Saturday, 26 March 2011

Bangkok Flowers by Christine Anne Borra


Bangkok Flowers photograph by Christine Anne Borra
bangkok flowers
suspended in light
move with grace
false dawn of the night

bangkok flowers
your faceless ease
hang in the street
sensations deceived

bangkok flowers
bloom not for the day
neon and silk
watch them sway

bangkok flowers
who judges the plight
who grew such beauty
who questions the right

Sunday, 20 March 2011

Blanket Man by Christine Anne Borra Photographs by Belinda Jane Brown




Photo Belinda Jane Brown
http://www.belindabrownphotography.co.nz/

On distant shores
Where Taniwha roam
Where first light rises
Is his home

With blanket and loin cloth
Living free
The gutter is his
Joshua Tree

See him each day
Miss him when gone
He doesn't give a shit
If the cops come along

Our brother in arms

Photo Belinda Jane Brown
http://www.belindabrownphotography.co.nz/

Our own Blanket Man
Part of our city
In the palm of our hand
Ancient ones placed on high
The strangeness you see
Don't judge him my friend
He likes living free

Free from the machine
Our own great unwashed
Free as himself
In blanket and loin cloth

Moving On by Gary Fortington

© Gary Fortington


He stepped from the revolving door and onto the top step of his office building
and then it hit him......fuck it was cold! Why would anyone in their right mind
spend August in Melbourne? Never mind, he would be gone in two weeks, off to
Lemnos. The Greek Islands were his favourite holiday spot and he would be
there soon, at least after this next work assignment. An opportunity had arisen,
a great opportunity that would see him promoted to the position of partner in
his prestigious law firm, but only if he could succeed in closing the deal over the
next week.
As he stepped onto the pavement, warmed by thoughts of a sun drenched Greek
island holiday and a lucrative partnership in the business, he deftly brought the
collar of his new Burberry trench coat to his ears. In an instant he had flicked
it up and returned his hands to the warmth of his fleecy lined pockets. The
weather was bitter and brought him back to reality with a jolt. Frenzied rain
and sleet lashed city workers who were desperately trying to make the comfort
of their cars or the protection of the nearest railway station. The wind howled
and swirled through the streets like some sort of banshee. Papers, plastic bags
and other airborne garbage clung to power poles as if trying to resist the fury
of this storm. Despite the weather he could still feel smug about his rare good
fortune, thirty-five years of age, married with an attractive wife and two
beautiful children, a successful lawyer with a partnership in the offering. It
doesn’t get much better than that! Still he had worked hard, many late nights
and deals. Deals that he had done in both his business and private life, deals
done and compromises made to ensure his rapid rise to the top of his
profession. Yes, life was good!
Busy checking his Pierre Cardin timepiece he barely noticed the homeless man,
that is, until he was right on top of him. The poor bastard with all his worldly
possessions beside him tied up in a ragged parcel. Suddenly he was on his knees,
the victim of a plastic bottle, blown into his path by the wind and causing him to
slip and then trip over the beggar’s swag. “For fuck sake” he exclaimed, “why
don’t you keep off the fucking street? Go find somewhere to hide where decent
people don’t have to look at you. Look at what you and your worthless shit have
done to my suit!” He spat the words in the beggar’s general direction but then
spun around to find himself looking directly into the grimy face of the owner of
the “worthless shit”. He was expecting at least some response, a mumbled curse
or a clenched fist but he got none of that. Instead the object of his anger and
contempt simply smiled sadly back at him with eyes that seemed to penetrate
the deepest crevices of his inner being. Apart from his ragged clothes, dirty
appearance and shoulder length grey dreadlocks, the beggar was roughly the
same age as the lawyer and he could not help but feel a strange sense of kinship
with this piece of “failed humanity”. Still, he had places to go and picking
himself up he mumbled an apology and tossed the man his loose change then
hurried off down the street, head down against the driving wind and rain.
The warmth completely surrounded him like a cocoon and was such a change
from the bitter cold of that Melbourne street. He just wanted to lay there
forever and indulge himself in the luxury. It was finally the noise that roused
