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betterdays Mar 2014
the alluvial terra firma
appreciates
the pluvial troposphere
of the lunar differentiate

siphoning all
in a parched gluttony
leaving behind a viscous
residue
and few glassine portals
into a reflective world
betterdays Aug 2014
on a wet morning
at the university

the library is full
of  people in need  of
a place to dry out...

in the quad, people
rushing from here to there
the bins full of dead and dying umbrellas

and in the library
the smell of wet dog
and wool pervades the air

the barista's
at the coffee shop
do really well

the classes are smaller
they also have that smell

and at some time you will
hear a fire bell
set off by,
someone sneaking
a smoke inside.....
then evacuation
and all hell
if you are in the block
forced outside...
betterdays Aug 2014
the rain has come
finally
first in thunderous
clould burst
big fat pregnant drops landing
labouriously on
the dessicated dirt
leaving craterous footprints
as evidence of a
glorious dance

more fall to the cloud's internal beat
a steady rhythmic fall
into the mudpit dancehall
that once was dry dusty street

the rain has lessened
now wavering
between drizzle and mist stragglers late,
to raindance fall ball.
betterdays Mar 2017
inundated by rain, flotsam and jetsom floats down the street
the river has burst it's banks and now  muddy water flows
through her house, at least her new car is safe on higher ground

we perch above it
this deluge of brown water
cyclone debbie's tears
betterdays Mar 2017
and again it rains
this time
a slow misting drizzle
soft to the ear

it has been raining
for days now
tempestous storms
full of sound and fury

steady rain,
with rhythmic monotony

hopeful sunshowers
with optimistic rainbows

nightime gushers
overflowing the gutters

now this today
this grey day drizzle
falling into puddles
washing an already
washed  world
betterdays Oct 2017
puddles
places where
rain juice gathers
so you can startle
your own reflection
with a rewarding splash
betterdays Aug 2017
cold weather outside
sad thoughts within

rains cleanses the windows
tears cleanse the hearts

rain gives water for growth
tears acknowledge slow death

clouds blanket the sky
my other gives me a blanket
both make the day warmer

the sun breaks through cloud
that heavenly beam of light
reminds me of my mothers faith
for her, everything will be alright

me, I gather my blanket closer
and cry into his broad shoulders
betterdays Sep 2014
the crow calls
his mournful dirge
once twice thrice

early this morning
when the sky is  still
grey twilight
and his song of sadness
seeps in past the window frame,
to alight in my heart


today, you
would have been
fifty five...
and there was to be
a massive party
fifty five a glorious age
you said you were going
to retire.... see the world
but i could not see that
you who loved her job so....

but all of that,
immaterial now.
it is just past six months
since you died...
lung cancer...
metatasized to the brain
****** filthy cigarettes

i will raise a glass to you
my friend.....
probably more than one
some in joy and some in tears....

and the crow calls
again and again.....
betterdays Apr 2014
once upon a clock
my house was but a pile
of cards
dealt badly to me
or so i thought
but as time rolled by
riding a mossless rock
i was inclined to think
i could rebuild my deck
using a straighter arrow
and some crazy glue
and make a  cosy nook to
theorize and dissertate
on the new and better
portion, for to sit on
my plate.
for as the wind blows
it can bring fortunate things
of gilded dust and dedelian
wings.
sonetimes it is the choice that matters.
and somtimes it is ok
to just sit on the dock
and watch it all blow away
but don't watch kettkes.for they are just introvert and shy... now the toaster however
is a pop up kinda guy.
ok so now this garden path is leading somewhere a tad weird
down past the zen all calm and white mountains
to the quirky and a little bezerky secret garden
wall and locked where all the gnomes have ned kelly beards, and the lions are dandy and a titch randy.
the dragon snaps are snippity and the roses
are just **** posers and the camelia's would **** for a good cup of tea.

but enough of the garden tour,
we needs must be giving attention to the
matter at hand tho sleight as it be
we have a house of cards to rebuild
a free flow of metaphoric idiocy before i go to bed..fully aware i probably should have gone to
bed earlier ...before i let go the hound of bad mixed breed metaphor
hope you enjoy the sillines.(mistakes and all)
betterdays May 2014
did you ever wonder
as you walked along the sea shore
and picked up pretty shells

whether, there was,
a naked hermit crab
hiding among the rocks
and water swells
thinking....

