Saturday, September 13, 2008


Day after day I lie curled inside time,
____the mind-shadows cast by so much death
____in strange abeyance. There's a rest from
____onwardness, too: my body saturated with
____its life so far, sealed against dissolution.
____My feet are growing wings from the bruises,
____storing strength for the next reach of the journey.

____________from Fall, Diane Fahey
___________(Best Australian Poetry 2005)

yellow girl, amalia chimera

in my head i make lists of books to read to my children before bed...

____- Le Petit Prince
____- Austen, because she's charming and wonderful
____- the Old Man and the Sea, because when it's over, they'll ask me the most important question of all: why daddy? and we can talk about the human spirit.
____- Alice in Wonderland, Robinson Crusoe, the Secret Garden, Shel Silverstein's poetry,
____- Dickens, because I need to read some too
____- Eliot's cat poems
____- Roald Dahl, because I grew up reading them
____- ee cummings & Pablo Neruda so they can learn to think in images

and so on.


Attach the words of a conversation
to the backs of fireflies, rose petals, and shy hands:
watch them rattle and squeal
as they fly away, grow roots, and fidget in pockets-
(the words dissolve into alleverything,
the next tulip you see is me,
my next breath you)

say nothing.
the dust of silence settles on everything,
the air between us stills:
tideless afternoon.
the Quiet charms new meanings
into breaths, eyestares, heartbeats-
and the air ripples with a quiver
(looks away from your lips
and reclines sadly back into the chair)


Quinton Marvin Noahrat, Born: January 5th, 1983

Grew up in a family of 4; received much love and advice, made sound decisions and learned to appreciate them. Knew that the consequence of failure was humility, and the outcome of humility a gentle and welcoming heart. Continued to play Kabalevsky's children's pieces even into his 20's because they were 'charming'. Pretended to dislike wearing his school uniform of: white shirt, navy and light blue striped tie, charcoal trousers, black leather shoes, navy blazer, though he secretly loved it. Discovered how to smile with his hands and eyes- which he confessed the ultimate achievement. Read too slowly. Made love too slowly. Played Bach too slowly. Disliked long drives but loved long walks. Was never plagued by unnecessary depressions; smile frequently, laughed wholly, and was not nervous to reach out and hold her hand. Studied assiduously, graduated highly, worked fervently, loved passionately, lived lovingly. Spoiled his daughters with fancy dresses and pretty shoes. Demanded his sons learn to hammer nails, take out the trash, get part-time jobs, and recite at least one prayer for gratitude. Watched unashamedly his wife undress before bed, slept besides her peacefully, and dreamed gently. Grew old gracefully, told his grandchildren long stories unnecessarily, and started turning white gradually. Stopped working to devote more time to being human, reading, walking slowly, loving slowly, kissing slowly, drinking tea excessively, holding hands inappropriately (so his daughters would laugh and say dad, i'm 35 for God's sake!), and stroking ladies' hair benevolently. Grew quiet, said more in fewer words, continued to rest his head on her lap, listened to all patiently, listened to wind, leaves falling, flowers growing, nature living, relentlessly. Dreamt of flying, was troubled by noise, and eventually, would say i-love-you too occasionally. Lived beautifully, was consoler to all, grew sleepy steadily, died effortlessly.

(soo many things i wish for)


i am... sad tonight.
there is a life somewhere else that ought to have been mine. other people's mistakes have brought me here, things i have paid for, pay for, will continue to pay for till... later. and that's just the way it will be.


dear everything i miss:
i miss you. thought you should know. i miss you lots.
bye for now.


the most important thing to remember i guess is...

____My feet are growing wings from the bruises,
____storing strength for the next reach of the journey.

(if you don't think that's beautiful, we probably can't be friends)

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

your eyes remind me of marble sculptures. it is that which remains after a processing of removing that we see. something beautiful...