him, he suddenly realised that he had not just woken from a long sleep on some
sun-drenched beach in Lemnos? But where was he? Where was his family? As
he squinted through blood–shot eyes he could make out the blurred shapes of
people in white uniforms moving about with purpose and intent. They were
talking to one another, banging and clattering equipment as they went about
their daily routine. Then it struck him, it was a hospital........why was he in a
fucking hospital?
He remembered nothing at all about the accident; he had not seen the car that
struck him! In an instant his world had had been turned upside down. Suddenly it
was nine months later and, despite the odds, he had survived and miraculously
regained consciousness. He was alive but the cost had been horrific and the
world had moved on during the time he was in a coma. His important assignment
had to be completed so it was reassigned to a more junior member of the firm.
His wife had dutifully remained by his bedside for months but had finally
succumbed to the pressure and stress of waiting and worrying and moved
interstate, back to her family. Without an income the bank had called in the
mortgage and their comfortable house in leafy Camberwell now belonged to the
bank. The phone calls and messages from concerned friends and workmates had
stopped long ago and he was painfully aware of how alone he was, his world had
collapsed. In a coma for nine long months, it was to be yet another three months
before he was well enough to be discharged from hospital. Long sessions of
physiotherapy would help but the process would leave him exhausted. Despite
his best efforts at a full recovery the brain damage sustained in the accident
stubbornly remained. And the headaches became a constant companion.
The day of his release from hospital was, ironically, the anniversary of the
accident. It suddenly occurred him that he had nowhere to go, no one that
cared for him and no money with which to support himself. So, carrying all that
he owned, he returned to the city, the only place where he really felt
comfortable. Maybe he could get his old job back. He rode the train to the city
and, with difficulty, climbed the stairs from the underground station to the
surface. As soon as he stepped from the shelter of the subway entrance he was
immediately hit by the cruel torment of yet another Melbourne winter. His
words of a year ago echoed in his brain. “Fuck it was cold! Why anyone in their
right mind would spend August in Melbourne was beyond him.” As soon as the
light started to fail and the grey afternoon turned into an inky evening, he
panicked. He quickly made his way to the office but no one seemed too
interested in him at the old firm. Sure they were happy to see him on his feet
again but they were far too busy with other important matters to talk for long.
With a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach he made his excuses and
hurriedly left. What would he do? He had very little money for food and
certainly not enough for a decent motel so he made the toughest decision of his
life; he had no option but to sleep rough. Not that he wanted to sleep out mind
you, but just for tonight. Tomorrow he would look for work and get himself back
on his feet. Little did he realise that tough decisions would become a part of his
everyday life from here on in, decisions and choices that had to be made simply
to survive.
There was no point in getting back on a train to nowhere, so he collected a few
scraps of cardboard from the alley behind his old office block and looked for
the nearest doorway that would give him some protection from the weather. His
inspection revealed quite a deeply recessed doorway, deep enough to escape the
wind and driving rain, and not directly under the harsh glare of the streetlights.
He cursed to himself, there was already someone huddled up in there but they
would just have to share, he was in no mood to be stuffed around. He made his
way to the doorway with his few possessions and found himself alongside
another miserable creature, just like him. It took some time and jostling to get
comfortable, his new neighbour not happy to be awoken from a deep sleep. He
was expecting at least some angry response, a mumbled curse or a clenched fist
but he got none of that.
He seemed to recall the grimy face and the long grey dreadlocks. The eyes were
fixed on him, steady and unblinking. “Do I know you?” he demanded.
No answer, the object of his anger and contempt simply smiled sadly back at
him with eyes that seemed to penetrate the deepest crevices of his inner being.

