BLUEPEPPER

The Journey Towards The Seen bells sound as if recovering from vomiting the back paddock is moving further away across the iron fields float...

West       Her storms came last night howling out of the west.  less the clutter I remember the shaking of the walls.  more a concentra...

Is There a Theme to Life? Perhaps a polka dot scenario, like spots behind closed lids where breath is held waiting for a sensual touch that ...

Tumbletown There’s a shadow on the lung of the village where I live. Cass tries hard for a while then out comes the knife again. David has d...

A Levee to Absence the cards are brief this year in shallow condolence a levee to absence, broken the scattered sorrow left for salvage how ...

Set Me Free Everyone's voices are taken. Everyone's breath smells. It seems that sounds are heard from the depths of a deep well. Al...

Brutal is the Garden Brutal is the garden. Roses die bewildered. Mirrors break where they stand. Their shards scatter like knives. Grief is ...

Rising, Finally, From the Reverie  Rising, finally, from the reverie  of his life, the man looked around,  seeing clearly for the first time...

The Shortest Distance The shortest distance between two people is prayer. You might have thought it should be love? Think: horse-drawn carri...

you want to borrow hope from the saints these days the world rests on fault lines every city brought to its knees every road    a suspension...

Till the Wind calls the Sea (The Twelve Stations of the Grief)  The first four months  To know love is to not have love.    I can’t feel any...

Sketch I’m going to draw this poem for you so you can see what I can see: in this small stratosphere so much is silhouetted starkly against ...

You Just Never Know You and I don’t know the man framed in the doorway— and he doesn’t know he’s in this picture, and the room doesn’t know ...

She now sings the same song to her new lover “she now sings the same song to her new lover” - Charles Bukowski She now sings the same song t...

The Problems Incurred in Having a Dead Body on the Couch It’s a bad sign when they come to appraise the house and you’ve only got ten minute...

In Madrid           Long train ride passing thirsty farmland slow bullocks in the fields rocky country with boulders rolled by glaciers curi...

final resume the aim of this poem is to use up the irresistible bait of small talk   to usurp your expectations taste the lemon of fish the ...

Signs (for my late wife Dianne Robitaille) A fallen autumnal leaf perfectly lands in the template of my hand- I almost crushed it with my we...

Life After Death Something has startled me  where I thought I was safest, where I thought I belonged, so I will follow Whitman in avoiding t...

Redistribution of wealth in the western suburbs It was a time survival skills honed in the depression years still lingered. We made do with ...