Where’s Madge then,
Madge and her men?
buried with
Alice in her hair,
(but if you ask the rain
he’ll not tell where.)

beauty makes terms
with time and his worms,
when loveliness
says sweetly Yes
to wind and cold;
and how much earth
is Madge worth?
Inquire of the flower that sways in the autumn
she will never guess.
but i know

my heart fell dead before.

I
First Love

THOUGH nurtured like the sailing moon
In beauty's murderous brood,
She walked awhile and blushed awhile
And on my pathway stood
Until I thought her body bore
A heart of flesh and blood.
But since I laid a hand thereon
And found a heart of stone
I have attempted many things
And not a thing is done,
For every hand is lunatic
That travels on the moon.
She smiled and that transfigured me
And left me but a lout,
Maundering here, and maundering there,
Emptier of thought
Than the heavenly circuit of its stars
When the moon sails out.

II
Human Dignity
Like the moon her kindness is,
If kindness I may call
What has no comprehension in't,
But is the same for all
As though my sorrow were a scene
Upon a painted wall.
So like a bit of stone I lie
Under a broken tree.
I could recover if I shrieked
My heart's agony
To passing bird, but I am dumb
From human dignity.

III
The Mermaid
A mermaid found a swimming lad,
Picked him for her own,
Pressed her body to his body,
Laughed; and plunging down
Forgot in cruel happiness
That even lovers drown.

IV
The Death of the Hare
I have pointed out the yelling pack,
The hare leap to the wood,
And when I pass a compliment
Rejoice as lover should
At the drooping of an eye,
At the mantling of the blood.
Then' suddenly my heart is wrung
By her distracted air
And I remember wildness lost
And after, swept from there,
Am set down standing in the wood
At the death of the hare.

V
The Empty Cup
A crazy man that found a cup,
When all but dead of thirst,
Hardly dared to wet his mouth
Imagining, moon-accursed,
That another mouthful
And his beating heart would burst.
October last I found it too
But found it dry as bone,
And for that reason am I crazed
And my sleep is gone.

VI
His Memories
We should be hidden from their eyes,
Being but holy shows
And bodies broken like a thorn
Whereon the bleak north blows,
To think of buried Hector
And that none living knows.
The women take so little stock
In what I do or say
They'd sooner leave their cosseting
To hear a ******* bray;
My arms are like the twisted thorn
And yet there beauty lay;
The first of all the tribe lay there
And did such pleasure take --
She who had brought great Hector down
And put all Troy to wreck --
That she cried into this ear,
"Strike me if I shriek.'

VII
The Friends of his Youth
Laughter not time destroyed my voice
And put that crack in it,
And when the moon's ***-bellied
I get a laughing fit,
For that old Madge comes down the lane,
A stone upon her breast,
And a cloak wrapped about the stone,
And she can get no rest
With singing hush and hush-a-bye;
She that has been wild
And barren as a breaking wave
Thinks that the stone's a child.
And Peter that had great affairs
And was a pushing man
Shrieks, "I am King of the Peacocks,'
And perches on a stone;
And then I laugh till tears run down
And the heart thumps at my side,
Remembering that her shriek was love
And that he shrieks from pride.

VIII
Summer and Spring
We sat under an old thorn-tree
And talked away the night,
Told all that had been said or done
Since first we saw the light,
And when we talked of growing up
Knew that we'd halved a soul
And fell the one in t'other's arms
That we might make it whole;
Then peter had a murdering look,
For it seemed that he and she
Had spoken of their childish days
Under that very tree.
O what a bursting out there was,
And what a blossoming,
When we had all the summer-time
And she had all the spring!

IX
The Secrets of the Old
I have old women's sectets now
That had those of the young;
Madge tells me what I dared not think
When my blood was strong,
And what had drowned a lover once
Sounds like an old song.
Though Margery is stricken dumb
If thrown in Madge's way,
We three make up a solitude;
For none alive to-day
Can know the stories that we know
Or say the things we say:
How such a man pleased women most
Of all that are gone,
How such a pair loved many years
And such a pair but one,
Stories of the bed of straw
Or the bed of down.

