Suburbia

Another lawn
Cut like a soldier’s crop
With box hedge fences

Another row
Of homeless daffodils
Frown at the sky
In the shadow of ghost gums

She lifts the blinds and sees me
See her wipe the tears
From her eyes

Another housewife
Another secret
Another day to be grateful for


Michael Koenig (South Australia)

the front

the front
thirty young
red flags
march Murray st
to shout
absent truths
beyond
the suburbs
their parents
Sunday afternoon
lawns
and polity
now the
revolutionary cadre
of weekend rallies
and glossed
hyperbole
sixty new sneakers
shuffling for
someone's freedom
standing there
I could not
help but
see it absurd
and what does it
say of
five thousand
years dispossessed
Gaza or Balga
evicted and
shot
and what does this
say of my
friends
dispossessed of
mind
stumbling half
drunk
anxious violent
boredom lust
smoking and
drinking
away our moments
together
and last
night
after the
Maori stole
from my
brother
and the cops
came to
assault the
assaulted
you could
not help
but cry
history folding
in on itself
the sadness
in all
things
oceans
between us


Raymond Grenfell (Western Australia)
First published on Raymond's blog An attempt at humanity through attempted poetry?

empires of

i dreamt
of black dogs
flying over Hiroshima
and Nagasaki
applause
and cheer for
bombs falling
like gods to earth
empires of gold
and death
memory and loss
there is no end
in silence
only the absurd


Raymond Grenfell (Western Australia)
First published on Raymond's blog An attempt at humanity through attempted poetry?

every wreck

wrought iron
carcass
of harboured regrets
lying dormant under
turgid heavy swell
holding what
could have been
without air or fear
this skeleton of
wood, bone and dream
the canvas
a death blanket
where bodies
once joined
suffocated
and perished
with the tide
every wreck a scar
on our collective skin
treasures to hoard
and forget
all those ships
you once loved
left to rot
and decay
inside


Raymond Grenfell (Western Australia)
First published on Raymond's blog An attempt at humanity through attempted poetry?

her image

I dreamt
of my daughter
holding me
with her words
as we drove
from the ocean
toward a world
that is not mine
and never
will be
I awoke
in love
her image
keeping
the room
whole
later when
the tears
came
I thought
to keep
this world
away
to let all
dreams
fall
like paper
mountains
in the sky


Raymond Grenfell (Western Australia)
First published on Raymond's blog An attempt at humanity through attempted poetry?

Thank Goodness for Small Things

The day seemed enormous!
Hours stretched and sped,
alive with activity,
      with big ideas,
      massive doubts —
a huge amount of work!

And somewhere in it
a tiny bird
tapped gently at my office window;
the smallest part of my mind noticed;
the littlest child in me observed beauty
without a critical eye.

And I Breathed.

And knew how small I was
in the Great Scheme of Things.

It was comforting.


Bernadette Brady (Western Australia)