*"well **** me....i just got
gazumped, again,
on my new seaside condo...."
betterdays Sep 2017
going through spring heatwave here
tempretures that are hot for summer
the last three days.

sweltering
guzzling
perspiring

phhht so hot
the lizards are seeking shade
the devon rex has declared
the bath tub as his and hisses
if we try go move him


sweltering
guzzling
sweating

found my boy
sleeping with the fishes
really he had climb into the fish pond
and was pretending to be asleep
while the fishes swam around him

perspiring
guzzling
sweltering


sweltering perspiring guzzling

sent the surfer dude out for some beer
he was taking a long time
rang him....hes said i live her now
in the beer fridge...at dan murphies
come join me....bring pizza and the boy
we will be happy
my so was pefectly safe in the pond my husband was watching him....and he is a nipper snd knows water safety protocols
betterdays Apr 2014
kookaburra  war
cacophony at dawnbreak who needs sleep
not me

strong black coffee please! long sleepless night behind me,
longer day ahead

origami cranes
gather on the windowsill
awaiting the breeze

feeding virtual koi
one of one thousand inane actions done this day

sticky little hands
*****, grimey, smiley face kindi good today?

Once upon a time,
So much latent potency
In  five simple words

lay you, down thy head,
upon linen cool and fine
rest thy weary mind.
a day of hiakus
eyes wide open
thru
to eyes drooping closed
goodnite
betterdays Mar 2014
being held ransom
by,
incapabilty to form
rational thoughts.

please send help.....

apathy rising,
hope hiding behind
fear.

please send help .....soon

leave thoughts with,
drifting mind, dozing,
on the park bench.

for pick up by random person.
just some silliness....
betterdays Mar 2014
post haste
ad hoc
ad infinitem
off we go

don't you know
a taste of
high  waisted
words
a just and  
spectacular
flow

perhap not
nobody  
really knows

fire works
sparks and blows
of letters
settin your
world  aglow
may even be some
vernacular
on show

word spar
no, no
just emptying
the  brain's
word jar
in one
ridiculous
go

blatherskite
wowsers
braggadicio


thats right
words of
nonsense
might

break out
fake out
make out
to be
smarter
than they
truly are

spay my
toungue
and leash
my brain

before
i reign
in origami
crown
and
threadbare
poet's cloak
rockin rolling
ruling
seesaw slow
ride to
insecurity
teetering
on a throne
of mispronounciation
and bleghhgity blah rime

mine
no one elses
you all primed

check my byblow
what do ya know
abnegation
eschewal
abjuration
palinode

retraction
of recantation
no retaliation
just words
in a quick
an flirty show
not really claiming rapper status just playing with the words
betterdays Apr 2014
miniscule
itty
bitty
tiny
teeny
runty
paltry
petite
flying commas
lilliputian
smackerels
midgey
smidgens
gnatty
buggies
catch my
peripheral vision
doing my
brain in
annoying
the sh#t
out of me.
betterdays Sep 2014
tea leaves
drift off the
spoon
dancing
down
to rebirth
albeit
scalding hot
in the cheery
little blue
teapot..
betterdays Dec 2015
the stockings were hung
then unstrung
the gifts wrapped
then opened and scrapped

eyes open wide, at gifts given with pride
forgive us dear lord for the little white lies

I adore it, no it won't leave my side
Where can we find a place for,
this monstrosity to hide


The church bells were rung
the carols sung,
All the while thing of the traveling miles
for the holiday away in the summer sun

Dinner was baked bbqed and burped
Wine was drunk, now Uncle Albert
is dancing, just shy of naked
drunk as a skunk, Aunt Em in the throes
of the holiday funk....has declared her new teeth
have been sunk into the trilfle....of which she is
elbows in, having a rifle, through
Dad's mid nap, and we are counting down the seconds
between each snore, Mum still asking any one for any more pav
And Malcom has dissapeared to the lav

and this is the Christmas, that we have had,
and tho it sounds dorky....I am a wee bit glad....

