he wants her in the
morning
before the bird chorus
and the idea of daily news
breath like silk
cheeks flushed
body warm from the river of
dreams running through
her
he wants her in the
river
hair spooling out in rings
wild bracken water
nuzzling her skin
mossed wet rocks she climbs
to dry off
he wants her on the
rock
flesh open to the sun
skin turning in the
golden light
eyes closed and flickering
remembering her dreams
Kathryn Lyster (Australia)
An independent poetry journal. Watch your step.
Showing posts with label Australia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Australia. Show all posts
2017/09/14
2015/07/19
Old Song
finally, the child is asleep.
the evening sky itself is almost white with fatigue.
it’s so warm that nobody’s out,
and soon i will gaze
over the quiet city streets.
where is the woman
to taste my skin?
perhaps i know her already,
or maybe she is as distant as winter.
well, every bird sings first for itself.
Matt Hetherington (Australia)
the evening sky itself is almost white with fatigue.
it’s so warm that nobody’s out,
and soon i will gaze
over the quiet city streets.
where is the woman
to taste my skin?
perhaps i know her already,
or maybe she is as distant as winter.
well, every bird sings first for itself.
Matt Hetherington (Australia)
Parable
all the silken night
i lay in my warm bed,
and like a god
i made my little movies,
some even with the most perfect
music.
everything i wished for, i had.
and now a cold new morning is banging on the door.
Matt Hetherington (Australia)
i lay in my warm bed,
and like a god
i made my little movies,
some even with the most perfect
music.
everything i wished for, i had.
and now a cold new morning is banging on the door.
Matt Hetherington (Australia)
Morning, Partly Cloudy
every day waking is as slow as dawn
and questions hurt like the word ‘touch’
spread the honey evenly over the toast
the light is thin like an old man’s skin
and even my eyes are turning grey
every day waking is as slow as dawn
some of our romances end in rainbows
we are but a membrane
spread the honey evenly over the toast
i wrap my arms around myself
the comfort of this sole nocturnal sun
every day waking is as slow as dawn
attempting to recall all the things to forget
chatting in the face of the ravenous millions
spread the honey evenly over the toast
you’ll never see beyond your mirror
when the darkness makes you close your eyes
every day waking is as slow as dawn
spread the honey evenly over the toast
Matt Hetherington (Australia)
and questions hurt like the word ‘touch’
spread the honey evenly over the toast
the light is thin like an old man’s skin
and even my eyes are turning grey
every day waking is as slow as dawn
some of our romances end in rainbows
we are but a membrane
spread the honey evenly over the toast
i wrap my arms around myself
the comfort of this sole nocturnal sun
every day waking is as slow as dawn
attempting to recall all the things to forget
chatting in the face of the ravenous millions
spread the honey evenly over the toast
you’ll never see beyond your mirror
when the darkness makes you close your eyes
every day waking is as slow as dawn
spread the honey evenly over the toast
Matt Hetherington (Australia)
Post-partum
(for Brett)
the baby breathes easily
the air in the glass box
he wants both nipples at once
but must come to rest with rubber
his brother also shares a little
in this taste of near-containment
somehow their mother has managed
to save them both for life
Matt Hetherington (Australia)
the baby breathes easily
the air in the glass box
he wants both nipples at once
but must come to rest with rubber
his brother also shares a little
in this taste of near-containment
somehow their mother has managed
to save them both for life
Matt Hetherington (Australia)
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