Tuesday Poem: Cactus
November 6, 2017
Cactus
Spiky camel hump, buried in sand.
Alien artichoke, Martian’s lunch.
I’m told to admire your
‘architectural qualities’. As if
we build houses of needles,
like one of those three little pigs
gone crazy, his brain curling,
dizzy, to match pale gimlet tail.
What huffing
fire-mouthed dragon
could blow you down?
Crooked eyes only, crave cacti.
Yet, every few years, you explode
into a neon gown of Brazilian hues
pulsating, pink or gold, as at Mardi Gras.
When poor become princes,
and thin desert blooms.
PS Cottier
An ancient poem this one, if ten years qualifies as ancient. My cactus just bloomed, hence my digging it (the poem) up.
***
I just had two poems published in issue 23 of Failed Haiku, which is a great name for a journal. It refers to senryu, which are like haiku but quirkier. The home page is definitely worth a visit, for links to information about senryu, and so you can download the issues. I won’t link to the PDF of issue 23 (November 2017) here, but it is easily accessed at the site. The editor, Mike Rehling, also makes some interesting comments about senryu that particularly caught his eye.
Tuesday poem: Lycium barbarum
November 2, 2017
Another linked poem, this time published in on-line journal Umbel & Panicle. I had to look both those words up, and they deal with the way flowers are arranged on plants.
The journal concerns itself with poetry on botanic themes, which change with every issue. The theme that attracted me was ‘Nightshade’. My speculative poem is concerned with werewolves and goji berries, and has a very naughty last line. Hope you enjoy it!
Take the time to read some of the other poetry too; I’m really pleased to see my humorous poem amongst some pieces of a totally different tone. A very beautiful journal to look at too. I was tossing up whether to go with a botanical or wolfy picture, and the lupine won out.
Tuesday poem: The backcomber
October 16, 2017
The backcomber
Her hair is coiffured once a month.
Though she goes to bed unkempt,
glamour descends like a dream.
A scissored were-poodle inflicts revenge
for ridiculous, hedgy trims,
those uncouth bubbles of fur he wore,
imposed without his will.
She awakes to a memory of spray
and a beehive, tall as any tower.
Next month’s moon may well mean quiff.
Next month’s moon may just mean mullet.
PS Cottier
If I didn’t think that my next dog must be a rescue dog, I’d be buying a poodle. One of the large ones. But I don’t think I’d clip it into weird shapes like a hedge. One of the more intelligent dogs has to put up with a lot; do they envy the border collie?
One another note, I have a kind of short story, of a vaguely horrible sort, published at AntipodeanSF, called The Blood Parrot. Enjoy!
Tuesday poems: via links
September 21, 2017
A new online women’s poetry journal, based in Canberra and edited by Sandra Renew and Moya Pacey, has been launched called Not Very Quiet and I have three poems in it, covering such topics as homelessness — and the middle class desire to avoid the homeless — depression, and the way that depressed people are patronised, and annoying editors, and what should be done with them. That links to the last mentioned poem, which is the funniest one. Writing humorous poetry that also has more than laughs to it is quite an art, I think, and one type of work that I like to write. Have a look around at the journal, which contains a lot of interesting poetry.
Another newish journal is Mnemosyne: South Coast Women’s Journal which is edited by a group of women from, or living on, the south coast of NSW. I wrote a poem called ‘Going to the Coast’, which was published as part of their ‘Flash Fiction Friday’ initiative. A very lovely journal with a lot of ideas behind it.
If anyone is wondering how the name is pronounced; it’s a bit like Penelope. Which does not rhyme with antelope.
Tuesday poem: On nothing, via link
September 5, 2017
I just had a poem called ‘On Nothing’posted at Right Now: Human Rights in Australia, on the subject of climate change, inspired (if that’s the right word) by Peter Dutton, when he was recorded saying ‘Time doesn’t mean anything when you’re about to … have water lapping at your door.’ This was in reference to people living on small Pacific islands, who are already suffering obvious and dangerous effects of climate change. You can read it here.
This gives me an excuse to post one of my favourite images again.
PS Cottier 