Poetry | Stories | Photography
Between human and ghost, the old one sits waiting for the inevitable.
A liminal being, he is already in a place unknown to the living ones.
His cats chirp and meow as if to say, “Hurry along, Dear. You might be tasty.”
He waits for the one who will not arrive.
The leaves rustled as the wind blew a gale through the realm.
A gathering of ladybugs hanging out in the law firms and the stock exchange, waiting for a predatory high.
Indifferent to the ladybugs, the bees like to socialise at the pub while waiting for the flowers to bloom.
Pots and pans go flying as Mum chases after Alfie again.
Bloody hell, they’re always getting into it, and now she’s red because he stole some apple pie.
I want to be alone to read, but she continues to chase him, yelling, “I’ll slash yer arse if I catch you!”
Sigh.
The agent calls again.
The purchaser is waiting for the contract & section 32
We have, oh wai-
The line goes silent.
A call from the same number leads you to the coffee cup
He’s ready to grump
Good aft-, oh, good mor-
A glitch in your thought patterns
“I’m having tech issues!”
in the morning fog,
in my morning brain fog,
I sit at a cafe table.
I am eager to type words,
a lil photo of a coffee,
whimsical free Facey post.
Unintended consequences,
uneducated, she thinks,
asking about my comments.
a reactive grumble brews,
a desire to comment,
seeking clarity, edit the post.
—
In the morning fog,
in my morning brain fog,
I sit at a cafe table.
I am eager to type words,
a photo of a coffee,
whimsical free Facey post.
Unintended consequences,
uneducated, she thinks,
cutting into my comments.
A reactive grumble brews,
a desire to comment,
seek clarity, edit the post
—
In the morning fog,
in my morning brain fog,
I sit at a cafe table.
Wordly & eager to type,
a photo of a coffee,
whimsical Facey post.
Unintended consequences,
uneducated, she thinks,
cutting into my comments.
A reactive grumble brews,
a desire to comment,
seek clarity, edit the post
whole.
love split open
emotions, stardust, and the odd hair
flowing outward
parted.
feeling everything
dark clouds and the unintended rainbow
flooding rivers
sutured.
forgetting the pain
teardrops mixed with paint, dust, and rain
love in the mirror
She left the laundry on the clothesline until 9 pm, giving herself an excuse to go outside and look up at the moon.
Standing there watching the sky.
The moon appears among clouds like the moon from her memory, evoking feelings of a new beginning or ending.
Each day flowed in compartments
waking at a time chosen by someone else
Working from fog-covered dawn to the darkness of night
whispering to the wind of dreams
Earning a place at the coward’s table
watching comrades die, fall into death, and become death
Whispering hope to our unseen God
enveloping my sorrow when liberation gave us a chance
I called to you,
timid at first and then hoarse from the echoes.
I thought you had gone.
I found myself calling to you from our bedroom,
and you looked haunted.
“A dream”, I said from a dream,
“A dream without you in the nothingness of life.”
Rustling outside removed her from a nap.
Going to the door and looking outside, she stumbled upon a bag of seeds.
Keen to see them grow, she propagated the “Little Paws”.
After six months, meowing starts coming from the greenhouse; she runs outside to see kittens everywhere.
C & K 