Saturday, 19 March 2011

Spider Words by Christine Anne Borra

Spider words upon the page
Creeping silent through the maze
You look and see them climbing out
You understand but then you doubt

The very old and spindly prose
Unformed thought, not quite disclosed
You look again and think you see
Spider words, not divinity

Dip again, if you think you ought
Are spiders creatures of great thought
And dip again, don't brush away
The spiders that you read today

Moments pass how do you feel
Did you reflect or will you steal
You ask yourself what did you glean
And ask again, what spiders mean

Friday, 18 March 2011

Write me a Poem by Christine Anne Borra

write me a poem
so I can let your words
caress me
so I can take your words
deep inside me
so I can let your words
linger on my lips
and make me smile

write me a poem
so I can let your words
move me
so I can let your words
show me you
so I can let your words
join us
forever in your rhythm
and muse

write me a poem
so I can let your words
heal me
so I can let your words
water my soul
and bring new meaning
to my life

write me a poem
so I can let your words
be spoken out loud
so I can let your words
etch in my heart
and you will never die
but live forever

write me a poem

My Cafe by Christine Anne Borra

There is a wall at the end of my cafe standing, strong
Despite the clinging, vines
Entwined togetherness growing, deep
Foundations support the heavy weight, burdened
Natures blooms mingle with loving life, flourishing
Until they grow no more, dying
In singular grace departing, life
Unaware of the hidden support, leaves
Falling only to nurture, growth
Springing forth bravely again, hopeful
Life lives on in my cafe, garden

