poor Man
was made in the image of God
(especially man, especially the he's!)
and so he he he must abide
with rules and propriety
and commandments and ideals


whereas I,
I am free to go
where I choose
to wing myself


(no doubt I fear the fly-swat
though I escape that mostly with dexterity)


ah, strange that it is a petty fly
just a common fly, a housefly
just me
that knows unconditioned freedom;
for I have no ideals to pursue
and am not judged nor do I judge
and can fly low and high
and no one cares if I feed at dung-piles
and sit cleaning my feet on most sacred altars
or run up the nostrils of most reverend masters


ah, to be a fly -
far better a short soul-less life
(ended perhaps by your fly-swatter)
of daring and freedom
than an eternal life of burning Hell
or eternal, unquestioning drugged obedience



poor Man
was made in the image of God
(especially man, especially the he's!)
and so he he he must abide
an eternity
of rules and propriety
and commandments and ideals

star
alone star
shining, twinkling, moving
just being what you are;
star alone star
though watching minds make of you a meaning
a wish, or a symbol
but alone star you are simply what you are;
star alone star
unlike men, women
unlike intelligence that must form and associate
who must be this or that
conditioned and grown and nurtured
and shaped
and programmed;
but you star
alone star
not like this or that
but simply natural, what you are

the boy who was six
running over hills and jumping over streams
now he's nearly sixty;
and the girl, she too,
she who picked flowers in the woods
and who fetched water from the well
she too has seen time's movement
with all the joys, the pain
and the activity and goings on that come with it:
one strolls over the hill now in the quiet
and one sees the full moon
over the giant trees
the moon distant in the sky
and yet its gentle rays spread over the tree heads;
one sees all this calm and peace

in Indonesia and Malaysia
they call her Pontianak:
she’s the cool hantu, spirit -
she lives in the banana trees;
she died in childbirth
and as she did she saw the joy
in her husband’s eyes
and so she hangs out in the nights:
she wants to eat every unfaithful man’s heart



1
the poor woman died
giving birth to a child
and still the woman lives
a ghost, undead –
to seek her revenge on men
for they showed no care, no love


2
so do not hang your clothes
outside to dry
for Pontianak will sniff you out
and will not rest
till she eats you inside out




3
she loves men -
well, it’s hate
and so she loves to eat men;
and so men, when you are alone
and you see this beautiful woman
alone in the dark somewhere in the deserted streets
and there’s the scent
don’t give in to the charm
for that’s Pontianak
and she’ll smell horrid after
but you’ll be severed body parts by then


4
push a needle with string
into the banana tree
and wait at the other end
with the string ending in a cup -
and you’ll hear Pontianak laugh and screech
in your improvised phone
in the middle of the night



5
and you never know -
your neighbor’s gorgeous wife
may be a Pontianak;
a hantu tamed with
a nail in her neck;
a gorgeous babe
till the iron nail is pulled out

…1966…Malaysia…


1
I’m on my scooter
back home to my village after work
in town
and it rains
and I take a short-cut
people have told me about;
and along the way at a bus-stop shed
I see in the moonlight
a woman waving at me

I stop and she says:
“Please give me a ride
and drop me home;
I’ve missed the bus…
Just the first house on the right
straight down this track…”

2
I see her face and her form -
O She’s beautiful
and I offer her my jacket
and she sits behind me
and I ask her for her name
and she tells me it is Salma;
it’s a beautiful name
and I love the fragrance she exudes so close
and sometimes, as we ride down the dirt-track,
her body brushes ever so lightly against my back


3
I stop at the shed that is her house
It is still raining
and Salma jumps off the scooter
and with a wave she runs into her home
I am happy –
she has my jacket
she is beautiful
and I know her home
and I have a reason to call on her
the next day…


4
It’s Sunday the next morning
and I ride to Salma’s house
and an old woman opens the door
and she listens to my tale
and she is shocked I’d want to see Salma
and she takes me into her small home
and she shows me
Salma’s photograph on the wall
and she asks: “Is that her you saw?”
and I nod shyly
and the old woman cries
and she says:
“I’m Salma’s mother;
Salma died three years ago…”




5
And Salma’s mother takes me behind the house
and there behind the trees she shows me Salma’s grave
and there on the grave is my jacket…
“She died three years ago,”
the woman cries..
I run; I run…
and I ride my scooter like crazy;
I don’t want my jacket back…
and I’ll never ride this way again…

hang on tight, baby -
keep your senses wide
for we're going on a roller-coaster ride;
scream as much
but just hang on tight, baby -
hang on for dear life


times are tough
more than ever;
bills come at the speed of bullets
taxes gather like summer flies
and debts ricochet against our walls;
the banks want more and more
but there's just air in our pockets


hang on tight, baby -
keep your senses wide
for we're going on a roller-coaster ride;
scream as much
but just hang on tight, baby -
hang on for dear life


the jobs dry up and
the dollars dwindle into cents;
permanent becomes temp
and temp becomes non-existent;
full-time goes into part-time
and part-time into casual
and casual into zilch


hang on tight, baby -
keep your senses wide
for we're going on a roller-coaster ride;
scream as much
but just hang on tight, baby -
hang on for dear life


nature conspires with the economy,
sweetheart:
she sends rains and fire and landslides;
she claws sands off the beaches and
all we have left are
government ******* and *******
who care a hoot about our fish and chips


hang on tight, baby -
keep your senses wide
for we're going on a roller-coaster ride;
scream as much
but just hang on tight, baby -
hang on for dear life


time's not on our side either, sweetheart;
mind you, with mighty puffed cheeks
he blows H1N1 flu round the globe
and so sends people and customers away
and those who remain turn cheap and nasty
and all these pigs want are discounts and freebies


hang on tight, baby -
keep your senses wide
for we're going on a roller-coaster ride;
scream as much
but just hang on tight, baby -
hang on for dear life


the collection agencies are knocking, dear -
it sounds much like the knock of death
in Beethoven's ninth;
the mortgage barbarians are on their horses
and they send writs and auction threats
and re-possessions


hang on tight, baby -
keep your senses wide
for we're going on a roller-coaster ride;
scream as much
but just hang on tight, baby -
hang on for dear life


O hang on, sweetheart,
hang on tight:
many will fall, many will bleed
but those who hang on tight
and those who can love
those who can dream together
they will ride the nights out into clear day


hang on tight, baby -
keep your senses wide
for we're going on a roller-coaster ride;
scream as much
but just hang on tight, baby -
hang on for dear life

daddy, daddy,
I can't go to school

why darling,
what's wrong
with you?


I've got a runny nose,
daddy -
can't you see?
and my cheeks are blue
I just think
I've got the flu


but sweetheart,
you look
as fresh as the rose
outside your room;
and darling
your eyes glow
like sparklers in New Year


but daddy, daddy
hear me carefully:
my voice is hoarse;
don't you think
I sound like granny?


oh, OK darling -
you don't have to go to school;
though, today is the day we stop
for pancakes
before school
and we stop for
doughnuts after;
but that's all fine
if you're sick
just stay at home
and you can't have either


but daddy, daddy
I CAN go to school;
see my nose 's fixed itself now
and my voice is again
as clear as the school bell;
and just as you say
my face is as fresh as the rose
outside my room
and my eyes glow
like New Year sparklers:
so what are you waiting for, daddy?
put on your shoes
get your car keys
and let's GO!