A change in the air: haiku and things for February 2008

1/2/08:

A change in the air.
We feel rain approaching, run
welcome it from indoors.



8/2/08:

Tiny green finches
flash in and out red flowers
through my high window.

* * *

Despite the darkness
she will not close her curtains
against the fig tree.



11/2/08:

sunny noon
after the monsoon rains
an early autumn



14/2/08:


Moving Out On Valentine's Day(Happening to various friends)

1.

Last year, a pink rose.
This year he steps on a plane
heading for elsewhere.

2.

They travel all day
in separate cars packed high
apart together.



15/2/08:

The heart of the world
pulsates. Gaia is living –
my love, my first love.



22/2/08:

Warm and lazy
the rain-swollen river
glides into autumn.



29/2/08:

A small black cricket
lurks among my cosmetics
as in a city,
starving by tall containers
needing outdoors, a forest.


******


News of her death comes.
I'm calm, but my husband says
I groan in my sleep.


© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2008

Leaving the Island

For Lorenzo

Boarding the plane to Elsewhere,

you don’t always know that this

is exactly what you are doing.

Though you dreamed it all your life,

you can’t quite understand

it’s here, you are setting out now

on that particular journey. You think

you might come back.

Yet your curved Aikido sword

sleek and polished in the slim sheath

is laid inside your case,

and you have your copy of Yeats.

They are wrapped in silk and velvet

and padded round with your clothes.

In your hand luggage you carry

the Japanese Tarot deck.

You’re cleared for departure,

making a clean getaway.

Nothing is stashed in the lining,

nothing strapped to your body.

Your toothpaste, your hair gel,

your insect repellent, your juice

are all in their safe, transparent

anti-terrorist pack.

You are crossing the great water.

Ancient messages float far beneath,

forgotten, in their green bottles.

You are breaking through cloud.

Prayers on scraps of paper

are tied in the locks of your hair.

At touchdown, the destination

is not the one you expect.

© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2006

8-9/12/06

Linked (several years later!) to Poets United's Poetry Pantry #291

Ghazal of the Air Element

I introduce into our conversation
the subject of my death.

He decides to stop studying
and train as a nurse.

He asks where he can acquire
my poetry book.

His torch goes out; he gets lost
in the middle of a forest.

Walking through the bush
he blisters his toe.

Here at home I stub my toe and
burn my arm, which blisters.

Love oh love oh careless love …
all love is in this one.

My soul is crying and crying
the pain of my joy.

Oh darling, my darling
time doesn't stand still.

I sing on the wind and arrange
to meet you later.

I want that you should live
a fine life and strong.

© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007

29/1 – 13/11/07

Animal

This orchid fumes wild
in its functional pot.
The powerful stem
throbs almost visibly.
Stealthy, the opulent head
tenses with craving.

Like my quiet friend,
easing casually between
neat domestic sheets.
Slinging down savage hair
all over the prim pillow.
Flexing lavish paws.

© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 1974
from Universe Cat Pariah Press (Melb.) 1985
Also in Secret Leopard: Selected Poems 1974-2005 Alyscamps (Paris) 2005

Bloody Men!

That man – he comes in here
and dances all over my nice clean table
in his great big dirty bare feet.
He adds an unnecessary garnish
to my tasteful bowl of dahlias
pouring confetti upon their astonished heads
pelting them hard
with pellets of rolled silver paper.
(He’d just about need a silver bullet himself!)
Out of his pocket
he pulls unlimited
eggs and oranges
and one or two lit-up candles.
He juggles:
the oranges whiz round his head
till they turn into streaks
faster and faster – but the eggs!
they smash to the floor.
He refuses to mop them up with his spongey eyes.
(As for the candles,
them he swallows,
still burning.)
He strokes me all over
with his soft feelers,
tells me he loves me like love never was
and wants me like I never bin had.
Then he slopes out the door
and buzzes off blindly
accompanied by a cacophony of crackers –
leaving me walking on eggshells
very spiky
sliding and slipping in squash
and wondering what to do with my brand new coating of fur,
my uproarious red festoons.

© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 1975
5/2/75

Because He Is

Because he is fat
and lonely
because he is clever
and isolated
because he is arrogant
and insecure
because he is loveless
and visionary
because he is genius
and pioneer
because he is short-shrift
and knowing
because he is travelled
and experienced
because he is talented
and skilled
because he is sneering
and crying
because he is lost
and longing
because he is my son
and I am his mother
I am caught in
his lies forever.
Cancel that!
Change the future.
Because he is dream
and a soft heart …

© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2008

20/2/08

In the monsoon rains: haiku and things for January 2008

3/1/08:

In the monsoon rains
the river is high and fast
and rising, rising ...


11/1/08:

In my dark garden
wind chimes clang faintly, I breathe
the smell of the sea.


18/1/08:

It's still raining here.
No word from my friend far south
in the hospital.


No word from the one
who went into the desert.
The rain settles in.


25/1/08:

The river's flood-brown.
The wind is chill this summer
and sounds like sobbing.

******

When death comes ...

You should be sleeping.
Perhaps you should be alone.
But should you be young?

(A response to the news of Heath Ledger's passing.)


© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2008

Fresh quiet morning: haiku and things for December 2007

7/12/07:

Fresh quiet morning.
We breathe in deep the soft air
already heating.


14/12/07:

An overcast sky
grey with the promise of rain.
My eyelids heavy.


21/12/07:

It's a sweet story
the babe, the star, the manger.
A time for new birth.


28/12/07:

The cockatoo's crest
rises as a question mark
on his bright gold crown.

******
Flying flags lift off
from a bridge that floats on sky
over dense water.

******
A slice of their world
shows the goldfish purposeful
and filling their world.

******
Pop a strawberry
whole into my waiting glass!
My palate tingles.

******
The huddled boats
nesting under tarpaulins
waken to first light.

******
My friend's blissful face
raised to the source of the light
shines in its one ray.

******
Through mist, a rainbow
glows above green hills and fields
marking a treasure.


30/12/07:

Retreating for years
to the rooms furthest apart
each one worked alone.

Now Andrew and I
have brought our desks together
in the living room.


© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007

Late night and white noise: haiku and things for November 2007

2/11/07:

I'm hot. The creek's high.
My first swim of the season.
Ouch! Icy water.


9/11/07:

Over in Texas
my friend's dog has gone missing.
I hug my cats close.


16/11/07:

Late night and white noise
pouring from the computer
covers my loud thoughts.

I watch the World Clock
as the days keep going past.
Morning, night, morning.

From across the world
from inside a long silence
is a wolf howling?


23/11/07:

Already morning.
A night of peaceful silence
dreaming of haiku.


23/11/07

Tomorrow morning
may we wake from our long night
into bright new dawn!

(A reference to the Federal Elections in Australia. The dawn was bright!)


© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2007

Commencing the Journey to Ixtlan

I have no intention nor wish
to turn back –
though I was some way down the track
before I even realised
I had already set out.

The inexorable steps are blurred:
a series of unremarked, ordinary moments.

Calling with your pale mouth,
you have become
a phantom by the roadside.

At times you still seem real.
Then the eagerness
with which you offer me food
or point what you say is the way
reveals you to me.

You are no true guide;
I must not trust you.

The path is solitary, unfamiliar.
I don’t know where it will take me.
Lonely, I have no regrets.

Inspired partly by the writings of Carlos Castaneda, in a metaphorical way.

An old piece, as you see, about an old situation — 
newly submitted (29 May 2013) for Poets United's Verse First: The Function of Freedom

Faces in the flames: haiku and things for October 2007

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