we are the conventional lovers
the respectable ones
we are tight-lipped and we never
argue or disagree in public
and even in private we will not raise our voices
lest unseen people might hear us;
we are the respectable lovers
who bring up children
to never reveal their feelings
and to arm themselves with degrees and sobriety
and wide connections and prestige ambitions
and whose grades are the best in the nation;
and our conversations
are of what school our children attend
and what marks they attain
and our lives to drive them around
for achievement lessons;
ah, this is why we love
this why we marry
for the sake of our duty to society,
respectability
our religion, the nation and for the posterior,
Oh, I mean - for posterity

Goya's not gone
his nightmares and realities still shadow us -
the Los Desastres de la Guerra
still palpitate in our desert lands and hills
beating like hearts the Aztecs offered the sun;
and the barbarism of an axe over heads still thrives -
and barbarians can never hear the plea of a mother

Tampoco
tells us of women and girls ***** in war
and Oh, the Fight with Cudgels
looms large over our skies
and the horror of Saturn devouring his son
pervades the earth
and the Black Paintings
run amok in the form of men shrouded in black

Ah, Picasso is there too in our madness:
Guernica bares its teeth and monstrosities

1
modern Romance can be strange
with each seeing others at the same time
even while in a relationship;
but it’s always been the same:
the guys never get it


2
like yesterday my love, strong Tom,
he told me:
‘Sweet Ann, I’ve kept something from you;
I must tell you the truth now:
I’m seeing a psychiatrist’

And I thought, as he was being honest
I should be honest too
and so, I said:
‘Oh my Tom – I’ll tell you the truth:
I’m seeing a plumber, a doctor and a mechanic’

And I don’t understand these men
and their double standards;
Tom just stormed out

1
Sarah and Tim are talking
at the warehouse where they work
“Our new manager’s good –
don’t you think? Bet he’d give me a day off”

“Bet your bottom,” says Sarah


2
And Tim hangs
upside down on the beam
across the ceiling
and the Manager asks:
“Tim, what are you doing?”

“I’m a light bulb,” says Tim
“and I light up
the warehouse”

“You need a break, I think”
says the Manager
“Have the rest of the day off paid;
come back tomorrow”

3
Tim smiles and he goes
and Sarah follows out
And the Manger, puzzled, asks:
“Sarah – where are you going?”

“Oh,” says Sarah,
*“It’s so darned dark in here
since the light is off;
I can’t work
till the light comes back tomorrow”

can you see the whole
of Michelangelo's David
see the creation of it
see its beauty?




1

how awkward
David's genitals,
the authorities decided,
and so covered it with
a garland of
copper leaves
twenty-eight counted



2

and still today people
cannot stand David's genitals
for they look at it open-mouthed
and look away swiftly
shy and embarrassed
with guilt in their hearts
and dust in their eyes



3

but the holy of course
those holy ones
and prim and proper and so moral
all the holy
so blessed and destined to go to Heaven
and enter they will
without genitals surely

and the holy, holy
they speak of profanity
and of the unholy ****
and curse and swear and vow damnation
and if possible
they'd happily put explosives
particularly in David's genitals
like they dynamited the Buddhas of Bamyan
for it's all the same holy intolerance




can you see the whole
of Michelangelo's David
see the creation of it
see its beauty?

Letters from Mom  - Letter 2 of 4: Our new place




Dear my Dearest *******

That was good of you to phone
Great to hear your voice dear
but surely
think about it a little
you need to shout a little more
being so far across the mountains
on the other side
in the other state
Even when we got telephone
you got to shout  a little more –
cos even with the telephone,
it’s a fair distance, remember
so all we can hear of you is a faint crackle



This new place is not too bad
dear O dearest *****
It’s  got one of these wonders, the washing machine
but I’m not sure if it works really
cos I put my first load of clothes in for the wash
and I pulled at the handle
and there was a rush of water
and, dear or dear me ,
I saw everything swirling
but I haven’t seen the clothes since
Dad says that thing there
is for men to sit on and read the newspaper
But tell me – why would they have water in there
if it were not a regular one-of-them washing machine?