Thursday, 17 March 2011

A Work In progress by Christine Anne Borra

The man woke up at the very first sign of light.  He was always the early riser in the house-hold. He was feeling quite pleased with himself as “Today was the day.” Conveniently it was the weekend and there would be no distractions. He had cancelled all visitors and he was ready to make a start.  Quietly he slipped out of bed, leaving his wife to snore on.
  First things first, he was hungry and dying for a cuppa. He pulled on his old pants with smudges of paint and smiled to himself. “Soon there’ll be artist’s paint on these old track pants,” and not the white paint already there from last summer’s house painting effort, which by the way was nearly finished.
 The morning light was now streaming invitingly through the glass doors that opened out to his deck.  The back-yard was coming alive with busy bursts of birdsong attracted by the abundant native trees that mostly had self-seeded.  So, the garden was a bit of a jungle and the layout fitted his natural gardening style, much to his wife’s disappointment. He would have none of that manicured stuffy self-serving design that all his neighbours seemed to get into.
  His lawn needed mowing, and maybe he would do that tomorrow, but not today, as today he planned to start his Masterpiece. His wife would be surprised.  She had often nagged him about starting up his painting again as he had taken Art at College, but had lost interest when he left to go on his O.E. instead of going to Varsity. “A waste of talent,” she had often said.
With a cuppa in hand and a plate of toast, he opened the doors to his nearly completed new deck and walked carefully so as not to move the last few boards that still had to be screwed down. His tea steamed in its mug, and the smell of the hot toast and butter added to the early morning enjoyment he was feeling as he settled into his comfy chair under the partly covered eaves. Next year when it rained he would be able to sit anywhere he pleased on his deck as he was in the process of extending and covering the eaves. This was very tricky work and required a lot of thought and planning due to the angles and run off. He had made an honest start, but then the rains of September had come and he was forced to stop. He would get around to it again soon.
He settled into his old wicker chair, listening to the song of the cicadas. His old ginger Tom Cat walked through the high grass and jumped up on to the deck and wound his way to greet him.  “Hello Ginger,” he said as he rubbed him behind his ear. “Are you after your breakfast?” he enquired. “Come on then.”  He put his mug down on the deck avoiding the partly finished table with battens missing. He was in the process of rebuilding the table, but he had run out of nails, and hadn’t had time to get to the store before it closed. “Just get a new one”, suggested his wife.  As it was a perfectly sound frame, he had ignored the comment. He still wasn’t sure whether he should be using screws instead. He had decided to look at his building book to see what it recommended, and it was still usable. A loud pathetic meow rose up from Ginger bringing him back his task at hand. “Come on then hungry,” he said to as he got up and went into the kitchen.
Settling back in his chair again he could hear Ginger’s contented purr as he gave himself the once over. The Jelly Meat had filled a gap for now, but you could bet he would be hungry again in a few hours.
  Now he could start to plan his Masterpiece. He had always liked the artist Robin Kahukiwa.  Maybe he would start with an abstract garden scene, koru and the like, since there was so much inspiration in his little jungle, or maybe a bird, or Ginger perhaps? But first he must have one more cuppa, then he should get cracking, as he wanted to capture the morning light that gave everything that fresh new look.
  Quickly popping into the kitchen he put the kettle back on the stove. It was one of those whistling ones, and he could get his painting gear out from the shed while he waited. He walked back through the open doors, over the deck and stepped down on to a pile of bricks. They had been placed there Just for the meantime, or until he could work out how to build three steps. They had to be wide enough for two people as he constantly had visitors popping in and out for a chat, much to his wife’s annoyance. On a good day you would be able to sit on the steps with a beer and chat and discuss the merits of a well kept lawn, rugby and the next fishing mission. The grass wasn’t much chop at the moment, however he had big plans. “Every man needs his patch of lawn.” It would be his only exception to his landscaping rules. He walked through the lawn to his shed - well the lawn was really a mixture of dandelions and puha and grass gone to seed and was bare in a few patches. He would be re-seeding it soon, judging by the weather forecast he should be able to start digging up the top layer as he planned to start from scratch. Then he would have a “Cracker” of a lawn. A lawn you could lie on and watch the clouds race by, and when the grass was cut he could sit on his steps and warm his feet like he used to do when he was a kid.  But for now he manoeuvred through the tall weeds shed bound, dodging hidden bits of wood from the deck he had built, well had nearly built, close to anyway.
His shed was an old white shed, with peeling paint, and you had to lift the door and push it in to get the key to work. It was only temporary, he would get a new one when the lawn was finished, and there was no sense in doing that first as he may want a bigger one to put the new lawn mower in. His old push mower was almost antique and he was sure he could sell it to a collector as it still worked, even though the right handle had come loose and turned in your hand every time you pushed it.
  “Now where did I put you,” he muttered as he looked for his long forgotten box of paints, brushes and paper?” He talked to himself as he often did. “There you are.” The box was hiding down on the floor near the hydroponics planter he bought last year to grow basil in. Home made pesto had been the plan as the store-bought stuff wasn’t a patch on home-made, and even better, it was a quarter of the price.  But home-made took a lot of time. The plan had been to make enough to freeze, but he went away for the weekend and forgot to get the boy next door to water it and all the basil wilted and died. It had been a bit of a hassle really. 
  Peering into his box of painting paraphernalia, he mentally checked the contents that were mostly left over from his college days. “Brushes, pallet knife, paper, charcoals, rubber, and new paint tubes,” that he bought last year. “Green, brown, red ochre, white, black, black,” he couldn’t believe it. He was sure he had black, he felt sure he would need it. What would he do now? He couldn’t possibly start if he didn’t have black. The main theme he felt almost sure now was black, he could see the painting, big bright bold, with black edges lining the colour. How could he paint Ginger without black. No, this was not good. He sighed as he stood up placing the tubes of paint he had in his hand back into the box. “Bugger, this will never do,” he muttered.
  So, closing the door behind him, making sure to lift it up and slam it as hard as he could, he walked back through the long weeds, up on to the deck, avoiding the uneven bricks that masqueraded as steps, on to the deck, avoiding the last few planks that needed screwing down, through the open doors to the whistling kettle that screamed at him.
  “What have you been doing?,” called his wife from the comfort of her bed. “Nothing,” he answered and he moved to make her a cuppa as well.  She would get up soon and would interrupt him anyway. “Never Mind,” he said to himself as he settled down for his second cuppa of the morning. “It will just have to be ‘A Work in Progress’.”

