Wednesday 11 November 2020

Mask

 [Mask]

The model mask, the medical mask,

The non-political mask. Don’t ask.

The unspeakable mask, the spoken-for mask,

The chinless wonder, three-ply downunder.

The bergamask, the back-off mask,

The bigger better mask. Bugger the mask.

The smile mask, vote mask, breathe mask,

Style mask, float mask, death mask.

Good to see you, what there is of you to see.

Nice to put a name to a mask.

This waiting game. This florid mouthguard

When the signal all-clear. The lip synch.

This strap-on task. This nosy farce.

When’s party time. The Hallelujah Chorus.

Tuesday 29 September 2020

Globe

Not a sonnet, the Globe was his closet

Changing stages being the given chances

Worst fallen we scribble into existence

Famewards. But attend to it, exit prone.

Windows burning all the night

As words turned paper to tragedy.

His family alone in rivery country,

His pen finding fault in persons.

But harder to refute, the right

In anyone’s argument, their turning belief

And silences that like hours seem.

Fitting each phrase in its spiral down

To nothing, up to the flags’ array

Watching for his choice moment, Mercy.

 

Tuesday 11 August 2020

Sign

 Seventeen Signs

 Seventeen 17-syllable lines using public lockdown signs in italics

 

winter sunrise

   play area closed

plane flight a pastime of the past

 

the working week again breakfast

   take away only

online headlines

 

woman alone on train alone

   stay home save lives

on her phone alone

 

morning magpies

   one point five metres apart

peck for nature strip worms

 

wide blue sky

   thank you for your understanding at this time

 empty road

 

once quick brown stick went

   click and collect

 in the maw of the jaw-drop dog

 

carpark vacant grids

   storewide reductions

carpark line ups with symptoms

 

holdups at the bank

   please wear a face covering

speechless in small groups

 

chairs stacked lights out

   thank you for dining in with us

 bain-marie deep cleaned

 

leaves curl in the wind

   follow directional arrows

assemble rest

 

computer non-stop verbals

   face masks required

its fingertip worlds

 

highway with nobody

   shop capacity is eight

apartments of one

 

they glow in the day

   wash your hands regularly

they glow in the night

 

winter sunset

    sorry we’ve had to close again

night a place to dream

 

staring at the known world

    for more information visit

 knownworld dot com

 

curfew etiquette

   keep your distance where you can

you and the gatepost

 

heavy rain

   your wellbeing is our priority

trees take hits

Sunday 19 July 2020

Mist


Library Lockdown: Two Sonnets

Philip Harvey

[Missed]

Thump of returns chute, earphones unmute
Clatter of trolley, splatter of brollies
Beep beep of beep wand, wrong drop-off unfond
Backspace of laptop, novels slip slop slap slop
Much less sloppier photocopier
Soft keyboard touch, neat handwriting clutch
Coughs stifled resigned, crack of antique spine
Swish of page turning, page swish returning
Stack’s muffled laughter, thoughts ever after
Mumble at ‘reserved’, grumble of self-serve
Ring of connecting, ping an incoming thing
CDs in CDs, press stud DVDs
Clickclack of loans gate, phone calls with books late
Hard to believe, sounds missed in libraries

[Mist]

Hard to mist sights of library lockdown
Tip-tap that rain makes, phone calls with no takes
Desktops and opacs, square blanks and all blacks
Titles inspecting across their aisles same thing
Uncalled-for reserves that are there but to serve
Stack’s ghostly laughter, no thoughts hereafter
Spurned pages unturning, pages’ wish unlearning
No covid coughs here, no customers appear
For them no happy hush, no last-minute essay rush
No Encyclopaedia Britannica
No hideout with laptop, no time to talk and stop
Deep deep the deep quiet, a silverfish diet
Mollified trolleys, no bowl of soft lollies
Slump of returns chute, all tute rooms quite mute

 

 

 

 


Missed


Library Lockdown: Two Sonnets

Philip Harvey

[Missed]

