The Lucubratory Collaboratory » Clair Boyer Sat, 01 Mar 2014 11:57:01 +0000 en-US hourly 1 13/09/12 Mon, 17 Sep 2012 08:52:04 +0000 Cloudy wet days in early spring

are like hitting the snooze button

again… and again in the morning.
The sun shines for a day or two

and fills me and my city with dreams

of spring

time used productively

dancing into summer spent blissfully



And then slip, trip stumble back into cold.

Cozy thoughts of hibernation return

pushing in over thoughts of spring,

like morning rain washing away intentions

of getting out of bed….

leaving the house,

and actually doing anything.

Ugg, shrug, snuggle,

mumble something about doing it later.

Stare from bed out at the day,

windy trees and dripping eaves…


But the nap is a trap

I wake frustrated, gluggy and foggy,

cold house, bored doggy.

What happened to feeling inspired and elated?


I brew a pot of affirmation

my own take on herbal tea blends

from that elusive woman at the markets.

I mix “focus” with “nerve soother”

like drinking positive thoughts

as if to flush the wintery day away.

I need a tea called “Sunshine”

So I may brew and pour that

into my state of mind.

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Untitled Thu, 13 Sep 2012 08:51:03 +0000 Canberra?
Never been, but I know of the place,

hasn’t yet aged with taste,

A friend of mine went to uni there

and there’s lots of jobs, or so I hear.


…Yes that’s all that will bring you here

most born here soon flee the nest

and the rest…

They linger

held home by something

one can’t quite place a finger on

but eventually, resigned to see it through

they look beyond

and then they find

little deposits of culture

hidden among the degrees

and carefully planted trees

like moss, gradually peeking

through cracks in weathered rocks.

A patch of blue between thick clouds

and when you sat down to write a plea for pity

you found yourself writing a love poem to your city.

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Untitled Sun, 02 Sep 2012 08:50:15 +0000 My heart is a house with a chimney,

a door and a handful of crooked windows.

I burn candles in those windows

for all those

I have loved.


Their flames fill my chest

with warmth and light,

even of Canberra’s

coldest, darkest winter night.


But your candle lets off







My other candles begin to choke.


Fuck you.


I blow that candle out.

And welcome back

my light.

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