Tell you about the weather here in our new place
dear O dearest *****
Not too bad – it only rains say twice a week
which is not too bad
See it rained Monday and continued till Thursday morning
and then continued from Thursday morning to Sunday night -
which is not too bad, just twice a week,
my dear O dearest *****




Now Dad wants to sit on that washing machine
and read the newspaper
he says, like he claims eminent men do
But no way, I’m not allowing him to sit on our washing machine –
have you ever heard of such a thing?
I’m going to kick him, if I need to
I think I’ll put in another load of washing
and see if the machine spits out the first one I put in




Write to me, or call us again, Darl *****
Your loving Mom

Public swimming pool opening soon.
All welcome.
It’s free and it’s your money
anyway
built for the community
not through philanthropy
but through taxes.
Sometimes we collect so much taxes
we don’t know what to do –
so we throw in a pool
so Council does not drown in the money we collect.
You can’t swim?
So what?
Just jump in – there’s plenty of water to drink.
It’s really free flow of drinks –
drink as much as you can.
**** in the pool while you’re in, if you like.
Do it discretely.
Public swimming pool opening soon.
All welcome.

this poem (joke-from-online-transformed-into-verse) is dedicated to everyone at HP...smile, and be happy always



"You know,"* said the sun
sending a flare out at the moon
"You're not a planet - a moon
is what you are...a little kid
in the system of things, that's
what you are"

"Look who's talking," replied the moon
*"If you're so big in the scheme of things
how come you can't come out nights?"

it just hit me
how dead
snail mail is

Going on this trip
I told my grandson,
with measured exaggeration:
“I’ll send you a letter
the moment I get there”

“Yes, send me an A,”  he said

Hey, Buddha
I’d like to know
what’s that smile for?
what you smiling about?
there’s so much pain
and tension and conflict in the world
and so much loneliness
and so I don’t see cause for a smile

I see you cross-legged
in the gardens and on shelves
and in the pictures
and I see you at the Thai restaurant
and always you have that smile
so Hey, Mr Buddha -
what’s that smile for?
is there any reason why you should smile
when it’s a struggle down here?
I don't mean to be rude
but just tell me:
what’s there to be smiling about?


given the times
maybe an expression of agony
like Christ on the Cross
might be more apt;
or maybe if you were more
like the Abstract Prophet -
no images allowed -
might have been a better
way for you, considering indefinable nirvana
and all that

instead you smile
and perhaps you spawned a tribe of them:
like the laughing Chinese Buddha
whose bellies people rub for good luck;
and all those ancient Chinese sages
eccentric and laughing like the world’s a fun camp;
and that Kuan Yin, that bodhisattva,
who seems a female version of you
she’s smiling always too
though she hears the cries of all sentient beings


so tell it straight
is that smile really necessary
do you think
or is it just some ancient unknown Leonardo’s
chisel cut everyone who makes you
just repeats?
Hey, Buddha
always smiling
what’s that smile for?
what you smiling about, Mr Buddha?

Dear Algebra Teacher -
stop asking us to find
your X
We can’t help you
if you mess it up

Next time, treat your partner nice
so you don’t have
to bring your personal problems
to class

So stop asking us to find your X;
we don’t know if you’ll ever find her
and we got a feeling your X
is never coming back
and really -  before you ask -
we don’t know Y either

the four monks are out in the open
meditating;
the prayer flags are flapping

“The flags are flapping,”
hums the first monk

“The wind is there,”
intones the second

“It is the mind that
is flapping,”
observes the third

“Mouths are flapping
is all what I see and hear,”
says the last


the frog in the grass
is silent

It is night
Nasrudin walks
in the moonlight
He hears horses
Thieves! Murderers!
thinks Nasrudin
and jumps over the wall
and hides in an open, unused grave


The horsemen stop;
they have seen
a man jump into the grave
and they are concerned:
Are you all right, Sir?
Why are you in the grave?

And Nasrudin answers as quickly:
*Why am I in the grave?
That depends on your worldview.
I am here because of you
and you are here because of me!

nights are fun
such fun -
it’s clear to see

1)
ask Jim
who stayed awake
all night
pondering over
what had happened to the sun
and in the morning, it finally dawned on him

meanwhile his pa
was outside driving
and he drove into the lake
cos he wanted to *dip his headlights

Jim’s mother, on the other hand,
slept on the edge of the bed
cos her doctor told her
(cos she complained
she could not sleep)
to lie on the edge of the bed
and soon she’ll drop off!

and the sister, Susie,
she stayed awake
eight days without sleep
and yet she remained alert and fresh–
and you wanna know how she did that?
Oh, easy - she slept at nights.


nights are fun
such fun -
it’s clear to see




2
see even nature’s creatures
in Jim’s backyard
even they had fun

the wolves had a party all night –
and all **** sapiens in the area agreed
it must have been a howling success

and the glow-worm
it bumped into a tree
and you can bet your own *** –
the glow-worm was de-lighted!


*nights are fun
such fun
it’s clear to see

Oedipus man
you’re not done
worlds move in and out
and meaning is undone;
and the Sphinx says
it’s your mommy and daddy
and this time
you can never unravel the riddle

the woman dad sleeps with
is not his wife
and his wife is not your mom
and your mom never carried you
and the womb you lived in is anonymous;
what else is new?


times are always the same
there’s nothing strange or novel
except terms and focus and brands

and the child who calls you daddy
is not yours
and the man who calls you "Son"
is loose in his morals

O see how man
how things unwind
and you have seen
unknown things
tease and strip;
and you have wept in
the face of the storm
in a world of King Lear’s
turned upside down, inside out
and you have cried like the Fool:
Ah, Hold! Hold!


