Storm clouds part
the moon shines through
it stopped raining


Bubble and boil
Little glimmers


Golden sun leaves now
sky darkens slowly over the earth
silver moon is here


I smell the jasmin
the wind calls me to smell
i open the door

On Illness in Southern Africa (a poem in experimental haiku)

Cracks. Healthy fiction –
Pomegranates. Troubled life.
Bleeding fruit. Cement.

Diary of Salt Lake –
Passage into Bethelsdorp.
Myths of beloveds.

Roses. Stars. They hover –
Suffering has a numbed womb.
Cross the seas threshold.

Honed crystalline grief –
Life in the Northern Areas
Quotes luminous cores.

Houses should have dogs –
Walk, dig holes or cha-cha with them.
You’ll relive childhood.

#26 (haiku)

yellow petals turning to the sun —
perhaps they think I fear their beauty

Diary of Fitting a Museum inside a Suitcase (twelve experimental haiku)

Blood knot. Tap root –
Passage into Helenvale.
Primitive Buddha.

Buddha of Salt Lake –
Ice lungs. Glaciers taste like salt.
Pirates find glory.

He gutted the fish –
Trimmed the gills neatly.
Hollywood squalor.

A scrape. Slow dance. Church –
The Buddha has seen skylines.
A sheet of music.

Hens in the backyard –
Past. Slick glaciers. Wren. Music.
Fig jam. Biscuits. Faux.

Spring and winter boots –
The butcher’s wife. Cake. Bread.
Author’s words lost moons.

Cairo. Ghost stories –
Kitchen table wisdom. Lamb.
Sprigs of rosemary.

Missing war. Alice –
We are made up of dead stars.
Drink up your school milk.

Red. The Christmas card –
Boughs. A series of mania.
Library of wounds.

Minor earth. Silence –
Typewriter and wedding cake.
Secret handshake. Glut.

Cold vertigo. Feast –
Faces solemn in the crowd.
Asphalt Winter Sea.

Grotesque Oracles –
Of nature’s bride. Alleyways.
Cardigans. Wormwood.

Family Life (a poem in experimental haiku)

Infatuation –
Winner of America.
Paper tigers ghosts.

Beast in the kitchen –
Drowned thing with her rosary.
At war with the roast.

Throne. Ghost. Leaf. All guests.
Pale. Ancestral bloodlines – a clever-experiment
In romanticism.

Beach life. A green-ish plate.
Swimming towards velvet rays-of-light.
A child’s-laugh (bees). Sea mist.

Jasmine passion – reel.
Flowers in a lonely mind.
Illness for breakfast.

After Leaving Mr Muirhead (a poem in experimental haiku)

Alleys. Streets. Wolves. Sheep.
The shores-of-Johannesburg do not smell like anything-like-Malibu.
It’s primitive living-for-sale.

To the lighthouse soul.
To Sappho, Antigone’s divine-ceremony.
Go fishing in rifts.

Something is damaged –
There is a richness in dust – mother-tongue.
Post-apartheid things. Compasses.

You are a typhoon –
Waves in the folds of daylight.
Childhood stars are past.

The end of violence –
The world’s feast is not my home.
Celestial routes. Fruits.

Lamb (a poem in experimental haiku)

Once a boy was hatched.
Born with sonnet wings most heaven-sent –
Eased into planting.

Appalled by the world’s stage.
Tooth – radar splitting the hunt
Courage is exposed.

Brilliant inner sea –
His cry glides across the moon.
This mother tongue comforts me.

Ghost of a vision.
Every finger a stem –
Leaves antiques, tears sap.

Winter’s bone – a party’s birthday balloon
Summoning earth’s ripening –
Blades of pleasant grass.