Jackson

And here’s a secret. All my poems are about love. Does that answer your question? Love, and the holy voices of love made of nothing and light made of nothing and noises made of everything and words made of where and who— Aren’t your poems about that? Your poems. You know, the lines that come… Read more

if (    I xtend    beyond fone & skin, paper & sweat, screen & breath,    a weave thru web&layers intu    yu /a piece of me in yu/ ) then {    I contain a piece, a peace, of    yu; /all            /        /yu hu          /        /have reached me/ } cradle; keep safe; Read more

When we need him we siphon him out of the software, out of the layers, out of the hyper-reality and into the inter-reality of our mouths (hands, eyes) and release him. When we release him we let him out of his box, out of his house, out of his walled garden and into the buffeting… Read more

spam u with it spray u with it under the stained sky in the filthy rain I stand and watch myself spam u with it on the bruised horizon u stand on the sunset line I fly staining the sky with my filthy rain aiming at your eye with my germy spit and shit but… Read more

tree breaks at base, falls as one on earth. Drum shakes floor and heartbeat tree lies alone without music bird whispers tomorrow his birthday new trees grow in the fallen tree’s arms tomorrow he sings in a new tree’s arms happy bird day Displayed in WA Spring Poetry Festival PoetTrees 2005 Read more

Either way, let it be quick and let it be gentle. And let there be someone to touch and someone to listen. In every timezone birthing, unbirthing. At every moment prayer, for you, etching silent thought or wailing, or speaking quietly or strongly or chanting, or being written or being read on emails, blogs and… Read more