Category Archives: Poetry

Fine Rain

Another 5am start. B. to NYC. Fine rain (fine, rain) sets in I light a candle, tobacco-scented, blow it out The wisteria in bloom looks like a round of applause Pick a year and invite the Then Me, ask me … Continue reading

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usually in autumn

Days – usually in autumn, when the sun appears and disappears. And reappears between defective clouds, window-level, lighthousing to the shrill click-track of that reversing thing behind the trees – like these are my absolute worst; reminding me of when I was a … Continue reading

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In Hong Kong is Celadon

National Poetry Day, it is. I thought I’d give air, finally, to a thing I wrote a quarter of a century ago (me, now tamping tobacco into my pipe). March 1991 to be precise. Enough that the piece has stayed with … Continue reading

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A Short Rhyme for Missed Rain

The egg cartons, milk bottles, were dry. And they were delivered at five. So the rain must have happened Sometime before then. When we were asleep. But alive.

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North Song

Churches the colour of rye bread Those very verdigrised roofs Take me to a sea With its quiet hyphens of cargo To live with my back to the world

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roses, rain

raining from the trees on the stone steps, sulkily roses, lopsided  

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If I Paint Myself into a Corner

… which was the way I chose to go for the final poem for the Writer’s Digest April PAD  gig this year. A Dead-End theme, see. Actually what I’ve done here is wiggle the words a little from those on … Continue reading

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