Distractions no longer compete
No light but a candle
No sound but breath and heartbeat

Life stripped down to naught
bare-bone essentials
economy of motion and thought

Stillness weighs like lead
the silence roars
and the calm is full of dread

Fears without form
unspoken in this dark tomb
within the eye of the storm

What is still relevant
in the face of doom?

I enter the small town coffee shop
desperate for caffiene
                           and a moment's respite

and I find it is to another era
I have come, hot and flustered

I look at the menu,
scratched in chalk on dusty board.
No artistic rendering  here
just a list of good honest food,
humble, but a smidgen dear

I order coffee, latte,
with cold milk on the side,
to which the large lady server
looks at me her head cocked to askew
and states, in a flat australian drawl,
that brings billabongs and jumbucks to mind...

Darl, I can make it tepid if ya wants,
or I cans put ya cold milk on the side
but I gotta charge ya extra..
for ya mouthful of chilled moo juice
smiling, lips thin and wide

I replied I'll still take the milk on the side
and one of those little peach cakes
if you don't mind.

She gave me a price and I complied,
thinking unto myself,
the moojuice, must originate
up on heaven's side and
cure all ills, ward off chills
and give only ....
joyous thoughts whilst one imbibes.

I sat at some old farm wifes table
worn down and grooved.
Come to town to shine in this caffiene shrine
rubbing my finger agin the edge
awaiting the latte and cold milk...
on the side....

Watching me from the prized corner table
three old dears.....
With stacked mahjong tiles, and swivelling ears

and on the floor crawling with gay abandon
two small children, in tandem,
they wandered amid the tables
on uneven floors the colour of slate,
deep dark wood, tongue  and groove...
that had seen to much walking, to much talking,
the tongues have slipped and the groove all but broken

As I await the cow to moo, the beans to grow
my heart slows a beat..I let go..
and see the joy, of a fella and a good cuppa,
two old friends caught up in a natter.
and the mahjong queens, realease the tiles
old friend and foes, in an a company of smiles

The cake comes, presented with due grace.
Two  pink half moons of light sponge
in a thin jelly and coconut case,
caught in a lover's kiss of delectable cream

and I understand now,
the cow is an angel,
a veritable dream,
to be loved and cosseted,
the moojuice... of moojuices
the mother of creams...

And now for caffiene...
well go figure...they know their beans

Refreshed and renewed I arise and I leave
but not before buying more moojuice
                                                      an­d moocream...

Humanities premise
Is a births promise
So  
When passions ache
Our dreams awake
And  
As youth unfolds
Our love beholds
So
As hearts break  
Our fears awake
And
Our age degrades  
As beauty fades
So  
As the time flies
Our life dies
And
The spirit lives
As God forgives
So
The new dawn  
And we live on
BOEMS BY JA 584

You start out carefully
Pouring into a shot glass,
Then the shot glass is
Sloshing over into the
Coffee mug: it's an
Irish Coffee Mug, "Top of the
Clan McGregor Morning, to you."
By 10 AM you're pouring
Right from the bottle,
Into an assortment of
Jelly-juice glasses:
Mimosas Are Us.
You skip brunch & lunch &
By 1:30 PM you're swigging
Directly from the liter bottle,
Wielded like a meat cleaver
In more ways than one.

When the sea has had her way
no longer to spill from our eyes
she will have given us up;
back to the ocean of the Universe.