Storm clouds part
the moon shines through
it stopped raining
Raining
Potions
Potions
Bubble and boil
Little glimmers
Evening
Golden sun leaves now
sky darkens slowly over the earth
silver moon is here
Jasmin
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.