Tommorow we box ourselves in the car
travelling, travelling o so far
and back to the bickering, backstabbing and fights
but we practise peace to all men at Christmas
as is our right....
but with da and his snoring,
we have no chance of a silent night.
bit of fun for Christmas......an amalgam of many Christmas's and family "doos"
and it was granpa who snored"like a wounded bull"  not dad....lol
betterdays Jun 2020
Toes cold and aching
Fires flicker in amber dance
Red wine warms the soul
betterdays Apr 2017
I remember my mother's
black patent leather court shoes
so shiny as to be reflective of my soul
as I stared at them from the floor
of the church, laying between pews
memsmerised by hymns of god's glory
and shiny black shoes


I remember my mother's
black patent leather court shoes
with the crack across the sole
as she put them on to walk the mile
to work, caring for other peoples
sick children

I remember my mother's
black patent leather court shoes
as an adult I sat across from her
dozing form and stared at her feet
malformed by hours of standing
in heeled shoes in operating theatres

I remember, the year we got new shoes
and she had her's patched and repatched
I remember the sighs of relief
as she took off her shoes after a long day
and placed those weary feet into sheepskin slippers,  
bought yearly at the mother's day sales..


I remember these sacrifices
and more as  I help the old lady,
who is my mother with crooked back
and shuffling legs from chair to table
and back again..

