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Dunstan Carter


The Lemon Tree

The sun whispered
In the garden
As nature throbbed,

A single hummingbird
Fluttered
Frenetic,

Flies buzzed all fussy
And the wind
Tickled leaves,

As we wandered
All dazed.

A warm blooded sky,

Hot light flickering,
The weird
Clicking crickets

And their hypnotic
Racket

Flowing and growing
Like an orchestra
Thrumming,

A dizzying oddness
Pausing our thoughts.

We held hands
And stared straight at

A single fruit sitting
At the heart
Of a lemon tree
Singing,

Simple and high pitched,
An odd waspish whistle
Of witch giggles
And wonder,

A strange treasure plundered,
A sour delight;

It was wondrous,
Peaceful,
A beautiful sight,

God knows how we got there
But this drink
Now tastes right.

Distant Song

It’s those icy pavements
And the shock of white breath
As it leaks out your mouth,

Chimney smoke joining the sky
And the rise of chatter in bars,
Calm a distant song;

Down the high street

A grocer returns
To the pavement to holler
His multi-buy deals
Like he’s never felt woe,

The butcher chops steaks
With a whistle and shimmy,

The corner shop kids
Scream laughter all wild

And the local post office is all
Cards, queues and hustle.

You pull in hard
On those first winter breaths,

You haven’t left
The house in months
And your long uncut toenails
Bend sore against your shoes,

Your knees quiver slightly
And your skin hangs all dry
Like creased denim,

A wincing sadness in your eyes
Like a 5am drunkard
Stumbling through bird song.

You compose yourself slowly
Look up at the clouds
And see geese fly,

There’s the smell of logs burning
And a calm, distant song
Somewhere,

The goosebumps
And the memories,

The cold you’ll move to warm.

Reformed Meat

As a cockeyed dear brat
He liked to flee
From enchantment,

He would guzzle
On the edges of joy

And remove the keenness
From every moment

Until just the gristle shined.

Exhausted in the backyard
With his gang of made-up friends,

All pristine garbed
And lost in a vague sky,

He would sit mildly morose
Most mornings,

Trapped in a hometown gloom.

Whispering songs of distaste
And wandering dust clouds,

On the very cusp of fantasy,

All bitter and broken,
Dry lipped and Catholic,

He was bird song to the tired,

A single peg
On an old washing line,

A moulded meat on the side
Waiting for signs

The Last Leaves

Sometimes words linger

Like the last leaves decaying

In an old wet park

Picture

Dunstan Carter's Profile  
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Whys Can Sigh

I looked deep in her eyes
And saw nothing but you,
I pieced together
The words she unraveled,
Bored and obtuse,
I turned them into song
And sung soft till the walls
Took your shadows,
Brought your scent here
To remind me I’m drifting,
A cornucopia
Of imagined birdsong
Greeting you
In these windows reflecting,
Distant whispers,
The hours we spent here
Talking wet rhymes and laughter,
The guessing games
And the patter,
Does it matter
I was wrong?
Whys can sigh
And then rise
Now you’re gone.

Second Draft

Demonstrations,
Cars on fire,
A battle for power,
The shivers of time,
Goosebumps
And hindsight,
Human nature rotating,
The cantankerous cackle
And the rattling pockets
Of the men who made good
As streets burned
And sons died.
The bloodiest day
Of a fictional war,
Apocalypse
With a twist,
Lost heroes
And the gossip of gunfire,
The clatter of half truths
Cracking and snapping
The playwright’s
Drawn mind,
And the rippling gripe
That the things he hates most
Are the most true and humbling,
A history crumbling,
And he’s never been paid
To just lie.

Blink

There are words
All over the floor,

A dustpan and brush,

Awkward,
Swollen pauses,

And a silent,
Two person queue
For the bathroom.

We let each other talk
Between the barrage of sighs,

Confused monologues crackling
Like refrigerated bonfires,

Explanations rattling
Like loose roofs on a train -

Then nothing
But the whistle
Of the wild winds outside
And the gentle rumble of stomachs.

Your food is in my freezer,
Your shoes are in my hallway

And you’re getting up to go.

The door closes,
And I stare out at nothing
Till there’s nothing left to fear,

Till the something I felt
In the blink of an eye

Is forgotten
Like most things
Once cherished.

Silence Falls

Sometimes silence falls
On the cusp
Of fading laughter
And sticks,

Just people left staring
Through windows slowly misting,

A crow on the phone wires,

Gentle rainfall
And the sound of cars
In the distance,

Driving somewhere
Less tense.

Sometimes we eat
Till we’re sick,

And then wonder why,

It’s a less subtle sadness
If you’re the kind that compares.

Slumbering

She snores like a slumbering wolf,
Content in her snuffling rummage,

Gentle fumes of spent wine
Filling the room
Like a soft scented dream.

I lie listening peacefully
Wondering if she’ll wake herself,
Whisper a riddle and return

To her deep wandering rumbles,
The quaint breathy drones,

The kind that sound happy,
Lost in innocent times,

She’s a smile wrapped in blankets,
Sweet grizzles combined.

Comments?

***

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