X
His Wildness
O bid me mount and sail up there
Amid the cloudy wrack,
For peg and Meg and Paris' love
That had so straight a back,
Are gone away, and some that stay
Have changed their silk for sack.
Were I but there and none to hear
I'd have a peacock cry,
For that is natural to a man
That lives in memory,
Being all alone I'd nurse a stone
And sing it lullaby.

XI
From 'Oedipus at Colonus'
Endure what life God gives and ask no longer span;
Cease to remember the delights of youth, travel-wearied aged man;
Delight becomes death-longing if all longing else be vain.
Even from that delight memory treasures so,
Death, despair, division of families, all entanglements of mankind grow,
As that old wandering beggar and these God-hated children know.
In the long echoing street the laughing dancers throng,
The bride is catried to the bridegroom's chamber
through torchlight and tumultuous song;
I celebrate the silent kiss that ends short life or long.
Never to have lived is best, ancient writers say;
Never to have drawn the breath of life, never to have
looked into the eye of day;
The second best's a gay goodnight and quickly turn away.

I have old women's secrets now
That had those of the young;
Madge tells me what I dared not think
When my blood was strong,
And what had drowned a lover once
Sounds like an old song.

Though Margery is stricken dumb
If thrown in Madge's way,
We three make up a solitude;
For none alive to-day
Can know the stories that we know
Or say the things we say:

How such a man pleased women most
Of all that are gone,
How such a pair loved many years
And such a pair but one,
Stories of the bed of straw
Or the bed of down.

i am,
the spoon left in
the icecream bowl.
i am,
the towel on the
bathroom floor.
i am,
the toys in the cupboard
and more.
i am,
the vase with bright flowers.
i am,
the left over lasange
in the fridge.
i am,
the dinosaur doona
that snuggles your boy.
i am,
the bedhead that
watches you sleep.
i am,
the old clock
on the mantle,
wonky time i do keep.
i am,
cotton and lace knickers,
jocks and striped socks,
jumbled up in a cedar drawer.
i am,
toothbrushes and bathplugs.
i am,
the tattered, striped hall rug.
i am,
pictures of two, then three.
i am,
the couch, the oversized tv.
i am
the desk and the books.
i am
the mirror that looks
old and faded.
i am,
art projects, created
and afixed on the wall.
i am,
coffee table
and
featherstone chair,
none too stable.
i am,
walls of teak
and roof of
colourbond steel.

i am
house and home
and if i could speak,
well, it would be
downright surreal.

i am,
comfort and warmth.
i am,
refuge and rest.
i am,
old and creaking.
i am,
heaven blest.

i am,
haven,
from lifes storms.

and i am  more,
you made me
this way,
with love,
you and yours.

"Jessie, Jessie Cameron,
   Hear me but this once," quoth he.
"Good luck go with you, neighbor's son,
  But I'm no mate for you," quoth she.
Day was verging toward the night
  There beside the moaning sea,
Dimness overtook the light
  There where the breakers be.
"O Jessie, Jessie Cameron,
  I have loved you long and true."--
"Good luck go with you, neighbor's son,
  But I'm no mate for you."

She was a careless, fearless girl,
  And made her answer plain;
Outspoken she to earl or churl,
  Kind-hearted in the main,
But somewhat heedless with her tongue,
  And apt at causing pain;
A mirthful maiden she and young,
  Most fair for bliss or bane.
"O, long ago I told you so,
  I tell you so to-day:
Go you your way, and let me go
  Just my own free way."

The sea swept in with moan and foam
  Quickening the stretch of sand;
They stood almost in sight of home;
  He strove to take her hand.
"O, can't you take your answer then,
  And won't you understand?
For me you're not the man of men,
  I've other plans are planned.
You're good for Madge, or good for Cis,
  Or good for Kate, may be:
But what's to me the good of this
  While you're not good for me?"

They stood together on the beach,
  They two alone,
And louder waxed his urgent speech,
  His patience almost gone:
"O, say but one kind word to me,
  Jessie, Jessie Cameron."--
"I'd be too proud to beg," quoth she,
  And pride was in her tone.
And pride was in her lifted head,
  And in her angry eye,
And in her foot, which might have fled,
  But would not fly.