I remember with gratitude
the quiet fierceness of her love
I remember my mother's
black patent leather court shoes
and all that they represent...
This i s prompt from last years napowrimo....when I have time...I intend to revisit these prompts....this was for a poem of remembering....
betterdays Jun 2014
feelin lazy today,
so you get what you get,
turn the page
move on
learn from your mistakes 
be brave face your fears
footloose and fancyfree
 don't run with scissors 
smile
stay a while 
catch more flies with honey 
wrong way turn back 
a stitch in time saves nine 
when i was your age 
no rhyme or reason to it 
high road or low road 
polly want a ******* 
click, click, boom
first past the post 
i 'm just a smiling sunbeam 
barrel of monkeys 
to thine ownself be
thank you what doesn't **** you 
hand in the cookie jar 
never seen the like 
flat out like a lizard drinking 
not happy jan! 
take a bex and have a good lie down
pull your socks up!
sunshine and daffodils
 slip, slop, slap, put on a hat 
life passes by in the blink of an eye
stand up straight
chip on your shoulder
 take note 
laughter the best medicine 
*** 
brainfreeze 
kindness warms the cockles of my heart 
if you can't be nice 
you did not just say that 
umm, ahh, now you in trouble 
quiet now i am watching tv 
do not cry 
don't spray it, say it 
do not tell mum 
it was'nt me 
hava mint,
please lol
go to your room 
do not pass go
do not collect one hundred $$ 
hello 
all the world's a stage... merely players 
wanna play
go away busy 
want to come over 
can i kiss you 
push 
it's a boy 
what a whopper 
please i've seen better 
do i know you 
the dog ate my homework 
who now 
why am i here
 put your clothes on 
what goes up must come down
 life goes on 
is my *** big in this 
stop the merry-go-round
i want to get off 
whatever
i need a dollar 
tea anyone 
she had a goodlife 
sorry
how much 
every things coming up roses 
what pink pigs flying overhead 
snap, crackle, n'pop 
one sugar or two 
in case i don't see you 
good morning 
good evening and good night 
ttyl 
out
take a bow you've earned it.
a nod to the varied sources...
betterdays Apr 2016
feelin lazy today,
so you get what you get,
turn the page
move on
learn from your mistakes 
be brave face your fears
footloose and fancy-free
don't run with scissors 
smile
stay a while 
catch more flies with honey 
wrong way turn back 
a stitch in time saves nine 
when i was your age 
no rhyme or reason to it 
high road or low road 
polly want a ******* 
click, click, boom
first past the post 
i 'm just a smiling sunbeam 
barrel of monkeys 
to thine ownself be
thank you what doesn't **** you 
hand in the cookie jar 
never seen the like 
flat out like a lizard drinking 
not happy jan! 
take a bex and have a good lie down
pull your socks up!
sunshine and daffodils
slip, slop, slap, put on a hat 
life passes by in the blink of an eye
stand up straight
chip on your shoulder
take note 
laughter the best medicine 
*** 
brainfreeze 
kindness warms the cockles of my heart 
if you can't be nice 
you did not just say that 
umm, ahh, now you in trouble 
quiet now i am watching tv 
do not cry 
don't spray it, say it 
do not tell mum 
it was'nt me 
hava mint,
please lol
go to your room 
do not pass go 
do not collect one hundred $$ 
hello 
all the world's a stage... merely players 
wanna play
go away busy 
want to come over 
can i kiss you 
push 
it's a boy 
what a whopper 
please i've seen better 
do i know you 
the dog ate my homework 
who now 
why am i here
put your clothes on 
what goes up must come down
 life goes on 
is my *** big in this 
stop the merry-go-round,
i want to get off 
whatever
i need a dollar 
tea anyone 
she had a goodlife 
sorry
how much 
every things coming up roses 
what pink pigs flying overhead 
snap, crackle, n'pop 
one sugar or two 
in case i don't see you 
good morning 
good evening and good night
rinse, repeat. set
now see here 
ttyl 
out
take a bow you've earned it
Todays prompt, write an index poem....sorry  having scheduling difficulties, so pulled this out of the archives.....most of the lines are from movies, or australian tv adverts or are commonly used phrases.... tacked together to create a list poem, first written in 2012 and added or altered over the past 4 years...still a work in progress.
betterdays Mar 2014
feelin lazy today,
so you get what you get,
turn the page
move on
learn from your mistakes
be brave
face your fears
footloose and fancyfree
don't run with scissors
smile
stay a while
catch more flies with honey
wrong way turn back
a stitch in time saves nine
when i was your age
no rhyme or reason to it
high road or low road
polly want a *******
click, click, boom
first past the post
i 'm just a smiling sunbeam
barrel of monkeys
to thine ownself be
thank you
what doesn't **** you
hand in the cookie jar
never seen the like
flat out like a lizard drinking
not happy jan!
take a bex and have a good lie down
sunshine and daffodils
slip, slop, slap, put on a hat
life passes by in the blink of an eye
chip on your shoulder
take note
laughter the best medicine
***
brainfreeze
kindness warms the cockles of my heart
if you can't be nice
you did not just say that
umm, ahh,
now you in trouble
quiet now i am watching tv
do not cry
don't spray it, say it
do not tell mum
it was'nt me
hava mint,
please
lol
go to your room
do not pass go do not collect one hundred $$
hello
all the world's a stage... merely players
wanna play
go away busy
want to come over
can i kiss you
push
it's a boy
what a whopper
please i've seen better
do i know you
the dog ate my homework
who now
why am i here
put your clothes on
what goes up must come down
life goes on
is my *** big in this
stop the merry-go-round i want to get off
whatever
i need a dollar
tea anyone
she had a goodlife
sorry
how much
every things coming up roses
what pink pigs flying overhead
snap, crackle, pop
one sugar or two
in case i don't see you
good morning
good evening
and good night
ttyl
out
take a bow you've earned it
with appropiate thanks given to all
sources
betterdays Mar 2017
wandering into the sun room
with a small question
I find my boys in repose

the acorn, lies across two beanbags
as though he had just
finished a marathon and collapsed
for want of air all legs and arms
with a fringe of needs to be cut soon hair
affordung his face privacy
he glows with youth and promise

my oak, rests sprawled in the old mamasan
hairy legs akimbo, one deck shoe on, one half off
he has sat on one hand, wedging in between cushions
the other dangles off the chair's rim, long fingers hanging
his shirt has ridden up to show tanned trim stomach
with a surfer's bleached snail trail leading to a darker hairline
his mouth slightly open as he dreams his bulldozer dreams
his hair long and now slightly thinning  curls in the humidity
he has not shaved for days and
his stubble a dusting of silver and gold
his lips are a tad dry, but still so inviting

