States of Poetry WA
from the Tibetan meaning 'to build' or 'to construct'
In 1992, Alice made a Tulpa.
Carry an amulet. Kiss its three sharp corners. Shine.
It began subjective, but with practice could be seen: imagined ghost that flickered in the physical world, a sort of self-
Recall the chalk clouds. Recall the scent of ...
(found in rubble beneath a church — New Norcia)
Distempered walls crowd in cold at the old
schoolroom, resonant with the chant of times
tables, scrape of chalk on slate; a nun might
have leant over a child, white dust on her cuff.
This afternoon, light from a slit window catches
a silver crucifix and reflects onto the dome
of glass cabinet, li ...
Tenement Building (black & white photograph)
Chris Kilip, Tate Britain, 2014
you view the house from across the street
part of a terrace it fills the frame
the roof is cut off no sky dim light
upstairs a balcony
After you died, Nana, I went to your room,
it was dark like that place beneath the breakwater
where barnacles cling and children never dare hide
I opened a blind, a stuck window, breeze fanned
and fanned the room, light across your dressing-
table, triple mirrors. Amidst perfume bottles,
hairbrush, amber beads, your art deco box,
walnut with inlaid mothe ...
Sadness overwhelms me in this circle of cut
flowers; some face me, plead for help, but if
I were to cradle one tulip-heavy head in my palm
like a premature baby, would its petals (that remind
me of my mother's skin when she was old) fall
to the floor? Others turn away in a dried blush
of shame. Just a few plump bodies flaunt sheen
on velvet cloaks, ye ...