today
i celebrate
the small the mundane,
the almost forgotten
the things overlooked
push aside in the busyness

the tiny rainbows captured
in drops of dew on emerald leaf

the order in a trail of ants
working toward one goal
with synergy of belief

the grace of small birds as they commute

the song of the humble bumble bee

the energy in a grasshoppers legs

the mathematics of the small cat
sleeping curled in upon himself

the reassurance of my love's heartbeat

the smell of sea and salt

the warmth of sunkissed rock

the tick of the old hallclock

the slow avalanche of sand
***** by speck
falling through my fist

coffee in my hands, toast in my belly

the smile of the small boy
from inside...beside me

today I celebrate these small things
and more

today I celebrate,  
become inebriate
on miniscule minutia

so the the big
and the overwhelming
have no say at all...

perched on the cusp of disaster
looking down into oblivion
but sit we here, safe and sound
in our box of bulletproof glass

watching fireworks explode
and planting landmines
of despair in the land of the free
and sometimes fair

spouting words into air
of greatness and fear
ignoring the lost and scared
counting down the hours
til we can count the money
from over on the otherside
of the world this long ago
stopped being funny

now I can see some say
stop throwing stones
cause your houses is glass too
and your place has lost it's happy day glo

and I say back...yes this is true
we dropped the crystal ball
and are picking up a thousand pieces
and looking for some super glue

but for the moment lets get back to you
perched there, on the edge of disaster
looking down the throat
of a beast ravenous,
with the ethics of a goat
wanting to create some mythical wall
and some mythical moat

his maw cavernous
his need and greed ravenous
down here whilst playing at jigsaw
we watch the polotical beast bloat
and we  kneel and pray,
that his speech is just rhetoric
and this world don't fall
into war .....
as he cries wolf speak words
of the morally bankrupt
and compassionate poor
and his words of greatness
grate and draw, tears of sadness
from those cleaning up the gore

fingertips,
twitch itch and burn
with need

need to touch
torch-hot flesh
to feel, white-hot soul
ooze through thin-skin membrane

toungetips rake softlips
stealing murmurings
of heart and head
leaving desire
simmering  there instead

yearnings, deeper delvings
desperate dionysion delusions
draining staining steaming seeming
never ending mind bending soul rending ***

stealing silent sombulent kissses
of fearful guilty farewell
trip tip-toeing doors silently closing
need hosing, shamful moseying away
from who the....what the...oh hell!

fingertips tapping drumming
hunover mind blown but still hummin
no excuse away from home and lonely
awaiting the bill, cash only,
cause credit be evidence of crime of illicit time

now despondent knowing heart-sore
bad to the bone core, never wash away rime
dang, stuffed up to one's own detriment
balancing on earth-quaking, slip-sliding
no-place, nowhere to be hiding, mudsliding firmament
thinking deep, dark, stark stupidity rules
now just me the jester and the fools
all counting the cost and consequence
of one night, tispy cheap drunk nasty, nasty  thrill

books
stacked
atop
the table
holding them down
one skinny scrawny halfcat

upon sighting me
he scramble leaps
sending
books skidding helter skelter
across the table, gathering speed
like a sideways avalache
of pens paper, coffee cups,
plates of toast, random jams and cereals
all heading for the dead drop
of Calamity Pass A.K.A the floor

god boy watching with mouth agape
as tabletop avalanche, obeying
both physics and gravity
come to an ungodly
Pollack painting end on cleanish tile floor.

on fridgetop
scrawny halfcat
stretches, shows the world
his best downward dog
and gracefully leaps to cleanish
living room floor
before departing outside...
to terrorize the grasshoppers

heatwave

night air barely sighs
heatwave

bodies lie far apart
on sweat damp sheets
heatwave

tuxedo boy sleeps
spread eagled, legs asprawl
on wet shower tiles
heatwave

the god child
twists and turns
in superman ******, under
mosquito-net blown by fans
heatwave

outside small things
bathe & scurry through waterpans
placed on fast dying grass
and larger things drink
gulping mouthfuls from the pond
heatwave

and we all await the breeze
and the small hours of the night
when the temperature drops
when the air cools enough
so as not to stifle breath,
anger minds, open lips
leaving hurt behind

heatwave

old friends gather
tied together
by lines of
silver silk
memory

threaded from
heart to heart
embedded in thought
and action

actor trained
like the rhythm
of drumming fingers
on raked stage

toungue twisted greetings
bring saltwater to eyes
searching for the mentor

a congregation of etudes
belies, the sadness,
laughter hides the absence

shared memory,
memories shared
bring life into focus

years pass by
but still, the silk threads
play the heartstrings
and still we raise our
eyes in ritual goodbyes

and hug each other closer
til the next gathering
old friends remembering
the good times

cool air caresses my
too warm body as
I stand at the
window

watching the play of
moonlight on
seawater

fruitbats and boobooks call
across the valley
out, foraging in the
night light I see them
sweep across the sky
shapes dark and sinister
against the dusting of star glitter

behind me man and cat curl
into tighter *****, seperated by
doona  mountains

I stand letting the breeze cool
my skin, and await the
next shadows rise and fall
upon the deepening darkness
of  the summer sky