O man don’t die on us
for we won’t die on you;
you’ve lived on hallucinations
and walking alone and wandering the face of the earth
you’ve tried all drugs, and ecstasy and Soma
and now you’ve adopted God and religion -
ah, it’s always been one drug or other



Oedipus man
you’re not done
worlds move in and out
and meaning is undone;
and the Sphinx says
it’s your mommy and daddy
and this time
you can never unravel the riddle

they all turn up as friends at first
our friendly and warm-hug super powers
with their supercilious smiles and handouts
they come with nice words and packages
and promise of development and infrastructure
and bearing gifts and loans
and remarking on affinities
and history and culture
and they throw in aid and money
and promise of riches and wealth
but they all turn bad guys
all these friendly super powers
they want  a presence first
and then
you are theirs, time present and future
they turn up with new-year fireworks and promises
and then they want to invade your country
and they want to make you theirs
they all turn up bad guys
don't they
these friendly super powers -
and their warm hugs turn into bear hugs

1
just a stone’s throw
from the gates to our village
is the washing place
at that secluded turn of the river
with scattered rocks
rocks some giant children of times long ago
must have played with and thrown about
as our own children
scatter sand about in the open grounds


2
and here at the washing place
here the young mother
sits on a rock
and plaits her hair
with her infant by her side;
and perhaps two women
wash and beat some clothes
and opposite, another
does her share of the work
her lower garments
rolled up to above her knees
and she wrings the clothes,
washes and wrings the clothes

And above, on the highest rock,
above on the rock lies our Village Pervert
always ready, always hiding
peeping down at the women as they work
Oh, our Village Pervert –
what shall we do with him?
we’ve thrown stones at him
the village kids spit at him
the men put him into the water
for over half an hour
the Village Elders have counseled him
and he has been refused food
and his parents have driven him out of home
But still he will not change
and he will be there on the rock
always eager to watch the women at work
always just a look at white flesh of an arm or leg
*Oh, what shall we do, what shall we do
with our Village Pervert?

Yeah! - we win!
We Aussies win
the CoreData 2011 award:
each household will spend
an average of more than $1000
on gifts, food and deco for Xmas
Yeah! - we win!
China? $400 only
The French? $600 only
The Kiwis? $631 only
America? $644 only
The British? $815 only
Britain beats France - but
Yeah! - we Aussies beat 'em all!
Yeah! - we win!


We Aussies also win
the IBISWorld 2011 award:
Australia will spend $1.2 billion
on ***** just in December
Yeah, we win! And throughout 2011!
the UK? they drink only 10.58 litres
average year round
the USA? a paltry 8.42 liters average
And Down Under? - 10.61 litres this year
Yeah! - we win! we win! we win!

Mummy
I think you should send Grandma back
to where she came from;
she comes into my room
stares about, and she says:
“Decadent! Decadent! Decadent!”
And then she mutters:
“Never had such things in my day!”
Ma – it’s a good idea to send her back
to where she came from, I think
And when no one is home
but me and Grandma
she puts plastic flowers in her hair
and dances all round with her song:
"This eve is my wedding;
this eve am I the bride
And I've me the handsomest man
in all of the land"
She hid my shoes the other day
and she grinned when I found them under her bed;
when you are not looking
she swipes her hands over a pretend iPad
and sticks her tongue out, and pops her eyes out
and whispers to me:
“That’s how you look, dearie dear;
like the village idiot in days of old”
She says I dress too short;
I should wear skirts right down to the toes
Grandma stood over my bed
yesterday morning
and she said I was sleeping late, too long;
and she copycats me eating, and she says:
“You are at a sumptuous table
but you eat like the poor”
And she pretends to kiss me goodnight
and she whispers her secret curse:
“Girls who don’t wash their toes,  
they don’t go to Heaven
You might wake up in the morning
and find yourself  walking
on the hot coals of Hell”
Mummy, please
I think you should send Grandma back
to where she came from

I was at the entrance
of the high-rise apartments
and I phoned my grandma upstairs
and she offered me her instructions:
“Well, Josie…I’m at 354
you got to hit the green, square button
with your elbow
at the entrance where you are;
and I’ll release open the glass doors
and then go to the lift on the right
and punch the button with your elbow
and then get in and punch 3
with your elbow
and then when you are up on 3
look for Unit 54
and punch on its button with your elbow
and I’ll open the door”

“OK, easy, grandma…
But why am I punching all these
buttons with my elbow?”

“What?” my grandma screamed.
*“You mean you are coming empty-handed?”