Some say that he had gypsy blood,
  That in his heart was guile:
Yet he had gone through fire and flood
  Only to win her smile.
Some say his grandam was a witch,
  A black witch from beyond the Nile,
Who kept an image in a niche
  And talked with it the while.
And by her hut far down the lane
  Some say they would not pass at night,
Lest they should hear an unked strain
  Or see an unked sight.

Alas, for Jessie Cameron!--
  The sea crept moaning, moaning nigher:
She should have hastened to be gone,--
  The sea swept higher, breaking by her:
She should have hastened to her home
  While yet the west was flushed with fire,
But now her feet are in the foam,
  The sea-foam, sweeping higher.
O mother, linger at your door,
  And light your lamp to make it plain;
But Jessie she comes home no more,
  No more again.

They stood together on the strand,
  They only, each by each;
Home, her home, was close at hand,
  Utterly out of reach.
Her mother in the chimney nook
  Heard a startled sea-gull screech,
But never turned her head to look
  Towards the darkening beach:
Neighbors here and neighbors there
  Heard one scream, as if a bird
Shrilly screaming cleft the air:--
  That was all they heard.

Jessie she comes home no more,
  Comes home never;
Her lover's step sounds at his door
  No more forever.
And boats may search upon the sea
  And search along the river,
But none know where the bodies be:
  Sea-winds that shiver,
Sea-birds that breast the blast,
  Sea-waves swelling,
Keep the secret first and last
  Of their dwelling.

Whether the tide so hemmed them round
  With its pitiless flow,
That when they would have gone they found
  No way to go;
Whether she scorned him to the last
  With words flung to and fro,
Or clung to him when hope was past,
  None will ever know:
Whether he helped or hindered her,
  Threw up his life or lost it well,
The troubled sea, for all its stir,
  Finds no voice to tell.

Only watchers by the dying
  Have thought they heard one pray,
Wordless, urgent; and replying,
  One seem to say him nay:
And watchers by the dead have heard
  A windy swell from miles away,
With sobs and screams, but not a word
  Distinct for them to say:
And watchers out at sea have caught
  Glimpse of a pale gleam here or there,
Come and gone as quick as thought,
  Which might be hand or hair.

Laughter not time destroyed my voice
And put that crack in it,
And when the moon's ***-bellied
I get a laughing fit,
For that old Madge comes down the lane,
A stone upon her breast,
And a cloak wrapped about the stone,
And she can get no rest
With singing hush and hush-a-bye;
She that has been wild
And barren as a breaking wave
Thinks that the stone's a child.

And Peter that had great affairs
And was a pushing man
Shrieks, 'I am King of the Peacocks,'
And perches on a stone;
And then I laugh till tears run down
And the heart thumps at my side,
Remembering that her shriek was love
And that he shrieks from pride.

Now is the time for a long term relationship.
I declare my intentions online
Tazmin comes through. She’s just come out of a ten year relationship.
She could be the one.
Okay, she’s just come out of prison after ten years. Caught the boyfriend cheating on her.
Okay Tazmin, get back to you.
Right, Chantelle has split from her long time lover Rosie. She wants to try something new. But i need to get a *** change.
Don’t know if that’s lesbian humour or not.
Message from Candy. Get a life *******.
I just know she’s the one. But i’m not lowering myself to that level just yet.
Tina. ******* hate men.
You don’t know me Tina.
You’re a man, that’s enough.
Any sensible women out there.
Madge, I’m 84 looking for a relationship. My last lover died on the job.
Madge. For fucksakes take up knitting.
Listen up you lot, it’s not my problem  you can’t keep your men, or women.
Okay maybe shouldn’t have said that.
You *******. Followed by, I’ll stick they knitting needles where the sun don’t shine. I’ll do another ten years for you.  Oh, and. ****** tossing *******.
What the hell happened to the gentle ***.
This was not how I expected things to turn out.
Let's get back to basics
Any of you lot want to go out tonight and get ******, have unprotected ***. I’m paying.
Computer’s going nuts now.
I’m in.  You’re the man. Why didn’t you just say that the first time.
*******, can I bring a friend.
Happy birthday Paul.

