought-stricken land.
20/4/07:
April morning.
Two pink flowers
half concealed by weeds.
***
April clouds
form the shape of a dragon
thinner than vapour trails.
***
We wake to loud knocks.
Three young schoolboys
beg to wash our car.
26/4/07:
All summer we swam.
The creek looks very flat now.
Weeds grow in the mud.
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007
Darkness coming down.
A child on a footpath running
just ahead of night.
13/4/07:
Request
A flood of haiku
to carry me away from
our drought-stricken land.
20/4/07:
April morning.
Two pink flowers
half concealed by weeds.
***
April clouds
form the shape of a dragon
thinner than vapour trails.
***
We wake to loud knocks.
Three young schoolboys
beg to wash our car.
26/4/07:
All summer we swam.
The creek looks very flat now.
Weeds grow in the mud.
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007
31 March 2007
Look! Leopard colours: haiku and things for March 2007
2/3/07:
Look! Leopard colours
in the creek, floating, drowning,
the first fallen leaf.
3/3/07:
It is just starting
to be Friday in Texas.
It's warm and windy.
Here, it's a hot night.
The breeze is light, with an edge.
Lads go past, yelling.
I think of Austin,
April Austin with poems
yelled on wild warm nights.
9/3/07:
I'm late here tonight
to swim my autumn river.
The breeze has a chill.
The tide runs out fast.
The rowboat up yonder slows.
I make for the shore.
12/3/07:
Observation
Friday came and went.
Many refrained from haiku
as the season changed.
16/3/07:
The nights grow cooler.
The street shuts its doors early
and draws the curtains.
20/3/07:
Winter is coming.
Then I can wear my SWAT boots
I got in Texas.
21/3/07:
An outgoing tide
takes us gently, suddenly
beyond our limits.
28/3/07:
Blustery day here.
We head south: even colder.
Swimming's over now.
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007
Look! Leopard colours
in the creek, floating, drowning,
the first fallen leaf.
3/3/07:
It is just starting
to be Friday in Texas.
It's warm and windy.
Here, it's a hot night.
The breeze is light, with an edge.
Lads go past, yelling.
I think of Austin,
April Austin with poems
yelled on wild warm nights.
9/3/07:
I'm late here tonight
to swim my autumn river.
The breeze has a chill.
The tide runs out fast.
The rowboat up yonder slows.
I make for the shore.
12/3/07:
Observation
Friday came and went.
Many refrained from haiku
as the season changed.
16/3/07:
The nights grow cooler.
The street shuts its doors early
and draws the curtains.
20/3/07:
Winter is coming.
Then I can wear my SWAT boots
I got in Texas.
21/3/07:
An outgoing tide
takes us gently, suddenly
beyond our limits.
28/3/07:
Blustery day here.
We head south: even colder.
Swimming's over now.
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007
28 February 2007
February clouds: haiku and things for February 2007
2/2/07:
The view from Dawn's diningroom
Meadows green and gold
lead my gaze past the farmhouse
to vast rolling cloud.
9/2/07:
Wide as a river
my salty green tidal creek
jumping with fish.
***
Water aerobics.
All alone I dance for joy.
Pelican beaks clap.
10/2/07:
Flung into my mind
this thought of yours starts ripples
that keep widening.
14/2/07:
I don't send, this day,
a big red Valentine heart.
Love you all the days....
***
He sends me a rose
and promises love always.
All day I'm singing.
23/2/07:
February clouds.
White orchids tinged with purple
wait for the rain.
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007
The view from Dawn's diningroom
Meadows green and gold
lead my gaze past the farmhouse
to vast rolling cloud.
9/2/07:
Wide as a river
my salty green tidal creek
jumping with fish.
***
Water aerobics.
All alone I dance for joy.
Pelican beaks clap.
10/2/07:
Flung into my mind
this thought of yours starts ripples
that keep widening.
14/2/07:
I don't send, this day,
a big red Valentine heart.
Love you all the days....
***
He sends me a rose
and promises love always.
