English poetry

Poems in English

On Home Beaches

Back, in my fifties, fatter that I was then, I step on the sand, belch down slight horror to walk […]

The Meaning Of Existence

Everything except language Knows the meaning of existence. Trees, planets, rivers, time Know nothing else. They express it Moment by […]

A Retrospect Of Humidity

All the air conditioners now slacken Their hummed carrier wave. Once again We’ve served our three months with remissions In […]

Travels With John Hunter

We who travel between worlds Lose our muscle and bone. I was wheeling a barrow of earth When agony bayoneted […]

The Mowed Hollow

When yellow leaves the sky They pipe it to the houses To go on making red And warm and floral […]

The Harleys

Blats booted to blatant Dubbing the avenue dire With rubbings of Sveinn Forkbeard Leading a black squall of Harleys With […]

The Sleepout

Childhood sleeps in a verandah room In an iron bed close to the wall Where the winter over the railing […]

Shower

From the metal poppy This good blast of trance Arriving as shock, private cloudburst blazing down, Worst in a boarding-house […]

The Images Alone

Scarlet as the cloth draped over a sword, White as steaming rice, blue as leschenaultia, Old curried towns, the frog […]

Predawn In Health

The stars are filtering through a tree Outside in the moon’s silent era. Reality is moving layer over layer Like […]

The New Hieroglyphics

In the World language, sometimes called Airport Road, a thinks balloon with a gondola Under it is a symbol for […]

Amanda’s Painting

In the painting, I’m seated in a shield, Coming home in it up a shadowy river. It is a small […]

Comete

Uphill in Melbourne on a beautiful day A woman is walking ahead of her hair. Like teak oiled soft to […]

The Butter Factory

It was built of things that must not mix: Paint, cream, and water, fire and dusty oil. You heard the […]

An Absolutely Ordinary Rainbow

The word goes round Repins, The murmur goes round Lorenzinis, At Tattersalls, men look up from sheets of numbers, The […]

Music To Me Is Like Days

Once played to attentive faces Music has broken its frame Its bodice of always-weak laces The entirely promiscuous art Pours […]

Late Summer Fires

The paddocks shave black With a foam of smoke that stays, Welling out of red-black wounds. In the white of […]

Poetry And Religion

Religions are poems. They concert Our daylight and dreaming mind, our Emotions, instinct, breath and native gesture Into the only […]

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