I turn and leave them in repose
my question forgotten
betterdays Jul 2015
Just a note to those here who
Are not familar with me
I AM NOT BERYL DOV
And for those that do know me
WELL DANG!!!!You already knew that.
Have just been added to ormond's list of aka's
Probably because I defended Screaming Night  Hog,
Who is NOT  Beryl Dov either....
But what ya gonna do...
Except write to Eliot....
Which I have done...
JOIN ME...if you are sick of this ....
cringeworthy cyberstalking  appearing on hello poetry ...
betterdays Mar 2015
I lay down
and let the green chlorophyll
envelope my soul

above, the blue eternity
of the clear Indian summer sky

at my left ear,
some small being,
scuttles about in the moist
hummus of the days decay.

at my right,
the silence of a rock,
quietly mourning
it's separation from the mountain

and underneath me,
grass continues to grow,
oblivious to the oppressive
weight I have laid upon it.
ever relentless ,in the search
for the  warm of the sun...

I smell the hope of the earth
as I lay upon it
and relax into the simply,complex world that lays beneath.
and it unquestioningly,
receives the stress,
that leaches from me...


and in the sky....a bird flies...
                                unencumbered.
betterdays Jan 2018
i sit in pew that years before
a convict sat chained to six others
brought to pray for a repentant heart
for the theft of bread or linen handkerchief
or perhaps something more sinister

my ample backside finds no comfort
on the narrow six inch board
but then i doubt that there were
many rotund convicts

the gloom in the old  churchis peaceful
and it is cool even though the temperature
soars outside the thck walls of sandstone
insulate not only from the heat,
also the sound of cars and other modernities

i expect the convicts, appreciated the church,
perhaps not for it's moralities and judgments
but as a respite from the harsh australian sun
a place to sit in quiet contemplation, whilst
the hymns from a homeland,  so far away
washed over them,  like water to a parched soul

as i sit  i feel for those convicts
and the quiet gloom comforts this soul...
i hum amazing grace and feel the connection...
betterdays Aug 2014
i have found a patch
of quietude in my busy
day and spend it outdoors.

under a dovegrey, marshmallowed sky
and with the gossip of
two brown house sparrow
wifes.

i take my loafers off
and share the fragent warmth of the earth
with the colony of oiled, black skinks
and the shy, baby
blue tongue.

and i  sit on a log...
and breathe..
long and deep...
restrorative sighing.

then appearing  above us all, a kite or eagle, rides the wind in circles....perhaps...
the baby blue tongue,
is right to be shy...

in the distance
the kookaburra chuckles
and the lorikeets squabble
and people murmur and shout.

too soon,
my respite is over.
then it is shoes on,
and back to the computer screen and desk....

but at least i had a few moment's grace...
betterdays Apr 2014
hi
not a poem
just a quick note
to let the person
who suggested
a change to my poem
"tommorrow"
i am not being rude
just can't accsess
you advice via
my device
it just dissappears
have msg'd the
deveolper
but you may want to
send a message, message
in the interim
and thanks
for your interest
in my work
cheers
bd.
betterdays Jan 2017
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
betterdays May 2017
caught between the dust motes
spinning lazily in the sun's rays
is that moment of time
that we all wish we could
have time again.....
                         ....and again
betterdays Apr 2015
banana driven
to drive one bananas
backseat driver
lodged on one's back
insipid thief
taking bite sized pieces
of one's soul
leaving you feeling less
than whole..
confused about one's role
grinding, prancing,
either way can't stop dancing
riddle-raddled fiddle-faddled
muddle minded ....
listening,
to it's whispering....
takes a terrible toll.
prompt :
write a riddle poem...
notes: the answer to what am I?
the monkey on one's back....
. ..but then you guys already
knew that.
betterdays Mar 2014
the kookaburra's
shuffle, along
the power lines
like, wing-ed music,
they organise and reorganise
the day's riff.

