Friday, December 19, 2008

almost Christmas
the drunks are singing
hallelujah

Monday, December 08, 2008

The Australian Haiku Society, HaikuOz, are attempting to define haiku in less than 40 words, and they were kind enough to include my go at it here.

Friday, November 14, 2008

framed
in a lighted window -
the violin player

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

long night’s end -
a line of blue
below the cloud

Monday, October 20, 2008


voices
from years past
soften
the sharp edges
of another day's news

Sunday, October 19, 2008

under a clear sky
October leaves and housebricks -
the election news

Friday, October 10, 2008

evening news -
a wagtail on the ridge
of the roof

Thursday, October 09, 2008

Friday, October 03, 2008

This weekend I will be in Bath.
heads bent
in suburban drizzle -
allotment sunflowers
morning stillness
the absence
of gulls

Thursday, October 02, 2008

let no one
crash in through
the cardboard walls
or loudly start to read
another's part
this paper that we pass
from hand to hand
has promises upon it
that thou art

Monday, September 29, 2008

on the phone
he says 'but I hate talking
on the phone'

Monday, September 22, 2008

last day of summer -
a young rat explores
the rose garden

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Charing Cross
a pigeon coming in to land
goes round again
white birds
on the water's surface -
sewage works

Friday, September 12, 2008



Tomorrow I'm going to the launch of this rather special new book.

Saturday, September 06, 2008

traces

that black and white picture
with a torn corner
that scratchy recording
with a catch in the voice
she didn't leave -
he didn't leave -
anything
except for this
torrential rain
on the poet going through
a dry spell

Thursday, August 21, 2008

bitter herbs -
music playing in the
darkened kitchen

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

wondering how
to throw it away -
rubbish bin
the glint
of cafe chairs -
morning after rain

Thursday, August 07, 2008

speaking
of his identity -
the actor

interval -
a theatrical gesture
from the audience

re-constructing
the re-construction -
stage hands

Tuesday, August 05, 2008

haiku talk -
the orange juice comes with
or without bits

Saturday, August 02, 2008

pub sign -
the setting sun picks out
the gold

Thursday, July 31, 2008

summer night
waiting for the storm
that doesn't come

Monday, July 28, 2008

closing time -
all the pub windows open
to the summer storm
the flicker
of a cigarette lighter -
summer storm
before the storm
a bird fights the wind
for height

Monday, July 21, 2008

a boy with one shoe
in his hand kicks something
down the road

Saturday, July 12, 2008

the pauses
in her side
of the argument
we pass through Sheffield
under a steely sky

Tuesday, July 01, 2008

a day of powerpoint -
chicks beg until the parent gull
regurgitates

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Day return - (a haibunnish thing)

On the early train, regular travellers prop their season tickets on their bags and snooze.

looking up
from her book -
poppy fields

I side step my way from station to conference room around head-down commuters, charity collectors, paper vendors and tourists studying maps, apologising to someone who emerges from the crowd to ask the way. 'I'm sorry, I'm a bit lost too!' A whirl of words and then it's all replayed, but in reverse.

the slope
of his shoulders -
mile after mile

Slowing down before the final stop, there is a hurried announcement from the guard. I'm sure he just said, 'Will passengers please ensure they take all of their personal longings with them.'

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

breath of wind -
the shadow of a gull
across the 7th floor

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

evening calm before
the squabbling of magpies
and after

Sunday, June 15, 2008

wedding party
the cries of gull chicks
from a nearby roof

Friday, May 23, 2008

another day -
he wipes down the cars
on the merry-go-round

Thursday, May 22, 2008

a window open somewhere the sound of bells

Monday, May 19, 2008

motorcycle park
the poppy petals swaying
on their stems

Friday, May 16, 2008

Masks

In a moment of madness
I thought to ask if we could
take off these masks.
I know that I was wrong
to ask it of you but
I wonder
- if we turned aside with eyes closed, and acted swiftly -
could we exchange them?

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

at 50
much to my surprise
my muse
takes on a definitely
human shape

Saturday, April 26, 2008

steel band -
evening sunlight
on the water

Thursday, April 24, 2008

brown fields
half greened
with new shoots

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

my point of view -
all sharp angles
and corners

Thursday, April 17, 2008

talk of rights
and responsibilities -
wind in the trees

Saturday, April 12, 2008

dear muse
even in the dark hours
the bird
you awakened
is still singing
slowly
bursting
open -
reddish-orange tulips



noon -
sunshine on both sides
of the wall





[The 13th century wall between my street and the 21st century shopping mall!]

Monday, April 07, 2008

something's missing
but maybe I will find it
even yet
spring sunlight
on old stones

Sunday, April 06, 2008

roofscape
the oblique angles
of the snow

Saturday, April 05, 2008

between the building
and the scaffolding
a spider's thread

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

guzmania pup -
morning sun illuminates
the leaves

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Inspiration

Someone walking
quite confidently
down the street
suddenly turns
and walks
quite confidently
the other way

Friday, February 15, 2008

A fine science : an exact art


It began as a meeting of minds

as rarified as any scientific discourse.


We spoke of the movement of bodies

constructed elaborate models

of their various trajectories

and projected forecasts

of their collision.


That was when we made

our first discovery -

an unexpected rise in temperature

a gentle pulse that could be traced

only with the most sensitive

of instruments.


Drawn to its source we found

it emanated from the very heart of things

and we named it for the essence -

but we spoke too soon.


When we drew in breath

and stopped for a long moment to listen

a calm and quiet voice

was singing of wonders.


Saturday, February 09, 2008

sliver of moon -
my neighbour's voice
but not his words

Saturday, February 02, 2008

winter night -
a friend's words linger on
after he's gone

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

adjacent roofs
crows heads tilted
the same way

Monday, January 14, 2008

Just because they deserve a wider audience...



...not that they'll get it here! The Penguin Cafe Orchestra.

Monday, January 07, 2008

winter wind
he stops to look up
between clouds