So this is the new year…?

Oh hey, it’s 2009. Wouldya look at that.

How time flies.

I’ve been watching a lot of movies and working-from-home at the same time. This resulted in a four-month poetry hiatus. But I’m back!

(And no, regarding the last post: I didn’t grow a moustache. I wish I could!)

The kind folks at Voiceworks kindly published a poem of mine in their ‘Beat’ issue a couple of months ago. It went a little something like this:

My heart a chest of drawers

1. Red drawer
Sophia Loren’s breasts netted behind wet cotton. Klaus Kinski’s Dracula and the raw lust of unglamour. The inflamed joints where my spine becomes skull. When I watch the late news, I feel impotent. The tide of my blood still rushes forward when I call you.

2. Orange drawer
Fruit peel left on the table top: a hollow planet collapsing inwards. We danced the merengue to the radio on the lawn. Mustard seeds popped between my teeth. We made cordial on Sundays, jug too big for me to hold. I’ve seen too many sunrises from the wrong end lately.

3. Yellow drawer
Children unwrap presents on Christmas morning; the older ones try not to tear paper beliefs. I hear they trucked the beach into the city grain by grain. You washed my body with a new bar of Sunlight. The cat licks up yolk splattered on the floor.

4. Green drawer
Memories of home: Koro Kahikatea, strong and moss-bearded. A low voice sings cicada songs while I sleep. My right hand writes; my left hand holds the book so that I may write. I used to think that broccoli were tiny trees.

5. Blue drawer
Half-moon wavers above the swimming pool. The pool swallows the moon. A grey cat sometimes mews at our laundry door. I’m sewing a mixtape called ‘Raincoat’ for my early-morning downpours. I always feel for my pulse after you’ve hung up.

6. Purple drawer
Incense smokes bad spirits out of the house, though I’m still allergic. My spectacles match my hair-colour; I imagine I have wings the same shade. There used to be violet and indigo, but I guess they forgot to separate them in the wash.

This was an attempt to get my brain in order.

I was pleasantly surprised, today, to find that Miss Laila liked a poem of mine and posted it on her blog. Thank you, Laila. :)

More exciting things: I’m invading the US in May. That should be an adventure!

This month I’m reading e.e. cummings, a whole lot of NZ poetry, and the novel Coastliners. Actually I’m reading about twelve novels, as per usual. I’ll let you know which I finish.

Yesterday I learnt that there’s a moth that behaves just like a hummingbird. Look:

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6 thoughts on “So this is the new year…?”

  1. Hello my dear! Good to see you’ve put up a new post – been wondering when I could read your next one! I have a small request – could you please change ‘Acrylic Rose Arts’ to ‘Almarean Arts’ ? Much appreciated xx

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  2. You are my new favorite person.

    This peom made my heart flutter like that moth you discovered.

    Congratulations! (on existance) – it is happening all around us, AND i have noticed it happening around YOU in PARTICULAR. This is an HONOUR. Pin it to your forehead. make movies! people will watch them in underground cinemas with velvet ropes and a security guard call Fred. MARRY Fred! You wont regret it. He dosent want children but there are worse things, like wakeing up in the morning and realising you have had lint between your toes ALL NIGHT. Why didnt anyone warn you? there should be an alarm. You should hire someone to check your toes. you should wear different shoes. you should marry fred. you wont regret it.

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  3. Rhys, you’re a darling! :D You’ve definitely made my day, and *quite possibly* my week.

    Such was my grin at reading your comment that all the lint disappeared from between my toes!

    *hug*

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