darting down, to pick
a lizard morsel from
the earth,
recalibrates, the sound
of maniacal mirth.

shuffle down, shuffle down,
hop across, and shuffle up
swoop away, fly on in.
all, accompanied by
raucuos din.

then they settle and they
doze
beady eyes open in repose.
a pause in the clamour
of the day's beat.
the clan a couple of days ago
betterdays Mar 2018
syringe push driver
medical implement
that aids in supplying drugs
a comfort measure

the pathway home
you lie in bed so small
all the freice fighting spirit
leached away, just needing rest

you ask me to ring"the boys"
let them know you aren't doing well
they ask me to set up a family meeting
to discuss the use of the push driver
all these things i do.....all the time
wanting to hide, put my hands to my ears
and cry, lalalals, not listening

but I cannot, I am the adult now....
My mother's condition deteriorates...Thank you to those who provide support here and elsewhere....
betterdays Dec 2024
Kookaburras swoop
And settle in chorus  row
Riot in session

Cacophony rises
As claim and
counter claim bursts
From sharp shiny beaks

Beady eyes  upon
garden beds
and morsels there
Ding on the wing
A group or flock  of  kooka's is lso known as a riot...
betterdays May 2014
i go to the river's bend.
today,
i want my water contained.
today,
the sea too big, too wide.
today,
i need to see the other side.
today,
i watch the water flow,
from small aquifer beginings,
to great worlds sweepings.
today,
i watch and see the cycle
of life....
drift on by.....
betterdays Jul 2018
my words are like ants
that an ant bully is playing with
today they wander aimlessly
trying to find the thread of sense
the trail to lead them home
betterdays Dec 2017
curled in upon himself
the patched cat sleeps
tail twitching in cat dream
a little growl comes from
somewhere in the middle
and then the skin shifts
in a wrinkled wave

i open the tin of sardines
and the bundle resolves
it's self into a lanky legged
tuxedo devon rex,
all slink and stretch
eyes and ears, mouth opened
in an enormous yawn
and nose mobile seeking scent

sardine goes into bowl
nose finds sardine
mouth follows
in seconds the bowl is clean  
and a pink tongue wipes lips,
as eyes plead for more

when none is forthcoming
cat takes himself
back to basket
to sleep away
this wet afternoon
betterdays Nov 2015
it's all
up in my head
all  these disparate threads

all these under the bedclothes
secrets
all these don't mean to be
but am what i am moments

all stuffed away in stacked suitcases
braced by not sure what you ,mean faces
all those sacred and scared places
within this wearied, wary and weirdly  warped soul

all the tattered scraps, the you are here, maps
the body slaps, the landings without *****
the god i need a nap snaps
all stacked racked and filed under
memories:
vivid, hazy, pleasant,pissant, piquant,
crazy, tearful, fearful, beerfull
and happy, sad glad mad,
**** why did i follow that there fad
bad...badass
fragile as glass
pain in the proverbial...
ask no questions ....
tell no lies
time flies....

all there bats in the belfry
cats in there pj's
no where, mayhaps be free
listening to internal dj's

dancing til dizzy
drinking slightly fizzy
alcohol.... misty tizzies,
getting bizzies...

all there, in a mixed up soup
smiling faces, put through paces
thoughtful moments, all the components
to make a life....to make a life
it's all up in my head.........
                                                roosting
betterdays Jun 2014
it seems, my words
have lost their allure,
this morning.
and i am too fixated,
on vainly scrawling.
to see
the crafts of others,
floating on the river poetry.
i am, hands to the oars, rowing against,
a beautiful tide.
endevouring,
to attain a mooring,
on the inside of a thought. what would happen,
if i.....
let go and read just
one or two poems
from other,
weary skullsmen
and made comment.
it mayhap...
nothing, but then it,
maybe...
instead of poetry,
decrying a dying state.

