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Sunday, 17 March 2019

Three more Poems from my repetoire




A Sailors Moon

Twenty six years, where's it all gone,
starting alone, finishing alone,
but many memories along the way,
happiness found, swinging hip sway,
many occasions and none too soon,
none more wise than a Sailors Moon.
Sunny career, full of light,
sunrise to brighten up the dreary night,
many friends and faces true,
so many I can't remember who,
and if any had been mixed up by the spoon
they'd all be wiser in my Sailors Moon.

Many ships on many seas,
too many times, drunk on my knees,
too much forgotten from the night before,
waking in the morning on someone's floor,
totally smitten with women who swoon,
totally belittled like a Sailors Moon.
Very tough those seas so rough,
nary seasick while others had had enough,
working hard, time while's away,
every ship working strong, all the day,
making life's travesty a happy croon,
singing a song to a Sailors Moon.





Dark Side of the World or is the Earth flat?

I woke up this morning,
alarm clock ringing - nine a.m.,
lifted the blinds,
it was still dark outside,
turned on the radio, talkback
and everyone was crying,
the world had stopped.

Looked in the mirror, I was still the same!

Lived on the Dark Side of the World now
wondered if brightside pioneers were curious
as to how we lived over here,
smiled laconically to myself,
a darky, like half the population
or would they move daily to equalise?

I lit a smoke, and shone for a minute.

People no longer called their kids Sunny,
or punched arms and said "hey there Sunshine"
no, we just wonder if the earth was flat out dying
and called ourselves darkies anyway,
I met a brightside on honeymoon,
he was amazed!

Electricity charges are higher now and there are always
two moons on the highway coming at you.

Skin cancer rates are down,
hospitals full of those with eye problems,
birth rates are up, bed time all the time,
yet we don't miss the sun excepting
for all the dead trees and plants, and yes
we have to import food from Brightside,
they don't mind, they understand.

The world stopped, yet life went on.

Did I tell you about the weather?
Next time maybe.



The 12 Hour Timesheet

i.

Forgive the language
it’s about to explode
all over the page
all over the fucken road

ii.

I mated with a black witch
we had a grey child
yet our lips are pink
when mingling

iii.

there’s this old cunt
lives down Framby Avenue
he’s been tormenting children
that stop at his door begging for fun.

iv.

my baby floats in jello
she’s fucked her life badly
I try to rescue her daily
but teasing old men suits her fine

v.

lettuce leaves covered in snail trails
I was and clean
dusting off spam
apple seed coverings
today the fucking light shone black


vi.

ok so he screwed her big time
the life of a sailor hazardous
gonorrhea and herpes
maybe even a punch in the head
till dawn drunken matelots
service the netherworld women
and them they.

vii.

capsicum, green, yellow, red
mixed with mince
a drop of Dolmios
and onions to kill for
a delicious mixture
served with macaroni.

viii.

i delighted in ecstasy
fucked this island virgin
on a beach white
from coral and sun,
we humped like baby pigs
till dawn’s light
she told me - in Tongan
she loved me,
i said thank you, and ran


ix.

the valve on the old radio
sparkled and warmed
the station too sketchy
to tune into.

x.

remorse, I’m sorry
the language so guttural
so esoteric sailor speak
the black humour
a thing to cherish
a dead person
treated like shit
just because we are alive,
pass the remote,
I need to sanctify.

xi.

ok so I went
from the New House
to the outhouse,
my time on the streets
magnified
by days in dust
and rubbish bins,
a passing stranger
treated like crap,
like the turd they are,
they have a life
mines exorbitantly dashed.

xii.

i sometimes lie on my back
under the spreading Kowhai
a Tui wings it’s way in
pecks at the flowers,
a bird song of pure joy
emanates into the ether
summer this year fine
with nature singing “all’s well”

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