Scifaiku via link
July 1, 2022
Just had a number of science fiction haiku (scifaiku) published at Starlight SciFaiku Review Issue 2. Tap here to go there. The more I edit poetry for a newspaper, the more I seem to be writing speculative poetry. I am also having a scifaiku published every month at AntipodeanSF, which can be read here.
Poem via link: Osteoporosis
May 31, 2022
It’s been too long since I posted here, which is not (only) due to laziness, but because I have been incredibly busy. I am coming up to my first year anniversary as Poetry Editor at The Canberra Times, have been doing multiple book reviews, and just gave a reading. I was very pleased to have a poem published in an American journal called Please See Me, in a special issue on Women’s Health.
I am reaching the age where they start to monitor my body for all sorts of complaints and illnesses, and this inspired the poem. I also read the poem at the page linked to above.
Tuesday poem: The night I grew wings
April 12, 2022
I woke from uneasy sleep, as feathers tickled my suddenly sneezy nose. That has not stopped, and I need to bless myself twelve times a day. I carry tissues tucked between the feathers. If you are hit by sodden snow, it is probably a cloud-like tissue, slipping from inexpert wings. I would call the wings adequate, though, as I do not miss the morning commute. Please do not mistake me for an angel. I often swear, up here amongst the fluff, and my fingers pluck no cunning harp. Mittens cradle my blue-cold hands, and a beanie holds my head like an egg. Why this happened to me, I can't really say. Who has not dreamt of flight? Yet so few wake to feather doonas sprouting from shoulders like quotation marks. 'Anything becomes usual, given you have enough time to get used to it,' as I said to the press. I ride updrafts, and predict the patterns of sneeze. It is quietly wonderful, to share a life with pigeons, and to perch, a woolly gargoyle, for a quick cup of tea. PS Cottier
A fun poem, more than the illustration by Hans Tegner, which is excellent but a bit grim. And everyone should recognise the origin of that first phrase!
Except for the cat
February 10, 2022
The cancer riddled Staffie, the muzzle white where it was brindle once, the Great Dane who clocked up only three years (for we breed dogs too big for their strained hearts to cope) the smelly terrier who outlived them all, sitting with the bald budgie Chomp on his head (something that would never have been allowed when the dog was alive), the coin-sized islands of terrapin, the scurry of guinea pigs, the cat that adopted you even though you don’t like cats, the many goldfish that floated to the tops of tanks, all come to greet you as you travel over to the other side. They bite and scratch and peck, and the ballooned goldfish push inside your throat, and you feel the choking although you are dead, and you realise that the animals did not enjoy their lives being stunted, to fit into your notion of pet like a blistered foot caught in a too small shoe. Except for the cat, who never gave a shit.
PS Cottier
A fun piece of prose (poetry) in a vaguely horrific way. As an editor, I’m amazed by how many poems contain cats. Here’s my contribution.
Glossy black cockatoo
January 16, 2022
Spotted two glossy black cockatoos down at the coast, feasting in a (sort of) suburban yard. Is seeing them purely a good thing, given that so much of the bush burnt recently? Have they been driven beyond their comfort zone, looking for casuarina? The lovely photo of the female cockatoo was taken by a neighbour.
Trees gone glossy gentle creaking of pods displacement PS Cottier