Socrates hears
the gods declare him
the wisest mortal alive;
Socrates wants to know if this is true
(for what do I know? I know nothing)
and over the years,
questions every wisdom celebrity alive;
and in turn,
the wise ones reduce his years -
an abrupt end to his years -
when it comes to their turn
to question him at his trial

1
it’s graduation day
and the teacher gives awards
to each :
a book to one
a staff to another
silk or precious stones;
and to Nasrudin
the teacher
gives a donkey

2
It is some years
and the teacher
hears of Nasrudin’s fame
and comes to visit
the House of Prayer Nasrudin oversees
and to pay homage to the Saint
buried just beside

3
O Nasrudin,
says the teacher -
how great your fame
and vast your following
Tell me, which Eminent Saint  
is buried in the mound
beside the House of Prayer
you oversee?

O Master,
says Nasrudin
It’s the donkey
you gave me
It died just 4 years after
and I buried him here
And everyone wants a Saint
so I have not disabused people
of their faith

4
The teacher nods with a smile
and Nasrudin continues:
But tell me Master –
which Eminent Saint is buried in the mound
beside the House of Prayer
you oversee?

Ah, Nasrudin, says the teacher
*though people believe it’s a Saint
it’s really your dead donkey’s mother

Nasrudin comes to a new town
and he goes to a store
and he asks the owner:
How’s business, Sir?

Business is good, replies the store-owner

Oh, then, can I borrow ten dollars?
asks Nasrudin

I hardly know you, says the store-owner
I can’t lend you any money

Oh, how strange, says Nasrudin
*In my town they won’t lend me any money
because they say, they know me too well -
and here you won’t lend me any money
because you don’t know me!
It’s a strange world we live in.

Yes, sweet love,
it’s the days of living
of ******* and flights of fancy;
it’s the life when the moment is all there is
with no care for the morrow
and no memory of how we came here

and so sweet woman who is close
hold me by my arm over your shoulder
and hold me by my belt
and you standing nearby, O woman
just as sweet and just lovely
carry my outer garment
(you’ll have your turn with me later
when this woman has had mine)
I am not drunk
as you can see
and I am alive in the moment

and so you see time flows like the waterfall
and life is smooth and copious
and our thoughts are like wine in our blood
pervasive, all-embracing,
one no different from the other:
O there is the beauty of the maple leaves
there is the wonder of the waterfall
and there is your beauty and there is my desire
and so happily let’s allow life to flow so

nothing comes to this point
O sweet beauties
nothing passes from here
and O sweet loves
there is but the pleasure
that we see here now
what we see with all our bodies and mind

At said time
and said date and day
I was driving down
Exigency Road
when said gray car
Rego XXhT665
was driving a distance before me
at speed as specified by law
And all of a sudden
there was this so-far unsaid car
that came speeding from the back
and soon was before me
and it all happened like Travolta’s greased lightning
and now-said speeding car hit from the back
already-said car that was behaving itself
driving at speed said by law
(there was a loud sound like: BOOOOM!)
and then the said speeding car reversed
and then ran off, even though traffic lights turned red
It was surely what I saw a hit-and-run case,
not according to the law, which is against the law
And this is what I saw was on
the said aggressive car
that hit illegally, and ran away quickly and unlawfully:
“POLICE  -  VVT21 County“

one must wonder
if the word “Punctuation”
is a relative of “Punctured’;
for, as you must have noticed,
a prose passage
with no punctuation
is as good as punctured…
poetry is cunning;
she uses punctuation as she wishes
and still remains pregnant
with meaning, if you know what I mean

so in ancient Rome
Caelius bumps into
his friend in the streets
and he says:
“Hey, Domitius
I thought you were dead”

Domitius laughs and he says:
“Well, you can see I’m alive”

“Yes,” says Caelius, *“but you must be dead
for I had the information
from someone more reliable than you”

so Old Farmer Joe is missing for breakfast
and his wife Mary goes out
to look for her hubby of fifty years
and finds him standing there
in the middle of the field

What are you doing here, darl
asks Mary
standing here in the field?

And dreamy Old Joe says:
I hear they award
a Nobel Prize to those
out standing in their field
I’m going to win, sweetie


Come, let’s go home, darl
says Old Mary
and she guides him,
as he leans on her shoulder,
and he grumbles:
*I knew you’d spoil everything

Gladiators killed
in spectacular fights
for the amusement of the snorting populace
and drugged Emperors
and won favors of ***-hungry noblewomen
and even the secret bed of the Empress;
but gladiators too could not take life anymore
and so took their own lives

one died on the seat of the latrine
thrusting a sponge and stick
into his own throat;
another ran to the wheel of a huge speeding cart
and pushed his head through the spokes;
and 29 gladiators in their confines
strangled one another
each against the other
no rope, no cloth, no weapons
except bare hands and mutual consent

