“Rocking Horse,” “Returning” and “Earth to Man” are from A Deep Fear of Trains which can be ordered online in Paperback, CD or pdf format from Interactive Press
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For more poetry from Australia
Sara Moss
Rocking Horse
He wants to play
with iron and fire
but you don’t know the rules
and he won’t tell you
he just keeps on playing
’till your dolls fall
their clothing torn
their faces overpainted
their limbs twisted
and pulled apart
you hate his game
his toys spread out
in your playroom
he says he has permission
and he just
keeps
on
playing
he has another toy
a rocking horse
the wood splintered
lips drawn back
he wants to rock you
backward and forward
forward and backward
There are no screams
in the house of loss and haunted dreams
where the rocking horse
never stops rocking
in a room where your dolls lie broken
Returning
Gulls cry in the morning
salt grazes my tongue.
You never know
when you have everything
when health courses
through blood and tissue
when you are one
with the lapping tide.
It is later
when you’ve given up
even the dream of returning
made the bleak landscape
of city street your home
matched your soul
with the brick spaces
that count each square meter
measured your dreams
in similar shapes –
This one is money
and this one
is all the things
our money can buy.
But it can’t buy back
the dream of returning
to the place where his motor
churned up clean water
it no longer exists
in any place but memory.
Earth to Man
You will find me
in your own dream.
Recognise
my reed thin cry.
Your mouth opens wide
but no bass issues.
I am the hollow felt
beneath the ribs
you try to fill
with junk culture.
You feel me going –
already gone.
You remain ghosts
from a once bright
though insubstantial
pageant.
With the stage laid to waste –
the mind closes.
Life Signs
They’re scrubbing
the flightless birds
their wings struck with oil
as the ship heaves
its metal bowels
into a pristine sea.
To a world
it failed to deliver
its cargo of energy.
The breathing machine
rises and falls
a monitor bleeps its rhythm
and we wait
with our hearts in our laps.
A beak opens and closes
a soul that knew
the free air current
rises
rises.
Shine
Before us
Swirling gas
BIG BANG
Amoeba floating
From this
flowed everything
Still we look
for a better miracle.
One day
our mind
will hold
the secret.
Tongues will melt
Scales shine as
SWISH
we swim
free of the line.
Freedom Poem
(Federal election night, Australia, 2001)
1.
Tonight I’m in
a thin mood.
I could shave my head
slip into khaki
dance my protest
across the streets of this city
if only
my broken body
could release me.
So I’m sending my children out
to the healthy and well-dressed
to speak about poverty and illness…
To the politicians
to plead for justice…
To the economists
to touch the souls of the heartless…
To the Aborigines
to say sorry and ask for forgiveness…
To the refugees
with a welcome notice…
I’m sending my children out
to wrap the world
in the word…love…
to mend
our broken sky.
