Sunday 1 December 2013

Over Under threw down Up



Shaking with tiredness and pent up physicality
my body now the host to a mind
my mind now a slave to learning
information
jargon
scaffolding, pedagogy, context.

There are four walls surrounding this suburb
walls that don’t really exist.
The box me in
I feel claustrophobic
and I escape
only to find
that the trams are boxes of a different shape.

I haven’t seen the horizon or stars for days
it’s no cause for concern
I know they’re there
but the too too many people
and the far too too much to do
do not let them reach here.

I share this suburb with the bats
they screech and take to the skies
I sigh and take to the nightlife
nostalgia knocks and I let her in
present moments are distant
and I am remiss to discover that the cocktails tasted better in memory
and the summer time sunlight stretched longer.

Appreciating the workaholic lifestyle for the first time
the sounds of messy life become inaudible
as I sink deeper into the warm waters of over work
over stimulation
over enthusiastic
overwhelming tiredness, momentarily
I won’t let that lethargy take over, not this time
it has before
back in the days when I knew less about life and me.

These are some words
for those with sore back
broken hearts
big dreams
double beds.

The trees in this place are different since the drought broke
I see me in them
they sway unknowingly in the warm north wind.

Friday 25 October 2013

Sunny with a top of twenty six

A woman walks along the street in Barcelona. She is crying quietly, but she does not allow the sadness to infect her walk, or posture,  her quiet outward display of inward emotions. It is her contorted face, streams of unwipable tears that give her secret away.
A child, her child I assume, walks by her side, hand in her hand, eyes directed forwards staring into an infinity of the street ahead of her. The child stares into the future and the past.
Besides the woman walks a man, I guess her younger brother. He can see the cars and pedestrians and bicycles that are invisible to those he walks with. He is in the present. He is The Rock.
The woman pushes open the door of Burger King. They exit the street, and enter the fast food joint. Comfort food.
Another story, in another life that you and I will never know.

Tuesday 17 September 2013

How To: Write



Move slowly across the words
sink them into the page
one at a time
caressing each silent syllable as it becomes part of the whole.

Don’t waste words
but in the same way don’t cram them together
or meaning might get lost
in fast acting quicksand
in crowds of thick thoughts.

Write poems to get drunk on
indefinitely.

Saturday 14 September 2013

reflections on leaving Perth



The worst part of leaving
is all the goodbyes
all the people
who understand me
who I am
who have offered unconditional love.
The worst part of now
is that I can’t stand
being around anyone
because the pain of goodbye
is weighing
too heavily on my shoulders.
Why do I keep doing this?
To myself
to my friends
why do I keep leaving?
It kinda feels
like it’s beyond me somehow
that by committing my life
to the ebbs and flows
to the tos and fros
to chance and opportunity
that it turns out that I didn’t choose to leave
but more like
there was little choice but to go
for the now
but I’ve said it before
and now
I’ll say it again
without any ego or pretext
that I do love Perth
and that I will be back.
The only thing
that hinges heavily on that remark
is that to move again may be too much.
I’ve done it before
and again
and again
and each time
it feels
more and more difficult to say goodbye.
It’s almost as if
there are two of me,
one of me craves stability
of location
of friendship
of routine
but the other me
fights without reserve
against the restraints of safety of stability.
And that’s not a bad thing
it’s been a great thing
it’s the thing that forces me
to travel the world
to try different jobs
to move to different places
not based on need
but based on adventure
and I get that
and I do love that
but leaving Perth
after my two year stint
I have just realised
how ingrained I have become
how much family I have here
related not by blood
but through shared experiences
interests
time
unconditional love
and I’ll miss my Perth family
but they give a reason to return
and I will
be back
brace yourselves.
It’ll be slightly glorious
but largely humbling
and the houses in Perth will be cheaper
because by then
the mining boom will be over
and we can surf
at trig
and camp on weekends
and soak up the sun
for nine months of the year
and even winter will be okay
because next time
I’ll have a good heater
and a car to get around.

-----

Thursday 29 August 2013

New Glasses

Do you see the significance of my new glasses?
It's staring you right in my face.

Friday 16 August 2013

Reason Reason



Continuous shutdowns
Flamboyant hats
Up-dos
Buttoned up
and the others

Granting hiatus for carelessness
but the consequence is yours
for the next
eighteen years
or so

Can’t pin your hopes on C-bombs though
or H-trains
or G-strings
a fierce farce
if ever there were one

Clamber up those stares
of marijuana pupils
as you watch the paranoia set in
but I’m only staring at you because you’re staring at me

Justification for this
Reason for that
the pile grows tall
then dissolves in the rain
and it always rains
in wintertime

Sunday 4 August 2013

Vanuatu

I lived in Vanuatu
for a short time
for a too short time
I don't talk much about it

Monday 22 July 2013

The Playground



Post card
with naked men from Pentecost island
and my scrawled words
stuck with a magnet
to their fridge
in Parkville

Thursday 11 July 2013

Two



About to face the unsleeping usurper of Satan
in your delicately balanced two-pound-per day lifestyle
a new corduroy hat
languid body sitting slumped against the red brick wall of despondency
laugh forever at nothing jokes.