Gladiators entertained
rowdy audiences dying
to see man killing man or beast
but in their own agony
there were Gladiators
glad enough to take their own lives…

I think you’ll see
life’s getting scary
there’s someone out there
who knows everything about me

See, everywhere in my emails
there’s some tortoise-shell reading
of my inner desires, needs and personality


Today for example
I’ve got several magic readings
several secret readings
Let's start with the first:
Meet **** women in your neighbourhood -
Oh my God, how did they know
I was thinking of my neighbour’s wife?
Make $4000 per week - work at home!
Oh my Dear Stars! How did they know?
Though with this of course I can combine
my need to meet all the **** women in my neighbourhood
while I’m making $4000 online
O it’s all so easy, see -
but scary


And it gets scarier with these mystics reading
my needs and wants
Grow an extra inch!
Oh! Oh! How do they know? How do they know?
Erectile problems? We’ve got the pills!
OK , listen guys - my wife has been talking
hasn’t she?
Best Buy ****** Generic Online - ****** 100mgX60 Pills $125
OK...my wife has certainly been talking! That precision exposes her!
And comes more:
Stop Snoring Tonight - Guaranteed!
Party on all night with our wonder pills...
Dental plans - Oh God! Defend me from these mind-readers!
They even know I’m losing my teeth and need dentures!
Is nothing sacred any more?

And there’s another one
and now it gets even scarier
cos they tell me things I didn’t know about myself:
Put on this bra and see your man rise to the occasion!
But Oh ye Aliens who observe all things human -
I always thought I was the man!
But maybe I never knew I am a woman actually?
for they keep coming:
Bras of all styles, types and sizes just for your body!
Dear God! Heavens!
Why have you done this to me?
Why do you create me as man, run a male program for over 5 decades
and then bring in these soothsayers
to break the harsh truth in a gentle way:
I am a woman - and needing more bras!
And one more:
Ladies, look 20 years younger with LifeCell!
I’m finished! I’m zilch!
I'm a woman and I'm getting old!
The magic weavers have found me out
the truth even I had not known...
Do you suffer from depression?
Yes! Yes! Oh - not before, but now yes! Yes!
The Scientific Breakthrough is here!
Oh, the devils know me! The devils are out to get me!


and so gentle reader
be you aware
the demons are out there
and lest you laugh at me
they may already have started work on you
they know every thought and wish and desire in your heart;
and if you don’t believe me - just check your emails - if you dare...
for I think you’ll agree
life’s getting scary
there’s someone out there
who knows innermost secrets
everything about you and me

gentle girl
in checkered shawl
in Safonkovo,
the artist's village

charming girl
and of delicate smile
in your simple rustic clothes
like any other girl everywhere
with her dreams, her loves
flowering in time, coming of age
with nature's rhythms

girl of desires and wishes
and warmth and good heart
anonymous, unknown
and growing and marrying and begetting
and loving and nurturing and passing
in time past, another age
another clime

and this your lovely smile
that reaches us from your village
this the beauty of you
O girl in checkered shawl
in Safonkovo
the artist's village

this look of you, Venetsianov
sends from the distant past -
this
I breathe in like
I breathe the fresh air
on an early Spring morning,
O darling girl of Safonkovo

....this poem is dedicated to our fellow-poet here at HP, Marisa White...


Corax versus Tisias*


(1) CORAX PRESENTS HIS CASE

Sirs, you most esteemed judges in all of Syracuse
most revered in all of our Greek world
I, Corax - known fondly, no doubt, as The Crow -
charge this man Tisias my student in rhetoric
of a mean trick against me, his teacher; he is a cheat
He entreated me often to teach him the smooth Art of Persuasion
the Perfection I had shaped in Rhetoric
And I agreed, after due consideration, prompted by my sense of duty;
and it was agreed he would pay me only if he wins
his first case in our esteemed courts
But Sirs, mark you well his treachery  -
for having learned of me my 5-Stage Movement in Persuasion
he then has refused to take any legal case in court
so he would never have to pay me my due
And so it is now I have forced him to court;
and so I trust, most Honourable Judges, in your wisdom
If I win the case, I should naturally receive all payment;
if I should lose the case, Tisias wins, and so - logically -
he should pay me…Ah, I submit myself to your wisdom


(2) TISIAS PRESENTS HIS CASE

Sirs, it is most true I was taught by Corax
but I have not kept away from court deliberately
but of fear - for I have no confidence in the rhetoric
he has taught me
For all he taught me was reliance on flattery
which I know, Sirs, never moves you
And so Sirs, if I should lose, it is I who should be paid
by the terms of the agreement;
and if I should win, in spite of his poor instruction,
then it is I again who should be paid for I win then
by my own naturalness
and by your aversion to flattery


(3) THE ESTEEMED JUDGES MAKE THEIR DECISION KNOWN

“Kakou korakas kakon oon”*
which translated in the vernacular, you commoners, is:
“Bad Crow, Bad Egg”

Case dismissed!
Throw the Crow and its Egg out of this Revered Court!

