becopoetry

Poetry Music Thoughts and Reflections

— May 1, 2023
The ‘Special Needs’ of Poetry — July 25, 2017
The Blues of my Arms — August 24, 2022

The Blues of my Arms

(after Duplex by Jericho Brown)

in her bedside drawer a secret sharp
on my bedside table a scolding tea

a tea that burns my tongue and throat
into my stomach down into my arms

down into my arms and up into lungs
lungs that pause and clench the heart

my heart that clenches to a question 
is the skylight closed in her 14-year-old room

my 14-year-old’s room built eight years ago
which went unused when her head lay with mine

unused when her head lay next to mine
before the ghost in the blues of my dreams

in the blues of my dreams a ghost in my arms
circles the altar of our family room

our family room with a cornered orchid 
pink flowers faded beside the stone

pink flowers beside a stone I once held 
when I birthed her raw out over my room

when I birthed her roar out over our room
that first night alone her held in my arms

this night now alone without her here held 
a silence raw between our rooms

in her bedside drawer her secret was sharp
on my bedside table a scalding tea 






Pinned — July 14, 2022

Pinned

Competition –

An expression of an artist’s soul in colour and/or shades-

Death –

Coming head to head with another person, persons, team or teams to find a winner and a looser-

Book –

A piece of fruit tied to the story of Adam an Eve-

Carpet –

Surrendering of all tension in the body of being or in the body of the world-

Winter –

The opposite of life, the abyss of the unknown-

Painting –

A floor covering made of soft material-

Apple –

Pages bound together and filled with words or pictures-

Peace –

The coldest season

after 8pm — September 16, 2021
one year on — August 6, 2021
The Bird in Lockdown — May 19, 2021
Anything But COVID-19 — November 11, 2020
Shoulder in Lockdown — November 6, 2020

Shoulder in Lockdown

 

i battle with a body primed to run   

the same as yesterday

what haven’t i done? 

what have i done?

i haven’t taken my pills 

i have taken my pills every day 

a guilty urge to hide in bed 

it’s then i remember

we’re still in lockdown

i think of my feet 

i feel into my hands

.

interrupting my tricks to fix

a familiar sound

thumping feet on the floorboards 

a wide gait trot

from his bedroom to mine

.

he pauses at the edge of my mattress

giggles when he meets my eyes

roughly pulls up the doona 

bums his way into bed

and begins stroking my skin

mummy’s shoulder he sighs

then moves his hand to my mouth

Shhhhhhhhh

.

we have time this morning

a suburb away 

today his sisters are with their dad 

no school runs

no disability day service 

just him and i 

with nothing in particular

to have to do

.

Shhhhhhhhh i copy 

blowing the sound onto his hand

do it again he delights

Shhhhhhhhh i sound 

onto his forehead 

.

He rests his face onto mine

the hair on his chin 

a soft prickle on my cheek

my exhale slows

he sniffs at my mouth

wincing at my un-brushed breath

he pushes my shoulder away 

cuddle Mummy’s back

i laugh and turn

.

he spoons in close 

strokes the skin on my collar bone

his nose tip touching the back of my neck

Mummy’s shoulder he sighs 

Dispensability — October 8, 2020
Curfew — August 4, 2020

Curfew

parting one point five

among the lavender

a myna feather

 

five k ruled radius

behind a fence

frayed bird of paradise

 

mask-less men at work

the seven sides of a stop sign

 

a grey gum forks

electric wires

my muzzled breath

 

distant school bell sings

suitcase on the nature strip

 

in roller-blade knee pads

an old man paints

 

the broken lock

on a gate that swings

stage four curfew

 

eight pm

rings around the August moon

 

3rd August 2020, Melbourne