Show Me The Treasure

Home Archive for 2010

at 22:44

Four Scenes from Room 4221

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Four Scenes from Room 4221 The Sato sign that buildstriangles of green neonnearly diverts from the grey bank of rain darkeningTokyo: 180C, 17:36. Two blocks away, twenty floorsof fish scale lights shimmeroscillating like starlight,a blue diamondat the upper left, a blur of redand white to the right – illegible. Red points blink on, on,on each of tallest

at 22:40

Umbrellas Day: The spoke’n world

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Clear plastic, odd florals, patterns, solidcolours, checks, one royal satin red, bring along their cargo of jeans, suits and gumboots, runningwith rain, topped with bamboo, metalor wood, a world of edged parabolas,one clear with pink spots,black for salary men. I see the same umbrella twice –good luck. Clear plastic, odd florals, patterns, solid colours, checks, one royal satin

at 22:34

Myogadani Subway Station, Maramouchi Line

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Myogadani Subway Station, Maramouchi Line Image

The embankment, concrete diamonds edged with moss, slopes down to the platform. Theo’s eyes, flick, flick,watching sleep coming,he falls asleep, elbowsresting on knees, chinresting on one palm, umbrellaheld loose in the other, The embankment, concrete diamonds edged with moss, slopes down to the platform. Theo’s eyes, flick, flick, watching sleep coming, he f...

at 21:53

Coffee Shop selling vintage railway paraphernalia

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Coffee Shop selling vintage railway paraphernalia Image

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at 21:02

Seeded Hearts Club

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After a little time the Stephanotis seeds blossomed into this shape.Viola!After a little time the Stephanotis seeds blossomed into this shape.Viola! After a little time the Stephanotis seeds blossomed into this shape.Viola!After a little time the Stephanotis seeds blossomed into this shape.Viola!

at 18:10

...and in my hand a perfume lies asleep.

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...and in my hand a perfume lies asleep. Image

Yesterday I picked out a cone of stephanotis seeds, a perfect fibonacci sequence of overlapping seeds. The thick seed case, about the size and shape of a mango, had dried, fading into a yellowish green and split open. The cone is held together by nothing but geometry and soon startd to slip apart revealing the cypselas - their

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Curiosity Cabinet

As a child I thought there was a jewel box hidden in my parent's house, I imagined there was a cache of pink cut glass rings - the ones with adjustable soft metal sizing - laid out in pink foam in the nailed tight plyboard box in my brothers' walk-in robe.

Years later, I realised the box was really the back of the bathroom cabinet. I got a lot of enjoyment out of those pink glass jewels that weren't there. Imaginery treasures are curiously satisfying.

Here is a central point where someone who might be interetested can see what bits of words, some links to work published in journals and ezines, and images that I have made.

Absent Knowledge

We are talking about knowing certain facts,

and he says, I know all that or used to,

it is only that I can’t remember.

Is this not knowing or forgetting

what you know? Perhaps the head holds

a trace of what was there,

perhaps it is there but can’t find

the way out; maybe it was there but left,

or there was a rumour that it was coming

but never did,

like the promised holiday ,

in Pennant Hills. At eight years old

I would lie in bed at night a hardly contained

precipice of anticipation that time

would take me to Pennant Hills and a big house

with a swimming pool. I can see

the façade of the house, the curve

of suburban street, where that house

I never went to might be - or even was.

Though I know I never went, maybe

somewhere, there is an unborn memory

of being there, and I am thwarted by absent knowledge

from enjoying what I did not do.

Carol Jenkins

From Voices from the Meadow Wollongong Workshop Anthology 2007 ( Five Islands Press)

Bambiraptor

The Going Down Swinging # 25 -special double CD edition has at last unwrappped itself in Sydney, with a lauch at the Last Bastion of Civilisation last Wednseday 25 September. I still don't know what is in this CD it apart from my spoken word poem Bambiraptor as I was incarcarated in an invention called Good Mummydom. I hope every one else had a good time at the launch party.

The fossil Bambiraptor’s importance in the evolutional of dexterity and the dissonant name gave me this rave by Blanche (Street Car Named Desire) - here she makes a play for Bambiraptor believing his tough and powerful persona is lined with tenderness, like Stanley. This poem is one of my bids to get fossils to colonise and take over the myth as the substratum of literature.

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