Sydney Poetry

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I Can't Decide (or Rushcutters Bay)

Logos smeared in shimmering rouge

On a night-hushed harbour

The soggy blink and burst

Of fluorescent overtime

Cupping the tinkle-donk

Of tilting masts

Wildly pointing at the stars

In giddy accusation -

Skinned pets, parked

Waiting for Sydney’s

Working wealth to wake

…

Perched on cement

Soothed by the quiet

Moored like these yachts

In obedient patience,

I consider our trembling marriage

…

The bridge yawns gracefully above

House lights huddle

On a borrowed headland,

Camped conversations

Silenced by distance

And the inky black spill

Of still ocean

The water is a kiss or a slap

Against the city’s concrete rim -

I can’t decide.

12 members like this

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Permalink Reply by AutoPirate on February 28, 2012 at 23:47

Like the urban setting very much

the non-domesticana still evokes a carpe noctum.

thanks Skye.

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Permalink Reply by Julie-Anne Geddes on March 20, 2012 at 17:52

fantastic work - loved it!!

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Permalink Reply by Skye Loneragan on May 21, 2012 at 23:55

Thank you for your comment, belatedly!

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Permalink Reply by AutoPirate on March 21, 2012 at 12:51

Hi Skye,

Congratulations on winning The Sydney Poetry Prize!!!

In the words of The Smiths "I knew her first and I knew her well" lmao

From the poet, with two eye patches on, drinking vin vulgaire,

AutoPirate :))

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Permalink Reply by AutoPirate on March 21, 2012 at 12:55

Bridge yawns, borrowed headland...it's really great, monstrous!! Writing brimming with process: life.

Apologies for being a pig, but on revisitation it is worthy of Prize!

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Permalink Reply by GL on March 21, 2012 at 19:48

I really love this poem, too. It's very beautiful, very moving.

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Permalink Reply by Nicole on March 28, 2012 at 20:28

Congratulations Skye. It's a great poem. I particularly liked 'the tinkle-donk of tilting masts'. It's such a distinctive sound and I never would have thought of putting it into language that way.