Offer your children a diet of pumpkin soup for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
In the absence of children , offer it to your spouse. Or offer it to yourself.

2.
Color your face and hands Green.
And hold a placard with the words: MOTHER NATURE .
Then stand outside on the highway at peak hour traffic.
Just watch what they do to you.

3.
When the children come knocking tonight and they shout: Trick or Treat? tell them:
I’m doing the Trick and Treat, little darlings - and say:
The Trick is, I’m going to recite one of my poems, and the Treat is that too!
And just watch them run!

4.
Your son’s room is ***** and untidy? He never tidies his room?
Well, today you can reverse it all: throw frogs and toads and feathers
and chicken curry and rotting pumpkins about in his room and listen to him complain in reverse, when he comes back from school:
Mum! My room is so untidy!

(Trouble is, you may still have to clean up.)

5.
Call your mum and tell her you are pregnant. (Of course your mum might have read this and she might be calling you to scare you with the same Trick.)




6.
Walk over to your neighbour’s drive-way with a new $100 broom and offer to sweep their driveway.

7.
Put up a sign outside your house just for tonight:
Give this Old House the miss.
Old Witch is back.
Old Wizard is brewing Old Lizard Potion to celebrate.

8.
Or try this sign outside your house:
No Halloween here.
Just Bold Miss-fit Blunderteen (blackbelt, TKD) lives here.

9.
Trust me, witches flying on a broomstick over trees and the moon is not a myth.
Gather all your folks and neighbours on One Tall Tree Hill, climb that tree, sit on a broom, shout: I believe! - and jump off the tree. You must also have a crowd of at least 20 for this to work.

10.
For goodness sake, just this once, try being human. Just for today. We've had enough zombie days.

this is an educated
refined, cultured, poem
fit to clothe a queen’s body
radiant enough to sit on a king’s head
no doubt,
the king’d head on a silver plate

this is elegant, truthful,
and most dignified as robes
and gold threads on a priest’s mitre
and ermine round the waists

this is immaculate,
probing, penetrative and sedate
so well-constructed, traditional
so cast into meter and scanned
so organised and adept
as a gynaecologists’s fingers

and last but not least
it is reverend, respectful and silent
as full of respect as are holy poems and sonnets
and poems all fit into good form and shape
and thus it refrains from 4-letter words
though - ****! - sometimes it slips and falls
like a drunkard, into the gutters

*but it is the fault of the terrain

1

if you meet
a snake with fangs
as large as sore thumbs
don’t put your hand out and say:
'How do you do?'
Otherwise
it’d might take a bite
and it’d say:
'How do you do?'


if you meet
an alien
in the streets
don’t say:
'Hey, what you’re
doing in my territory?'
he’d might just zap
you with his laser gun and say:
'Oh, I just dropped in to say:
Earthling, buzz off!'


if you meet God in the streets
just don’t say:
'Who do you think you are?'
for the most certain answer
from that loony would be:
'I’m God…'


if you meet the Devil in the streets –
well, you just shouldn’t be
meeting anyone like that;
just run!



2

if you meet a ghost
in the shadows
of your garden
(or anywhere
for that matter)
don’t say:
'How does it feel there?'
because it may just jump in
and say:
'Hey, it feels good to be in you.'


if you find
your pillow
on the floor
when you wake
in the middle of the night
just don’t say:
'What you doing on the floor?'
just grab it
tuck it under your head and say:
'Just stay there!'



if you find Old Jenny grandma’s dentures
in a glass beside your bed
when you wake up in the middle of the night
don’t say:
'Old Grandma – what are your dentures doing here?'
It’s yours, remember? – you are Old Jenny Grandma!


if you meet a bird in the streets
resting on a lamp post
whatever you do
just don’t stand below the light
for you never know what might land on you


if you meet me
in the streets
just don’t stretch out your hand
and don’t say:
'How do you do?'
because I’ll have to you give you the boot –
Cos, hey, I’m Bigfoot!

