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MelaleucaNumber 3: September 2009 Editor: Phillip A. Ellis

Table of Contents

Demise Susan Adams 3

Gift Susan Adams 4

On the Train to Kiama Susan Adams 5

Kredo/Credo Phillip A. Ellis

translation by L. S. Fisher

6

Powers L. S. Fisher 7

I Delight in the Dark L. S. Fisher 8

Ghazal of the Barber's Shop Rae Desmond Jones 9

Winter Ghazal Rae Desmond Jones 10

All works are copyright by their respective creators, 2009; the arrangement of this collection is

copyright by Phillip A. Ellis, 2009.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works

2.5 Australia License .

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Demise

We are the noise

of men

dogs running steps

to water

we swim our thirst.Sky on sea on sky

there is no in between

weare the ether

the strident is just

a vapour

but toxins spread

on air.

Susan Adams

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On The Train to Kiama

You're looking at rats on an island -

or 'look-a-likes'

on mine I search for rope colours

with matching shrouds -

for poems.

Well Mother, smother or slather me

you took my breath away

still - I cannot breathe.

You turned the compass around

redirected mail - Atlantis never

did sink we nest amongst

palms and parakeets. When the bells

tolled we didn't ask

every day was Sunday.

Head took over the electrics

after a visit by the twin,

the weaning of woo began.

History fought to free itself,

a trip on sabbatical where Doona warmth

of frivolity was cold weave with its breathiness.

The ballerina and the music box

were allowed to wind down

by fingers that forgot to water the future

gung-ho with new skills not yet honed.

We limp to your return, burnt hands on the barre

needing the rest of us.

This freedom was shallow.

We had loved and shelled ourselves,

needing more than sun-screen protection.

Our stories anything we wanted from them

our only definition was 'us'.Chameleons in wardrobes of dress-up clothes

lover finds lover

just another painted layer -

even horses wear coats down here.

Susan Adams

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Kredo

Mi ne timas la matenon, mi ne timas la sunlumon,

mi ne timas la tagon, la tarentelojn de morto,

la skorpiojn de la memo, mia divido

el la mondon, mia mondon kaj realecon.

Mi naos, ne arko de nokto, ne petromizo--

tio nodo de tropoj de la limo--

tra la fluoj kaj la riveroj de la vero en mia

mondo, mia mondo kaj realeco.

Phillip A. Ellis

Credo

I do not fear the morning, I do not fear the sunlight,

I do not fear the day, the tarantellas of death,

the scorpions of the self, my splitfrom the world, my world and reality.

I will swim, no night's shark, no lamprey--

that knot of the slime's tropes--

through the flows and the rivers of the truth

in my world, my world and reality.

translated by:L. S. Fisher

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I Delight in the Dark

I delight

in the dark,

when all the stars

shine like Mars;

when, at night,coldness is stark,

I delight

in the dark.

L. S. Fisher

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Ghazal of the Barber's Shop

Photo: Italia / Campione Del Mondo 2006,

Ha! All of that indestructible juicy potency.

Bolder (even) than all the sultry young men

With airbrushed hair around the wall.

The line of ancient warriors on their seats

Glower mildly into the marbled mirror -

Watch closely the shelves of oil, pomades,

Scissors & a fluted silver black blow drier.

There rests the razor, there stands

The grizzled shaving brush, with fretted hairs.

The barber severs a mop of dark lustrous hair& it descends in clumps to the grey slate floor.

Rae Desmond Jones

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Winter Ghazal

As dark clouds press down the earth

The gas heater whispers & sighs,

Those yellow brick flats up the hill

Stare down with open eyed surprise;

As white underwear flaps languidly

On the verandahs, our world turns slow.

Breathe warm beneath your blanket,

Listen as the mouse rattles in the ceiling.

Soon it will be Spring & the flats

Will be alive with bright, light clothes.

Rae Desmond Jones