At Graeme’s (poem/repost)

At Graeme’s

the sun is here

but the cold wind blows

through the living room

windows

I stare out onto

a landscape

forever falling away

tiers of corrugated rooftops

& granite buildings

to a sawdust harbour

Dunedin sprawls

like a crumpled jersey

looking down or up

there’s always something

to see…

soft jazz on the stereo

& you sit tapping away

on your laptop

about climbing rocks

I am living on muesli bars

& honey nut logs

we are filling our time

with lines on pages

waiting

Joanne Fisher

This poem was originally published in the anthology Climbing the Flame Tree and first appeared on this blog in December 2017.

I bet when I publish this WordPress will condense this poem into one stanza as it is doing with all my poetry posts these days. If it does (and probably will) the second stanza starts at the line “soft jazz on the stereo”.

Dunedin is the second largest city in the South Island (Christchurch being the largest). It’s built on hills and has some of the steepest urban streets in the world. Occasionally I would visit friends there.

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©️2020 Joanne Fisher

Darkness II (poem)

Darkness II

i was one

of those people

that wasn’t wanted

by anyone

so i learned

to survive

on my own

with my scars

& cuts

& bruises

alone, I faced

a world that

had turned it’s

back on me

so i did

the same

Joanne Fisher

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©️2020 Joanne Fisher

First Letter (poem)

First Letter

It is only now

we have the

Tasman Sea

between us

I can safely say

I love you,

you write saying

you’re making burgers

for redneck hippies

& washing dishes

feeling like Siddhartha

becoming a merchant,

there are compensations –

bats & wallabies, strange

insects, gliding pygmy

possums & two metre

carpet pythons

the ocean is now

a part of your life

like a lover breathing

softly beside you,

here in Christchurch

I don’t hear the sea

boiling in my ears

anymore though

beaches are nearby,

our creativity saves us –

we do what we have to

& not let the bullshit

swallow us whole

I was never sure of

the way I stood on the earth

my shadow spirals

around me

gripping me

at the throat,

you write to say

you don’t love me

in that way

but your incandescence

breaks my darkness

you allow me

to breathe again

& I write you love poems

because you deserve it

Joanne Fisher

This was originally published in the journal JAAM and was first published in this blog in August 2018. It’s gone through a severe edit since then…

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©️2020 Joanne Fisher

Aalen’s Saga: The Hunter due out early 2021

All going well I hope to have the e-book of Aalen’s Saga ready in January/February. I’m not sure what platforms it will be available on yet, but I’ll keep you posted on where it can be found. If this project is successful, then I have further ideas for e-books, so this could be the first of many.

Currently I have a friend who is an artist doing a cover and some interior artwork for the book.

If anyone is able to provide links with step by step instructions on how to make and publish an e-book that would be greatly appreciated 🙂

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©️2020 Joanne Fisher

Kaikoura Rave (haibun)

Kaikoura Rave

My friends are on acid, moving in worlds I cannot penetrate. On the beach I build a driftwood throne so like Canute I can command the waves as they foam ashore. Kaikoura is a place to see whales and dolphins, or stone formations. Tonight the otherworld permeates the warm air; primeval rhythms pulse from the trees as everyone dances an invocation…

a new sun

fills

the sky

Joanne Fisher

This was originally published on my blog in April 2018 in a slightly different form.

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©️2020 Joanne Fisher

Exploring the Gardens (haibun)

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Exploring The Gardens

 

It is a hot day. Instead of catching a bus and heading home, I decide to go the long way and walk through the Christchurch Botanic Gardens. I haven’t been here since the earthquakes. Today is not a good day for me. My heart is troubled. I can’t stop thinking about her for some reason. She has been in my thoughts all day and I am full of sadness, regret, and pain. I hope wandering the Gardens might take my mind off her. So I go through the gate trying to lose myself in nature, but wherever I go I take her with me.

 

wandering the Botanic Gardens

stuck with you

in my thoughts

 

 

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Entering the Rose Garden I immediately see to my left a woman seated on the ground scoffing down food. She sees my glance and carries on munching. I head towards the sundial in the center of the garden. I know it is an hour later than what the sundial is saying, and remember when I posed for a picture at this exact spot with my brother and sister when I was a teenager. I then trip on the steps in front of two American tourists who stop their endless talking to smirk at me. There are roses of all colours in this garden, but the deep red roses are the ones that catch my attention.  I want to look at some in greater detail, but a couple are taking pictures of themselves in front of them. I flag it and leave them behind me.

 

sundial –

the sun not catching up

with Daylight Saving

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I head in the direction of the Water Garden with native plants and trees. On my way to the bridge there is a seemingly endless line of Chinese tourists going the other way. I do my best to move forward, but try to not get in their way. Eventually they all pass me by and I get to the little arched bridge made of stone. I’m dehydrated due to the relentless heat, but my body insists moving on. I pass sprinklers and let the water hit me so I can cool down. I lose myself down dark paths of ferns and tall trees looming in shadow.

 

water garden

Chinese tourists

flowing past me

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I’m aimlessly wandering now. I hope to find a gateway to another world amongst the oaks, sycamores, and silver birches. A few months ago I desperately wanted to leave this world behind, but I have healed a lot since then, yet part of me still wants to leave. In my tiredness I resolve to keep on moving and begin the journey home. I turn around and seek a path that follows the Avon and then cross the bridge that leads to the daffodil garden, which would be more colourful in the springtime. I survey the Gardens one last time from the Memorial Rotunda. Then I head along Hagley Park towards Riccarton and home.

 

homeward bound –

my spirit renewed

my feet sore

 

 

Joanne Fisher

 

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I’ve come down with a head cold, and it’s almost summer here… My head feels like it’s full of cotton wool at the moment.

 

This was originally posted on my blog in December 2017.

 

 

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©2020 Joanne Fisher