All day I'm singing.
23/2/07:
February clouds.
White orchids tinged with purple
wait for the rain.
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007
31 January 2007
January rain: haiku and things for January 2007
5/1/07:
January rain.
Your face looking back at me.
The warmth in your eyes.
12/1/07:
She holds the infant,
its head soft against her cheek,
inhaling skin, hair.
***
The photo
While you are gone, missing your voice
I turn often to your speaking face.
14/1/07:
My dead friend. And you,
the living friend so like him.
My soul is twice blessed.
***
The view from Down Under
America wakes
and comes online, we can tell.
MySpace gets clunky.
12/1/07:
The tidal river.
A black arrow strikes the shore:
sudden cormorant.
19/1/07
My mind has blanked out.
It's the heat. It gets to me.
My brain is melting.
26/1/07
Goddess Exhibition, Art Gallery of NSW
As we wait in line
Krishna embraces Radha
and music begins.
Green Tara
Smiling serenely
she makes a gesture of giving,
dangling one gilt leg.
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007
January rain.
Your face looking back at me.
The warmth in your eyes.
12/1/07:
She holds the infant,
its head soft against her cheek,
inhaling skin, hair.
***
The photo
While you are gone, missing your voice
I turn often to your speaking face.
14/1/07:
My dead friend. And you,
the living friend so like him.
My soul is twice blessed.
***
The view from Down Under
America wakes
and comes online, we can tell.
MySpace gets clunky.
12/1/07:
The tidal river.
A black arrow strikes the shore:
sudden cormorant.
19/1/07
My mind has blanked out.
It's the heat. It gets to me.
My brain is melting.
26/1/07
Goddess Exhibition, Art Gallery of NSW
As we wait in line
Krishna embraces Radha
and music begins.
Green Tara
Smiling serenely
she makes a gesture of giving,
dangling one gilt leg.
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007
11 July 2006
Tracks
For Connie
I walk the beach
in our winter sun,
gathering stones and shells.
The heavy lace-up boots
I bought in Lamesa, Texas,
leave distinctive tracks.
***
We stood on a small rise
at the edge of Indian land.
‘This is my ocean,’ she said.
I gazed at acres of prairie,
waves of rolling scrub,
an endless, hypnotic horizon.
Heat lay like a cape
on my shoulders.
The wide, flat roadway
shifted and bled.
An older landscape rose
through structures
of present time.
I knew the curve of its earth,
I knew the shape of its light.
***
I walk the winter beach
tracking my footprints back
to find the place I entered,
a pathway through the scrub.
A man
stands in the shallows
fishing
the outgoing tide.
The breeze freshens.
Submitted for dVerse Entwin(n)ed Poetics June 2013
I met Connie in Lamesa, Texas, in April 2006 when I was a guest in her home, a featured reader at the annual Forrest Fest arts festival (behind which she is the driving force) and we also celebrated Beltane together. Put in touch by a mutual friend, we recognised each other at once as soul twins, and still keep in touch.
And here is her twin poem for me! —
Without Time
for Rosemary
I gather
tears in my eyes
Remembering
heat waves rising
On the
distant prairie edge as together
We survey
the blue and ridged rim of sandstone cliffs
Bearing the
scarred bones of Apache warriors
We miss the
lone buffalo that roams
There, the
golden eagle I hoped would
Re-appear
for my visitor from down under,
The cliche
road juggles us back through shinery
Past red
and black Indian blankets, yellow sunflowers
A budding
Ycca tall and slender sprouting from the earth
To
un-posted property from the
Trespass we
have entered, a place
Where time
stands still and the moment becomes
Buried
treasure in the badlands.
My
Australian friend blends into the
Landscape,
a desert Rose . .
Soon we
will return to our respective realities
We are
distant, separate in our bodies
Hemispheres
attempt to separate our souls,
Yet and
still, the spirit transcends the borders
Her ocean waves bump against my prairie sand dunes
We
are one under the moon
Connie
Williams
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