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Melaleuca

Number 17: November 2010 Editor: Phillip A. Ellis

Table of Contents

Yours Meg Canto 03

Duet Eileen Chong 04

Minuet Eileen Chong 05

At the Katz Graham Nunn 06

Last Malobi Sinha 08

Paradise Malobi Sinha 09

The Sea Malobi Sinha 10

All works are copyright by their respective creators, 2010; the arrangement of this collection is

copyright by Phillip A. Ellis, 2010.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works2.5 Australia License .

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Yours

no hands as yours

on my parts compelled

me more. the cat

in me purred, and

you were tall again.and my chocolate room

smelt of love again.

you built a house

of glass, afraid the night

might hide my face.

but i was weakest

at each appearance of the moon.

my dress would fall:

"mine" you said, catching

my covers."yours" i said, my centre

in your mouth.

Meg Canto

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Duet

after W.C.W.

The cat glows golden

in the afternoon light

It watches the birds dip

in and out of the tree

They call sharp warnings

from their pulsing throats

The cat watches the birds

The birds wing and cry

The sun falls across the yard

in honey-gold lightEileen Chong

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Minuet

for Camilla Chen

For you,

I should like to peel

a mandarin, its oval roundness

heavy in the palm. Warm, too,

if youll wait a while. I should like

to peel it slowly, to prise away skin

from flesh with movements

of my thumb. Stroke

the tender interior encased

in lace. Pull the whole

into halves: observe its shapely cheeks,the female parts. I know

each crescent will fit

perfectly in my mouth

(and yours). I can still smell

the citrus spray

in your poem (you showed

me once). This, here, our fruit

that I should like to peel. Backand forth my fingers rock. The orange.

My hands. Your words.

Eileen Chong

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At the Katz

i.

The insect that chirps here every night

tonight is chirping under the bed.

The insect sound is cold and constant as the rain

whispering outside the window.

The sound of this insect that nightly chirps

buries its loneliness inside me.

ii.

Of this place I knowthe window houses

three pigeons under the sill.

These birds scour the roof

each night for warmth

or whatever. Two are arguing

now, for a few inches of brick.

How the mind moves out when

there is only one glass for the seeing.

I stand at the window and mark

each bird, roof, spire as the boundaries

of the neighbourhood

they define. I am wearing

my favourite black coat. Every hour

I wipe clean my eyes.

iii.

It's after midnight and a young man returning

from late shift tests what strength

he has left by kicking a bottle against

the brick work of the front wall.

Son of a bitch, he mutters. He is the collective

curse on this night that reeks of tinned fish and TV.

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iv.

I am waiting for a poem, something

simple, undisturbed by curses.

Words that release themselves

from the night. Words that come

naturally, without aiming at anything.And while I wait, I will continue

to listen to the insects and birds

at the window, hoping for sleep to arrive.

Graham Nunn

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Last

The road is long

Full of rocks and

Stones, that cut

And rub beneath your

Feet like knives; TreadThem softly, slowly

For at the end

Of your journey lies

The light; it glows

From afar, beckoning

Always, keeping faith

Alive when all

Seems lost; keep

The faith alive

In yourself, and

The panacea isAt hand at last

Malobi Sinha

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Paradise

After all it

Is the night; The

Stars come out

To view the

Tragedy that isA life; Here

Today, gone tomorrow;

What is

The meaning

If our short hours

On this Earth

Cannot be lived

As an eagle

Swooping in the sky

Gliding all the

Way to ParadiseMalobi Sinha

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The Sea

All I am

Is a river

Ebbing and

Flowing towards

The sea; TheLight in my

Life the people

Who sit by

My banks

And talk to me;

The children who

Play in my

Blue waters

The birds and animals

That drink

Of me; The SunThat sets knows

My sorrows and

The Moon lends

Her hallowed light

To the darkness

That encompasses

My night; The

River I am

Will dissolve

All your trials

And tribulations

A river is all

I am

Flowing to

The

Endless sea

Malobi Sinha

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