Category Archives: Children

(g)rug

 

the koala tucked legs
of squirm disturbed sleep
and grasp clenched fist

each child I consider
shaving this chest

 

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unfolding you

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you place you on top of the aeroplane pile
big-eyes, arms-out, standing on grass
it’s for me.

I pick you up and crease you with my thumb

cross your arms
turn your eyes over
and press your head into the table

when it’s almost complete
for test-flight hand over

you dissolve into sobs.

take gulpfuls to unfold your words.

I have no idea what I’ve done.

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for Nogsy

Salt

I lean on a pandanus
they kept as a souvenir

the boys 
drive cars
in wet sand.

Before kids,

before rendered blocks
and squared lilly pillys,
the beach

and the road

700 metres
of casuarina, pandanus,
acacia and swamp weed.   

Tonka truck labyrinth
thinned crowds
to just mates

and girlfriends.  Surf
A-frames, sit
around night fires

behind the dunes
out of sight. 

an hour after patting down the earth


Trains on the floor of your room

it would have found you, brushed
itself against your leg, plopped
down in the middle of the track. 

‘Mi-Yeow alive Daddy?’

You button your lip
hold deep breaths in your belly
and stare at the memory
of a bag in the ground.

Twenty minutes
on my lap
you hold back

my explanations.  Look up
occasionally, ask my eyes for

a change in the situation.

Until Mummy walks in 
and your whirring little mind
lets your heart burst
all your sadness.

pebbles in coffee

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Sunday morning

a cold sleepy grey

forgetting –

we turned the calendar to Spring last week – inside

the man speaks about Momentum

on his TV show – a few grey pebbles rattle

in his words of hope and God loves us

again – I’ve made a coffee

too bitter – my boy’s

legs trundle his tricycle up and back

each time he passes my seat – he sings ‘bye’

a single drop of grey from the heavens

joins my coffee

a long journey

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his curious little hands pick up pebbles

from the garden

now they rattle in my coffee

along with the drop of heaven

it tastes sweeter

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Senryu

Senryu is another of the Japanese short forms of poetry.  It is structurally similar to Haiku but highlights ‘human nature’ and relationships whereas haiku is exclusively about nature.  Find out more here at Alan Pizzarelli.com.  By the way, yes I do have permission for the second senryu.  Before proceeding:  STOP – BREATH – OK? – ENJOY

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racing cars

in a crumpled pile –

his pajamas

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my pregnant wife

on her side

snores for two

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small boy through trees

spotting a wallaby

spotting him first

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Brisbane Ekka haiku/senryu

Brisbane’s Ekka is here again.  The city folk line up to taste the country.  The country folk suppress their smirks at city folk standing in wet cattle dung on the pavilion floors.  Dagwood dogs, fairy floss, show-bags, sheep shearing, live lamb births, children milking cows… ahhhhhhh.  Here are a couple of senryu from our Monday visit and also a link to great Ekka Haiku by Brisbane poet Graham Nunn here:  Ekka Daze .  Love it.

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city bound train

young girl with mum and nanna-

playing I-Spy

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Ekka feeding yard

the bigger ugly goat

receives none

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Sweet Potato

A little sweet potato

of endless giggles cries and poops

is kicking the inner linings of my girl

just where three little boy sweet potatoes

kicked before

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a pink sweet potato?

perhaps

there won’t be a scan

we’ll meet in six months

.

in six months

in a warm pool

I’ll catch you and touch you

for the first time

and place your warm sticky skin

on my girl

you’ll cry and learn to find

her breasts

your nose and hungry little tummy

will find them

and nuzzle close

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we’ll make your world warm

warm like the womb you nuzzle now

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it’ll be sweet

my little potato

A limerick

There was a week when Jonah filled the atmosphere with his particularly putrid brand about every 5 minutes.  I just had to find a funny side…

There was a young man named Jonah
Who, considered an excellent donor,
Shared wind from his bottom
Which made the air rotten
So now he lives life as a loner

Copyright © Andrew Phillips 2009 

Arriving Home

Pack Up All My Working World

Turn My Mind Off Business

For Jumping Down The Driveway

Is Jonah – Three – In All Of His-ness

 

“Daddy… Daddy… Daddy… Daddy!”

Voice With Matching Bouncing Bumps

Face Of Happy Cherried Fun And

Danced With Bubbled Jumps

 

Copyright © Andrew Phillips 2009