The Sound of My Neighbourhood

Obama is on the TV
I thought for a minute he was talking to me
But the world – on the TV – will always be there, right?
But our espresso machine is ready to go, right now
It gleams – at me
And I beam – at it
And I feel safe on our Ikea rug
Blowing air across my Costa Rican blend,
Robust, full-bodied, like a drug
More reliable than a human friend.

The door clicks behind you
And the house rearranges itself in the space you leave behind
Sounds like – ((sigh in))
And I wait to see
what the day will find
Because morning is open for business.
Morning had gotten up early next door
Widow weeping under an intolerant sun for the husband detained
Widow not really, except for a husband stained
He’s been detained
And the woman searches the bins
While the child sounds like I’m hungry

Next door to widow weeping
In the house that’s never sleeping
Live Mr and Mrs Don’t-know.
Mr Don’t-Know’s fist supposedly
Spelunked it’s way through Mrs Don’t-Know’s skull,
His foot canyoneering down her ribs
But we don’t talk of such things
Because we don’t really know.
Sounds like shhhhh

Next door to the Don’t Knows
Is the migrant woman who grieves.
Sounds like oh_ my_ god
And wears so much black that she is black and I feel black every time I look at her
Even though I’m white as a Barbie doll,
White as a diamond.
So white I sparkle and I offend myself.

In the middle of it all –
Like the world congealed
Because someone left the lid off compassion unsealed –
Is a park that curls up brown at the edges
Aint no kindness in these hedges
Just a brown park
Under a turquoise scrim
And in the screeching din
Of cockatoos
I kick off my shoes
and draw the curtains of my face.

I can smell the coffee from our house
A precise 30ml extraction of pure, washed Arabica beans
It makes me want to be smaller than I am
It draws me up, and it draws me in
And I feel myself rushing through the porta-filter
Getting smaller and smaller with all that hot air
Until all that is left is

I’m hungry_ Shhhh_ oh my God_ ((sigh in))



Filed under Art, Australia, Fiction, Love, Obama, Performance Poetry, Poetry, Sex, Writing

16 responses to “The Sound of My Neighbourhood

  1. i love this portrait…


  2. Michelle

    The last line of this is so stunning. It sounds like a song.


  3. Cool. I don’t remember seeing many Simonne poems before and this unrolls revealing a scene like a tapestry made of words and sounds and images. A Simonne poem! Yayaya, more more.


  4. I agree with Paul, More poems Simonne! Do you right much poetry? Post more! Please! The last line of this is fantastic, pulling all of the threads of the camera-panned morning together and forming a fantastic, though sad & longing, sound-scape.


    • Thanks Paul and Maxine. How wonderful to get some great feedback from my favourite poets!
      I don’t write a lot of poetry, no. It takes so much work; it’s such a difficult and exacting genre, and I think you’re either a poet, and you spend time honing the craft, or not. Maybe that’s silly, I don’t know. (But I do love performance poetry and would like to do more of that.)


  5. Very well done, we see so much when we open our eyes.


  6. Oh yeah!!! The first read was awesome. On the second read, I started getting chills through my spine. Written for performance, Simonne? I am going to read this out loud when I get home. Brilliant!!!


    • Thanks Brad! It was written for performance, yes. I performed it at last year’s Australian Slam comp in WA.


      • Brad, you took the words out of my mouth! Simonne, I can HEAR it in my head as I read it, it needs to be read out loud…not that it isn’t wonderful just on the page (or screen), but it’s so much more. But what else would we expect from a poet/novelist/playwright/actor/director/oh-bloody-jack-of-all-trades!!!!!? 😉


  7. Very beautiful. I liked this a lot.


  8. Uncle Tree

    This is very neighborly and quaint.
    The brew is very strong, and you gave it to us straight. The cream and sugar is there, but off to the side. Nice spread!

    I can see why Dhyan added you to his list.
    Nice to meet you, Simonne!


Leave a reply, start a conversation - go on, you know you want to!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s