The eaves droop in the heat and begin a benign one-two-one-two dance routine
disclosing desire, lust, love, hate and want, the price goes up
no two bets match
no two birds collide.

Fighting inevitability with teeth clenched, claws sharp, no-holding-back assuredness in the absurdity of it all.

The clasps tighten.
Laces all tied up.
Over and under and round and round-a-bout time to confess,
                                        buddy.

Friday 28 June 2013

Crosses

Haunting
A friend
Friends
Family

I realise
I too am followed
A prevailing childhood souvenir
Appearing in unexpected places
Constantly in the background
Imposing on everyday objects
A sign
A tree
A necklace

Demanding a conscience
And filling it with guilt
The body
The blood
The unholy human urges

Sometimes
Even
I feel an urge
To say grace



(The inspiration: once you see a crucifix once)

Saturday 22 June 2013

Uncolliding

Bending along curves
Discussing wealth & wisdom
Bury exposed hopes and pray for them
Prey in them
Engorge on them
But do not be ashamed
Apparitions follow us all when the lights are out

Just as despondency dissolved in the old days
Dance in the space
Underneath awareness
Soulless phenomenon
Sounding out the syllables
Disclosing nothing to many
And all to few

Feverish desolation at the curse of ego
The joy of ego
Don't go jousting the peasantry
Await a match worth you selflessness

Winery of the minds eye
Discover nothing
But blissful satisfaction
                                    of the now

Tuesday 18 June 2013

A Short One



Cracks in the carpet
Through which demons escape
Invisible but for their effect on the people they encounter

The Insensibility of Sensibility



The Insensibility of Sensibility (Aka Accidentally Jane Austin)

The problem is not asking questions
The other problem is asking too many questions
Either way
None of it makes sense

We consume baby cow food
We eat chicken periods
We watch far too many American actors
Our cars run on million year old animals and plants
Our children run on Apple© products
One in ten people in Australia live alone

That’s just the surface
Scratch it and the itchy addiction begins
Society’s a bore

We live long lives
Minimum physical complaints
Maximum mental ills

Thank God for the Modern World
Or
Should that be
Thank Richard Dawkins?

Sunday 9 June 2013

An Ode to Credit Cards



Oh hail the mighty credit card
You allow near endless purchasing power
You give strength to all your lucky disciples
Strength to shout drinks
Strength to dress well
Strength to walk confidently down the street
More importantly
You give hope
Hope that the bill will never have to be paid
Therein lies the majesty of the credit card
Oh! That hope
Endless, fickle hope

And for me
I just hope I never get one

Friday 7 June 2013

Rule-ing



Move through the colours
Listed
Named
Filed
Put aside

Take out all the pencils
Order them based on thickness, 
Softness
Give them letters,
Or numbers
Put them neatly away

Lists of animals
Places
People

Create a definition of beauty
Score every thing on a scale
Ordered
Concise
No need for discussion

The entire world
Intimately immaculate
Properly pompous

The whole thing becomes worthless

Thursday 6 June 2013

I am a miss



I am a miss
Not amiss
Not a “ms”
I am a miss

Why?
You ask
Women’s rights allow us to be called ms
You say
It’s the female equivalent of mr
You state
It removes the importance of marriage

I get that
I reply
But, I am a miss
And here’s why

I’m not married
I’m more than happy for people to know that
It is part of who I am

So give me the right to tick the “ms” box
But don’t you dare take away my “miss” box
Because I am a miss

Wednesday 5 June 2013

Arrogant Pigeon



Arrogant pigeon
Bobbing by like he owns the place
The toughest birds hang out in the city

Before I have time to mull over this thought and its possible metaphorical elegance, my attention is stolen away

A murder of crows
Ripping apart a dead mouse
A young guy walks by
Without noticing
Then a kid on a pink scooter and her parents
Each, in turn, missing the gory scene
All the passers by pass by
The crows continue to tear at the creature
And I watch

Monday 27 May 2013

Heard it before?



There’s the stuff about fame:

Spread your wings and fly
Achieve
Fame & fortune
Or at least your fifteen minutes
Make your mother proud

There’s the stuff about careers:

Live your life
By the books
Dotting the eyes and crossing the teas
Playing the game
Part of the rat race

But in the end:

Clichés pile up
The world keeps spinning
We close out eyes
And hope against hope

For just one
              original thought

Sunday 26 May 2013

A cube of black nothingness



A cube of black nothingness

We’re not sure where it’s come from

It just floats there,
a little above the floor,
staring at us through nothing eyes,
judging us through a nothing mind

We start to consider ourselves
how much we have in common with the nothing cube

As a result,
a nothing sound fills the room,
our eyes become nothing eyes staring at nothing
our minds have thoughts about nothing and fill with nothing


The nothing cube expands, then contracts as through it’s taking a breath,

then...

disappears into nothing