Monthly Archives: December 2010

Christmas and New Year Haiku and Senryu


next in line

for santa…

Mummy’s spit in my hair


Christmas lights…

across the road

traffic light blinking


Christmas Eve

kids asleep – unwrapping



new Christmas boardies…

a size too small

after lunch


hanging on a nail…

the end of the year


New Year’s calendar

hung over

the kitchen sink


curb side bin

emptied New Year’s day –

a little bit left



To the bloke dating my sister,


When we heard you were over

a decade older than her

my brother said something

about ‘Uncle Dave’ and I must admit

we all laughed a little.


Two migratory birds

flew into Brisbane last Christmas, white

as chalk cliffs; their bones grinned

in the sun as they anticipated our eyes.


And we watched…

sunlight playing  in her hair,

her travelled heart

no longer searching for repair.

Cracking a Gold we drank agreeably

about Kentish ales and how you met:

in grey twilight

picking up the clarinet

next to her car

Last night, placing bets

about why you asked us to huddle

around the laptop, we watched

a grinning British bowler hat

beside our sister, your new bride.

And we hooted like drunken yobbos

from The Hill at the Gabba.


Sacred space in the suburbs


The room crinkles plastic sheeting,

stepping softly, we pause

to help her focus.


All senses gather again

inside walls, to hold a meeting

for a minute.


This is a room for women.  I clamp

a hose to the tap, filling the pool

with warm waters.


Her sisters recreate a womb

out of soft light around her.

Busy, hushed, pause again, carry on.


Trade like hands push and probe,

‘Position is good.  Don’t

push yet.  Let it happen.’


She stands alone in labour,

supported from a distance

of a glass of water.


Ruptured water balloon drains

insulation, coconut saddled into pelvis,

pressing for a three-inch journey.


Another set of leg cramps

down my belly. This body knowing

what to do, taking over.


The walls, quiet street

and sacred night accept the noises

of a first breath and cry.