2
I know
once I was just like you
I was young and furious too
the world was too much
everyone made you feel
so hopeless, you think you could ****
I know exactly
how you feel

Like the time
then at work
the colleagues went on
about responsibility
and they conspired:
I was irresponsible;
they were conscientious;
I was a freeloader
Ah, the judges in one's world
the judges of one's soul

and one day
they found a worker in a bad state
dead and lying naked in the clichéd
pool of blood –
in the toilet, of all places -
with the words: “How irresponsible”
on the floor

Everyone was in a state -
I moved inter-state
I was going places

just a few days after Beethoven was buried
the local drunk heard
music over the composer's grave;
the priest came running
and he said a few prayers
and crossed the air and his chest;
the Mayor came running
and wondered if
this would be it: big dollars and tourism


and so they called for an expert in music
who listened with them
to the ninth Symphony being played
inside the grave
but backward;
and then each other symphony
from the eighth
to the first,
each played backward -
and then, duly composed, the guest expert
made his proclamation:
*There is nothing to worry
about this phenomenon
and this will end soon:
it is  merely Beethoven decomposing

hey - do you ha, ha?
I know many of you
fall in love
and make love
and do pa pa and ma ma -
but hey, do you ha, ha?

and there’s that crazy woman
who thinks she’s a Lady
and she goes ga, ga;
and some men in black
who go nuts
and go rat-a-tat
but dump them, forget them
and think about you -
well, just how often do you ha, ha
and he, he, ha, ha,
a **, **, ** and a ha, ha, ha
and la, la, di, di, da, da
and tra la la la and ha, ha, ha, ha,
he he he hoo hoo ha ha ha?

you have some animals
go moo moo
some go baa baa
and some busy with zzzz…zzzz…zzzz…
some creatures might make sa sa sa
or ssss…ssss...ssss….
and you yourself may
go la, la, or tchk! tchk! tchk!
or you might go vroom! vroom! vroom!
but do you - honestly, do you ha, ha?
well, just how often do you ha, ha
and he, he, ha, ha,
a **, **, ** and a ha, ha, ha
and la, la, di, di, da, da
and tra la la la and ha, ha, ha, ha,
he he he hoo hoo ha ha ha?

so - do you *ha, ha?

1
Gardener Moe
and Fishermen Joe
are at the pub
and Moe confesses
(his eyes shallow, and moist) -
he’s just lost his woman

“What happened?” asks Joe
his eyes as deep as the ocean

2
And so Moe groans:
“Susan just left me
It seems I whispered
in lust all night
the name of my former lover Rosie
– so Susan’s left me”

And Fisherman Joe leans forward
so he can be heard
and he shares his wisdom:
*“Even a fish, Moe, will not
get into trouble – if it know'
when to keep its mouth shut”

Pessimists are good lenders -
because they know
I’ll never return what I borrow
and it’s not worth trying to get
me to return anything

Pessimists are honest
because they tell me I’m horrid
and worthless and have no talent –
whereas my wife tells me lies about how
unique and fantastic I am
and how I’m destined
for greatness and fame
the same lies my parents and teachers
and all the sugary people in my life
told me to believe in
and so brought me to grief and megalomania–
better a pessimist than incorrigible liars

Pessimists let me do what I want:
jump the queue, rob them in daylight
steal their cars and take what I like -
because they say, with a helpless shrug:
“That’s human nature – especially people of his kind!”

Pessimists tell me the world will end tomorrow
that I’m destined for hell and I’ll never come to good –
hey, that allows me reason never to try
enjoy life for the moment
and just cruise along and let everybody else
die of stress and work-addiction

*Pessimists I love
for they validate everything I do ;
truly, they were made for me,
for they make my every wrong right…bless ‘em pessimists

Tell me anyone
Caesar or Pharaoh
Emperor or Beggar
Saint or the ****** -
tell me anyone,
if you ever found life
stable, smooth and fluid

Let's dance then
with clothes of silk
and a life of ease
let's throw our arms about
our feet like a deer in a run
a life smooth and refined
for that's the best we can do

Let life sway as in a dance
Let there be energy in purpose
and intent
And take a leap -
never a bow
Let your hair fly
and your clothes in the air
A life light and nimble
for that's the best we can do

Tell me anyone
Caesar or Pharaoh
Emperor or Beggar
Saint or the ******-
tell me anyone
if you ever found life
stable, smooth and fluid

How are writers born? What do they suffer? Do writers have to be famous? Are writers so used by readers and the characters and the stories? Does every writer end up all right?


1
"Sammy baby
You’ve got all these voices
in your head, baby"

"Is that a bad thing, mom?
Is that gonna hurt me, mom?"

2
"No, Sammy baby, cause
You’re a writer baby
You’ve got all these voices in your head
You’re a star baby
and all these people want your hands
They’re screaming to come out
They’re saying:
'Let us out'
cause you’re a writer baby"


2
"They talk to me, mom
They say: 'Please, Sammy –
give us a name;
tell our story'"

“Cause you’re a writer, baby Sammy
and  it doesn’t matter
if you live unknown
and be famous after you die
But you’re a writer
and you do what you must do
Give voice to these people
and all their lives
You may become awkward socially
and grow old to be a recluse
but with ‘em people in your head
and as a writer, you’ll be perfect
My Sammy, baby
cause you’re a writer, baby
I carried you to be a writer
You’re born to be a writer
Sammy baby, Sammy baby"


But sometimes it gets so lonely, mom…they only want to talk when they want; then they leave me alone, unwanted…used…and you’ve left me too, mom…you’re nowhere in the rooms or anywhere…

the doctors are silly
they're naive, and believe everything you tell them -
have you noticed?