the poet in the other boat,
rowing silently,
for a moment, or a lifetime
is encouraged to,
greater acts
of creativity.
just maybe.....maybe.
betterdays Aug 2014
a different town,
on a cold, cold day.
a little sort of,
runaway.

a chance,
to
change,
the view.

to
refresh the mind
to
let it all hang out,
to
slowly unwind.

to
run and play,
while all rugged up,
on a windy beach.
to
listen to gulls,
squabble and screech.
while
i watch my boys
climb on the rocks
and
explore the worlds,
within the pools.

then,
a lunch of,
food sublime,
cooked by hands
other than mine.

family chatter,
over
coffee and milkshakes.
a delectable
kiwi and tequila
baked cheesecake.

some time spent walking
in the park,
testing swings
and  
sliding down,
all manner of things.
before,
going to the movies
to sit in the dark
(so warm and snoozable)
and watch...
the blue genie play,
on this robin william's
memorial day...

then,
more coffee.
a quick pit stop
and
the drive on, home.
all refreshed and renewed,
after our runaway roam.
sometinea it is nice to leave
it all behind for a day....
even if it is only a couple of towns down the road.
and we found a indie movie
theatre running robin williama films all day... wirh procceds going to a suicide
prevention line.
betterdays Jun 2014
oh woe is me!!!
have pity, cruel
and heartless world.
the sky now fallen.
my sadness, unfurled.
i sail,
upon a ship of abject
misery.

i sit at the helm
and weep
and cry
and moan
and mewl,
til, my eyes have
run out of
wet, n' salted fuel.

now, those who know me,
are wondering why,
me, who writes happiness.
is having a hysterical cry.

if i can but,
bring myself,
to tell you why,
you must be generous,
of heart, and not say fie.

my big, catastrophe,
bigger than you know.
is a death, in the family...
they have lingered long
and been, a dear friend.
but this morning i went
to see them and they
where gone!!
and oh dear me!
what an embarassing end...

it is,
sad,
beyond,
sad.
i cannot tell a lie.
here its is....
in all it's badness

*my jeans done died
i had this pair of favourite, faded blue,white jeans.
had them long enough, that
they had come back into fashion....had them longer than my husband, my present job.
they knew me,
so well and comfortable too
i went to wear them this morning, as a pick me up treat....
and lo and behold,
they fell apart, at my feet
the crotch,
had frayed away
and if i had worn them,
my smalls and privates, would be saying a cheeky, g'day....
so i am sad
and an old friend has departed.
but at least
it happened in private
and not at work,
when i farted....

i tonight,
will give them,
a burial, in the duster bin...
and then drink to them,
with tonic and gin.
fare the well,
my faithful denim friend
consider this to be...
your heartfelt eulogy.
betterdays Jul 2014
she writes despair,
from her womb.
in thick menstrual red.
...a dirge of lost potential.

lamentations of longing,
need and want for a child
sear her face and mind....

again a false start,
hope....stands expectant at
the starting line.....
only to falter and fall,
time after time.

she hates,
this carriage, that does not,
well do the job
she hates,
those who can, with apparent ease.
who do not mis,
but have,
the joyous moments,
of that first squalling cry...

but mostly,
she longs for
the next time,
she can try....
til then,
sadness prevails
a friend, misscarriage,ivf...i don't need to say more...
sadness prevails
betterdays Jun 2014
this i know.
without a skerrick of doubt.

if not for your hands,
holding gently, my fragile heart.

and our son's, trust and need,
giving roots,
to my runaway feet.

my vagabond soul,
                              would be, but dust,
                                   scattered, to the winds..