Thump of returns chute, earphones unmute
Clatter of trolley, splatter of brollies
Beep beep of beep wand, wrong drop-off unfond
Backspace of laptop, novels slip slop slap slop
Much less sloppier photocopier
Soft keyboard touch, neat handwriting clutch
Coughs stifled resigned, crack of antique spine
Swish of page turning, page swish returning
Stack’s muffled laughter, thoughts ever after
Mumble at ‘reserved’, grumble of self-serve
Ring of connecting, ping an incoming thing
CDs in CDs, press stud DVDs
Clickclack of loans gate, phone calls with books late
Hard to believe, sounds missed in libraries

[Mist]

Hard to mist sights of library lockdown
Tip-tap that rain makes, phone calls with no takes
Desktops and opacs, square blanks and all blacks
Titles inspecting across their aisles same thing
Uncalled-for reserves that are there but to serve
Stack’s ghostly laughter, no thoughts hereafter
Spurned pages unturning, pages’ wish unlearning
No covid coughs here, no customers appear
For them no happy hush, no last-minute essay rush
No Encyclopaedia Britannica
No hideout with laptop, no time to talk and stop
Deep deep the deep quiet, a silverfish diet
Mollified trolleys, no bowl of soft lollies
Slump of returns chute, all tute rooms quite mute

 

 

 

 


Thursday 25 June 2020

Editorial



For Marilyn Klerx-Hardie

Said my editor to my splurger, that’s over the top.
Said my accountant to my raver, when’s this going to stop.
Said my censor to my free spirit, did you have to use fuck.
Said my caged-in to my free-range, friend you’re in luck.
Said my normal to my supernormal, it’s the end of lockdown.
Said my supernormal back again, that bug’s all over town.
Said my provocateur to my anam cara, go get a life.
Said in similar vein my anam cara, I’ll go get a life.
Said my aesthete to my preacher, what’s that all about.
Said my preacher to my aesthete, truth will out.
Said my death wish to my life force, isn’t darkness fun.
Said my life force back again, here comes the sun.
Said my inner critic to my latest effort, wetter and wetter.
Said my latest effort to my inner critic, you do better.


The sonnet, about the Inner Editorial that poets and writers live with, has in the background this long socio-political poem by Allen Ginsberg, ‘The Ballad of the Skeletons’ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4KWcmI802mw



Thursday 11 June 2020

Driveway



Stand in your driveway on Anzac Day.
Your own driveway where concrete meets gutter.
Your driveway on Anzac Day the gutter.
Between gutter and the stars your driveway.
Stand during Covid Day on your concrete.
Stay on the Ruby Princess you Anzacs!
Stand on concrete eating Anzac Biscuits.
Smoothed concrete gutter where driveway meets road.
Stand in your driveway with a bronze badge.
Stand in your staked driveway with BBQ.
Stand in your driveway with BBQ steak.
Stand within cooee of golf course driveway.
Drive fast as can to the golf course driveway.
Transfer funds for your Anzac Day driveway.

Wednesday 10 June 2020

Normal


Normal wakes up to crowning achievements.
Safety, it’s a matter of opinion.
Things, he gets back to them, ignites the engine.
He (it’s not always he) leaves out what’s meant.
Won’t. Normal will not be told stay at home.
Signs the supermarket visitors book.
Impatiently relaxes, takes a good look
At unprecedenteds. Hair wants a comb.
The new Normal coughs, might have a headache.
A fever? Too early to say. Not though, why.
Things, there are things that he just can’t fake.
More like the old Normal, up for a laugh
Eats his saved sandwich, doesn’t want to die.
He, all that remains of his skeleton staff.

Tuesday 2 June 2020

Puzzle


It is the empty shops behind the glass.
Download more buttons to tell us the time.
X marks the place for long distance mime.
A million phones give an online class.
Trains fill with no one in particular.
Carpark of rust sharps and wet autumn leaves.
A mirage of masks it seems, half-day gloves.
Jog with dog at sunset spectacular.
Life’s so precious people do anything.
Avenues of stay home, roads of asleep.
State of emergency now resetting.
The mental hustle, the indoor bustle.
Which bits to fit which bits, what not to keep.
This infernal pest of a jigsaw puzzle.