I said I was sick
and had a fever
and he asked me to stick my tongue out
(see, he'd already believed me)
and he put some wood, and then some glass on my tongue
and he said, "say:'AAAAH'"
(we obviously got a doctor here
who's confused - hey, are you a doctor
or are you a Year 1 English Teacher teaching vowels?)

and then  he looked at these strange instruments
most sagaciously (just to keep up the pretence;
just to impress me, you know)
and declared most solemnly:
"You are sick.
You have a fever."
(Hey - hello! That's what I told you!
tell me something new!)

but the amazing thing is
this doctor convinced me I was actually sick
such was the power of his words
(see, you know those miracle workers?
they get you well with their words
but doctors - they get you sick with their rhetoric -
oh man, doctors really make me sick!)

And I felt sick too...I had come in just to humour my doctor
but now he'd convinced me I was really sick;
he takes my lie and then convinces me of my own lie
- boy, those doctors, you must admit
they might make you sick
but they really got the medicine man's trick!

Still, my doctor’s a sucker,
cos, let’s not forget, it’s I who told him I was sick -
he's naive, and believes everything I tell him

the last time
my long-suffering
paranoid wife
went to the dentist
she sat obediently
and when she could,
she grabbed what she could

and the dentist, always used to a
position of power, said with calm and dignity:
"Excuse me lady, you got me by my *****;
perhaps you want to take your hands off?"

"Well," said my fearful wife,
the timid victim
*"If  we all handle things easy
ain't nobody gonna hurt, okay"

Says King Kong to Ann Darrow
the blonde who screams like no other:
Mmmm….we got to talk

What? says Ann Darrow

about practicalities…real things…
…things that matter…
says King Kong

Like a pre-nuptial contract you mean?

No, says King Kong…
I mean like real things…things we have…
things that make me male,
things that make you woman…

OK, we can have a shared bank account,
says Ann Darrow


King Kong can feel it in his marrow
he’s got to be clear and narrow:
Look, Ann…
I can’t be too explicit;
my upbringing at Devil’s Island
is high on modesty;
still
I think things can be too big
and some too small,
if you know what I mean

OK, says Ann Darrow
we’ll live in Colorado;
build me a small shed in the deserts
and you can have the wide open plains

Oh, Monkey God!
says King Kong
Are you a dumb blonde or what?
I mean, Ann Darrow…
Oh, never mind…

Ah, ah…says Ann Darrow
Never hide things, King Kong
You always must bring them out
into the open!

Oh, Ann Darrow;
You speak more truth than you know –
It’s I who have things in the open
and it’s you who hide them!


I love you, says Ann Marrow
with a shrug
and gives King Kong a hug

I love you too, says King Kong
wondering how he’ll ever get through

the novices are comparing notes
proud of their teachers
(for if you boast of your Teacher
you make yourself look good)

“My teacher can go without food
for days at will,” says Owl at Lake

“My teacher is so elegant
he never yawns,” says Silk Robe

“My teacher is even better,” says Energy Jump,
“for he can go days without food, water and sleep”

“My teacher,” says Lazy Mumble,
*“I reckon has to be the best
for he eats when he has to,
drinks when he must
and yawns as much as he wants to
and sleeps when it ‘s time”

I have never been responsible
but my girlfriend said I was
I insisted I was not
and her father hired thugs
to beat me up
Isn't that funny? - the world beats
those who are responsible
and spares those who are not

the sun goes to sleep in the waters
below the bridge of Edo
(ah, the Edobashi)
and rises gentle over it when it is time*

it is morning over Nihonbashi now
and the golden glow of the early sun
is the smile that stretches like gentle colours
over festive banners and a geisha’s paper fan
like a girl’s smile, in her first blush of love

the thin light spreads out and finds its children
the back-bent men are there already
carrying their heavy loads
the fishermen carry in their catch
in baskets on poles
they saunter, purposeful
though the sleepy city is reluctant
after its nightly revels
and the dogs, the stray dogs are there too
at the gates of Nihonbashi
and the sun’s rays are like
the gentle smile of a mother discovering her children

Little David loses mum
in the big shop
and he runs around
and between aisles
shouting for his mum
“Monica! Monica! Monica!”
he shouts for his mum
and finally mum appears
and  she admonishes her son:
“You know you shouldn’t call me Monica,
son – always call me mum”

“I know mum,” says respectful little David
*“but you can see the shop is full
of mums and mums!”

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