your heart... and his...are my anchors ....sturdy.
agin,
the present, malestorm.
that is my iconoclastic mind.
betterdays Sep 2014
the bellRINGS
                     tinitubular
sending curlique vibrations
             of sound unseen
but felt at the very  heart
of the core
            and then there isJOY
floating around in moted
                          DEFIANCE
small smidgens fall like        
              MANNA
on the thirsting ground.
   and in this simple action of grasping at  INSPIRATION
we the poets
                    hear
                         the ECHOES  
                of lives unlived
and see the beauty of        
                               DREAMS

yet to be broken
                and in that
                        small moment
we are the KEEPERS of the
                     world  
WITHIN the bells that are
                              RINGING
an experiment...in format
and flow...
betterdays Nov 2014
i walk...
out into the sun,
through the creaking gate,
down accross the strip
of brown driedup grass,
over the already warm,
under my feet, tarmac
to the roads crumbling edge,
all the while, the kookaburras are laughing
with glee and the rainbow
lorikeets, are gossiping about me....
i walk down the cliff side steps, seventy three and
then one last, doozy jump,
onto the squeaking sand.
stop a moment now, to
shed my shoes and shirt,
down to the tideline...
now, i am leaving land,
for wave and froth and
beating water, keep striding
through, to the deeper salt
and then, suspended,
in the ocean.....
feeling free...
as i give myself to it and it gives to me....

          **back to the mother,
      my souls own, delight,          
   saltwater  washing
                           heals all.
betterdays Aug 2014
i sit at the table
watching my fingertips
caress the wineglass
idly contemplating the day

no....my mind races  
and careens about
the alley and byways,
of my psyche
bouncing off
walls of guilt...
i am fast,
coming,
undone.


i look at you,
and know my world
is, safe and complete
a smile, comes to my face

no.... i grimace slightly
as i look at you...
your perfection
diminishes me
until i am,
but a whispered,
mockery of myself.


i lift my glass
to partake sparingly
of the rich woody red wine

no...i dive in headfirst
to the bottle of red wine
hoping, to get lost
in it's woods
and then drown
in the dregs.


we end the evening
on a gentle kiss.

no... we rut like animals
with out care
before you leave,
without a backward
glance.


i sigh in quiet happiness
as i watch you sleep.

no.... i weep as i retch
and *****...on the motel's
bathroom floor.


i am lucky
to be so loved

*no one
gives a ****
about me
the idea of this exercise
was to come at a theme
from two differing views
and then create two poems
which i did..in one post...
not sure if it worked.
then again it is ten to three in the morning here.
betterdays Apr 2017
samsonian hair litters the ground
the man I married looks
different shorn
like a raggedy sheepman
all naked and forlorn
head all baldy and bumpy
his curly locks
carefully sealed into a bag
still my hero though as his locks go to make wigs and we collect the money raised for kids with cancer
how ever he does not look good bald

written a couple of months ago when Ben partook in the shave for a cure...his hair now regrown to soft curls....
betterdays Jan 2016
it is a small thing
like sand in my shoe
this grief that wears
away my soul

but it is there always
in small moments
of wanting
in words lost to the
unhearing ear
in laughter that echos
thin in empty air

i still see you everywhere
but you are a year gone
from here...

your scent fades upon
your clothes....
your voice dims within
my mind.....
but your kindness remains
forever stitched within
my heart...
and your smile, before
my eyes,

it is a small thing
this grief within
my soul...
like sand in my shoes
both pleasant and wearing
betterdays Oct 2014
looking down
at the grains of
sand
encrusted upon
my tide washed feet

i pause to ponder

how much older,
and far better traveled
these tiny chips of calcified
life and mountain grit must be...

now i have been to
many places....
L.A. Paris, London,
Dunedin, Melbourne
Hong Kong, Mooloolaba
to name but a few...

but these little bits of
seadust,
have lived lives
and lost,
have travelled
to and fro....
becoming ever...
smaller as they went....

shedding of themselves
to the greater entity.
becoming
one speck among......
                              bazillions

taken beyond their lives
of solidity by swirling
currents

only to end up as sand
upon my toes.
big thoughts for a friday night...
betterdays Apr 2014
the cool evening draws itself inward
around our bodies close entwined
in musk filled sheets we lay mute
hands braille like speak of life's
message on lovers
skin cooling now
quiescent
replete
sate
best read in landscape
this is a nonet
poem
nine lines
first line 9 syllables
last line 1 syllable
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