Off the Cuff 15: Deadline & A lifetime of being in & out of love for Melbourne Ch 3

APAD 15     prompt: a deadline poem

"Deadline" is a deadly phrase
inviting fear instead of praise.
Why not a "liveline"
or "Date By When"?
And as I say that, I think again.

I pause for thought, as I often do
which is why my work is overdue.
I'll procrastinate
as habit dictates
until I'm in the overload stew.

Then plans and schedules give me peace
While occasions for play
are a true release.
And there is nothing else to do
but take my time
exactly when it's due!


A Lifetime of being in and out of love for Melbourne

Chapter 3:  1979 - 82

Directionless whether in South Yarra,
Box Hill North or North Fitzroy,
it's a time for star gazing, learning
the language of refugee landings: I am
an island of empathy, someone
who now can't see why others say
"They all look the same". I react to
foreign impulses, all too familiar, and
become a mother, move to Dromana.


NaPoWriMo 15

Off the Cuff 4: A History Poem & Community

  APAD 4:   Prompt: a history poem

"Here is always now. How can it be anything else?" Robert Dessaix

Let's say each brown crumbling fern frond
I've snipped off this morning (then)
is a chapter in my history and the fern's.
Let me announce publication of a book
starring dead leaves dumped on a garden bed,
the past informing the future of serial growth.
Continuance must and does matter.
I must wear long sleeves and gloves
since the cancer. To separate these two facts
would seem dishonest. I sweat freely
as I lift and dump and snip, and press down
on more weed than I have bins for.
Let's say (then, now) that my arms
enfold - embrace what was (there) then
is Here Now and only here. Now.

NaPoWriMo

Community


She sees them as she drives to shops:
tall, narrow, the girls short-skirted

the boys who swing hips, look down
at neighbourhood caucasian friends.

The mothers are swathed in gorgeous colour,
backs lacking babies snug in shawl or cloth.

She hears the community church
has offered help. She doesn't belong

but thought of knocking on their door
offering a casserole, afternoon tea

She is surprised at her timidity -
the street was hers before they came.

But isn't that true for any tenanted
houses with unmowed lawns?

She remembers how a different colour
can be a justification for advantage.

Remembers, too, the food offered
in welcome, too tough for her teeth.

Let the church marshall support.
She happily relinquishes guilt.