My overcast hair
a shock in a youthful world
Clutching the kettle
Melbourians stare at me
An invisible kettle
Tag: kettle
A Glimpse
Within the dimly lit summer lounge room
I catch a glimpse of a frazzled hot witch
She has the look of unspoken potions
a level wild stare from the heathen glass
Fed up with the toxic washing machine
ready to cast a spell with the kettle
Recovering from a hellish hot flush
friends for a little while with the steel fridge
Touching the wispy fluff muff on her head
sad tones take her heart to the coffee cup
A gratitude vibe from the dirt within
no need to turn the sour bitches into toads
Morning
Water streaming towards the kettle
emptying my emotions into the sink
My favourite jumbo cup awaits
The kettle tells me she is finished
pouring boiling water into the plunger
Watching the way the coffee grains move
The milk and sugar do whatever they want
watching the empty spoon of my life
A final sound as the teaspoon hits the sink
Waiting
Sea pigeons do circle
The scent of methane, rotten and sour
dreaming of verdant green
forgotten by the world
sitting beside a broken toaster
kettle without a cup
We remember a home
to be of service, to have purpose
boiling, steaming, toasting
Idle
We sit contemplating
Waiting
Confrontation = Kettle
Afraid of the kitchen
Noises coming from the cupboards
a scrape of some sort
So sick of this hell
Confrontation is the only solution,
the saucepans fly
Hell’s Symphony plays a wild tune
falling to the floor
Only the kettle will save you today
Morning Grass
morning frosty grass
barefoot walking to the fence
my feet are stained green
tip-toeing to the kitchen
embracing my black kettle
Happy World Poetry Day!
Ode to my Kettle
Oh, my divine, sweet love!
Oh, how you burn for me!
Your loveth steams so hot.
Your breath burns my lips.
Oh, my sweet kettle of love.
Oh, my hot teabag activator.
My sweet tea cosy covered.
My lovely kettle of kindness.
Sweet Teabag
Tired and burnt out. No one could give me the strength to move my body from the chair, yet you have that power.
Once the kettle boils, you go into my cup.
My sweet teabag, I love you so much. I might dunk you in the water just a few more times.
Hidden Kettle
An aversion to
the kettle in the kitchen.
Hidden from my sight,
a cup of tea calls to me;
the kettle sits in the bin.
Isolation
The sky is blue.
Fat cupids dance in the clouds.
I might have a breakfast beer and watch tv.
Another parcel arrives: still no toilet paper.
More tea, kettle? The kettle hates me, and the biscuit tin is empty.
I’m so alone in Isolation.
Ghosts, sing Nick Cave songs with me.
C & K 