The Campfire by Gary Fortington


Ned poked at the fire with his boot to rekindle the flame; obediently it
burst into life, showering sparks in all directions. Father and son sat,
gazed into the fire, and yarned as the night closed in around them. Their
muffled voices and soft laughter were intermingled with the sounds of
the bush and the crackling of the fire. Unconcerned about the two
visitors, life in the bush continued on as it had done since time began.
Ned was sad, this would probably be the last time he would share a fire;
he was old now, tired and worn out. All the years of struggle trying to
scratch an existence out of an unrelenting and uncaring land had finally
beaten him. So with the love of his life now gone; there was no real
reason to go on.
In the warm glow of the fire he recalled how, as a youngster, he set his
first fire. It was at a “special place” that he and his mate had discovered
while out hunting rabbits. It was a place so special that, they were sure,
no one else had ever been there before them. Their first attempt was a
disaster; most of the wood was just too large and too green to burn. They
soon tired of scouring the bush for suitable fuel. The old man’s lips
creased into a soft smile as those memories came flooding back. Back
then Ned didn’t care much about the fire anyway. He was always too busy
chasing a rabbits with his dog or skipping stones across the creek or
racing his horse down the rough bush track and into the valley. At this
time in his life he needed no fire to keep him warm. Ned felt his face
flush, was it the warmth from the fire or was he a little embarrassed
recollecting those clumsy, boyhood days?
The next occasion Ned lit a fire at his “special place” was when he was
seventeen and he was there with the first and only girl in his life. He was
trying very hard to impress her so he built a huge bonfire that burned
furiously. The fire was so big that the flames licked dangerously at the
low hanging branches of the surrounding gums. Smoke billowed and
swirled around the fire before finally disappearing off in a thin wispy
trail into the sky. But despite its size and ferocity, the fire could not
match Ned’s own intensity and passion for this girl, the girl who was to
become his wife and best friend for more than forty years. The sparks
spat in all directions and the smoke danced out of control around the fire.
So engrossed were the pair with each other that they neither noticed or
cared.
It was not until many years later when on a hunting trip with his young
teenage son that Ned set his next fire. This was a small fire, purposely
designed to teach his boy about bushcraft and the need to preserve the
bush. Ned had shown his son where to collect the best firewood. He
showed him how to build the fire in the shape of a pyramid so that the air
circulated and the fire burnt with very little smoke. The final result was
a very efficient fire that reflected the skills Ned had learnt from his
own father. Using just enough fuel to cook their evening meal and keep
them warm against the cold night air, they sat and talked. They shared
the conversation, Ned recalling his own childhood experiences of life on
the farm and the boy sharing his dreams for the future. After an hour or
so the boy fell silent. His father bent lovingly over him, kissed him, and
tucked his blanket in around him.
With the children now grown and moved away Ned and his wife visited
their “special place” many times, they fished and spent long hours walking
through the bush spotting the many different types of birds and animals
that lived there. They built a different campfire during these days, one
that reflected the love they had for one another. It was not as large and
intense as when they were high-spirited teenage lovers nor was it as small
or efficient as the hunter’s fire. The fire they shared together kept
them as warm as toast and burnt with a glow that softly lit up the bush
around them. They sat side-by-side holding hands and staring into the
fire, not speaking and, after all these years, not needing to speak. Now,
without warning, she had been taken from him.
After what seemed an eternity Ned again poked at the fire with his boot
to rekindle the flame………but the fire had died. Ned sighed, rolled deep
into his swag and wearily closed his eyes.

Tuesday, 15 March 2011

Stone Poem by Christine Anne Borra

Silent Skipping stone
Skimming smooth surface
Six steps surviving
Soft sea settles
Slow sinking secrete
She smiles softly

In the Garden by Christine Anne Borra

From the corner of my eye I saw a movement
When I turned to look, it scuttled on its way
It could have been a mouse
Heading home to its warm house
Or a bird chasing sandflies at play

Next day as I was in the garden walking
Something flitted right before my eye
But when I turned to look, it disappeared quickly
Much to my disappointment and surprise

That same night I went a hunting in the garden
 Down the farthest end past the garden shed
 Creeping softly as not to make a sound now
 Creeping softly while all children were in bed

The night was warm and airy and as I rounded
The old shed much to my surprise
I saw a gathering of fairies dancing
Prancing and riding fireflies

They danced all night and rode until the morning
 I watched until the breaking of the day
 And with the early morning sun a warning
 They scadoddled off on their merry way

So next time you are in your garden walking
And see a movement from the corner of your eye
You never know your luck I am a warning
It might be a fairy riding on a firefly