Monday, February 13, 2012

It's February

10. Flange

As if there is an edge
the poem appears
jutting from another
blog, another era.

Something to cling to
like a window ledge
on the tenth floor.
Like a forgotten door.

11. Flashiest

It's not enough to label it flashy.
Of extreme brilliance it lights up night
a ground-level comet shining with painted flames.
Its very speed announces:
"driver wishing to make a mark - aren't you
impressed?" I stick to the speed limit
overtaken but not with admiration.

12. Fleece

He stands, dog-tired -
a dog with a tumour.
Outliving vet's prediction
he lingers near us
stretches out on carpet
square or tile to rest.
The fleece awaits
his television hours, prime
position on the sofa,
prime time for an old dog.

13. Flitted

It's fitting that boughs
made for sitting
also encourage flitting

They're fleeting, these
rapid-fire meetings
and twittery greetings.

All relative: to a gnat
birds are slow, and fat.
Not so to a wombat.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

It's February!


Three pairs of shoes
for ten dollars!! That
can't be true

yet there they are
adorning her feet
little breast-cancer-pink
pumps, yellow platforms,
thin-soled sandshoes.

Will they last the weekend?
How much? Ten dollars?

It's February!


In the competition
for management
of my yard's resources

elimination heats cause
the exile of blue wren,
thrush, warbler.

Here come the sparrow
tribe, latecomers. Pigeon
and blackbird flee


Tuesday, February 7, 2012

It's February


The movie I make of my life rolls on
without credits without a script.

Daily I edit what happened
my brain somersaulting
through new predictions.

I have come from birth
straight into the middle.
I smile at the camera.

At my funeral, will they
say I deserve "Best Actress"?

It's February!


Even without a
capital letter, these
are peculiar
to England.

Here a bog or marsh
is drained to farm, or
retained, made acceptable
as 'wetlands'.

And what we call it
the birds do care about.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

It's February!


It's the unpleasant sound
your system emits, or lips
use to attempt control.

Then there's the element
of performance, the good
or the bad taken apart.

Alternatively, it names
the way sea birds bring
sustenance to young.

It's February!


He slows down
has troubledrawing
enough breath
the tail wags
it used to spin
his eyes dull
with a vision of
inevitable future.
Still, he greets me
at the front door.

Friday, February 3, 2012

It's February!


Like fireworks going off
they rise one at a time
flash the tail while flying
fold it neatly on the branch
a fleet a formation
of pigeons.
Daily performance on
the brick patio.
Wrens and wagtail - soloists
your breath quickens for.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

It's February!

Here's my challenge: post a poem here on my prompt which will begin with F every day in February. Your only limit is 10 lines. The words were selected by the classic shut-eye-random-finger method. And instant first draft is preferable.This is writing practice not perfect presentation.

I'll have to do 2 here to catch up with myself.

1. Faction

Within the world of poets
there are strongholds, yes,
and smaller groups with
points of view, styles and
rhetoric which enriches.

Even on my shelves
there is the 1980's Aussie
faction, Melbourne scene
to be precise, and women's
writing magazines.

2. Fainting

There's nothing deceitful
about this kind of faint - it's got
more to do with strength of paint.

I would prefer the fencer's feint
that double entendre of point
which actually demonstrates great restraint.

Smelling salts, corsets,
and hot days - complaint
now viewed as ridiculous constraint.

OK - over to you if you dare.