All I know is locked inside my soul.
I heard them say it's all okay.
I want more than before someday.
My prayers never get answers.
Dissolves like a cancer.
Concentrating on waiting.
Impatience that's debating.
Autumn mist exists it's falling.
Do you hear nature calling?
Your lust appeals to my disgust.
You are no one I trust.
Can't you see me & just let me be me?
This mood is what I conclude.
Your lack of empathy is rude.
How I feel is what we all appeal.
I know what's fake & what is real.
Your misguided.
To you I confided.
Your room is where you hided.
You decide the seven deadly sins.
One of them is pride.
What is the prize you win?
Unmarked treasure, unclaimed & unmeasured.
Misery festers, judges are jesters.
As the family court house crumbles.
Judge gerald jessop stumbles.
Georgia mansury the mediator mumbles.
Terrance chucas the minors counsel tumbles.
Child protective services fumble.
Ariel is living a life that is humble.
***** donor in defeat he grumbles.
The *** offender data base profiles are ready to rumble. The madge bradley building will fall. Once & for all.

Garth lay still in the gilded cage
Unable to move a thing,
The bars were merely spiders’ webs
Of a faery’s magicking.
He’d wandered into the Faery Ring
Where he’d seen the mushrooms spread,
And now was caught in a faery spell
With the rest of the living dead.

With Tom, the Candlestick Maker’s son
And a barrel of candlewax,
He’d dawdled home from the marketplace
And lay in the beckoning grass.
He woke to find he was tightly bound
With a faery up on his chest,
She said, ‘Lock him in the cage as well,
Along with all of the rest.’

And Madge, the maid with a milking pail
Who was sent to milk the cow,
She’d wandered off on her way; she thought,
She needed to feed the sow.
She woke to mushrooms, ten feet tall
All towering over her head,
The stalks were bars, set under the stars
And her limbs, they felt like lead.

While Tim the Tinker was there as well
With his knives and sharpening tools,
His grindstone lay in a pile of hay
And the bonds on him were cruel.
The beggar lay in his filthy rags
While the rich man muttered, ‘Shame!’
He’d soiled his boots and his Regency suit,
Was bound with his watch and chain.

They lie not far from the caravans
Of a gypsy camping ground,
So Faeries say: ‘Let’s take them away
Before they’re seen and found!’
But dancing into the faery ring
Is the Gypsy, Mavourneen,
Who stumbles over the gilded cage
And steps on the Faery Queen.

The top flies off from the gilded cage,
The webs of the bars are torn,
And Garth crawls over the mushroom heads
To swear, ‘I feel reborn!’
The faeries weep as they carry their Queen
In death, to their Faery Dell,
There’s mushrooms still in that Faery Ring,
But now, Toadstools as well!

David Lewis Paget

Sequester thee eternal sunshine.
The hummingbird does not speak to me.
Symbolizing a new beginning.
Harmony brings Destiny.
Doing the devil's work is heartless.
He can believe liars to this day.
For the biast lies about me the mediator had to say.
I thought heresay was irrelevant.
Her recommendations to the judge were sent.
I was not chosen.
My parental rights frozen.
Demons in human form in the courtroom posing.
Judge Gerald Jessop retired without remorse.
His senseless verdicts concluded it's course.
Who does he think he is to say
or think how we deserve to be separated this way.
At my side is the only place for Ariel to stay.

To take a child from their mother as a baby & a little girl is not for their best interest.
It was traumatizing enough everytime I had to leave just to work my shift.
The judge & his minions at Madge Bradley Downtown can drink giraffe ****.
For what they did to my daughter & I's relationship
The devil horned one of red flesh can escort them with his pitchfork to hell as a trip.
Another sunrise they can skip.
Some evil is so bad that not even fire can destroy it
The natural order of things this way is meant.
The biast liars be ****** & die endless torment.

I am now 38.
Justice shouldn't be a courthouse debate.
We shouldn't have to wait.
To be successful to feel great.
Never will I ever forgive who I hate.
Hopefully I will get married before forty.
I have no self pity or a complex of "poor me".
A truth you can feel but not see.
The old lady filed a restraining order against me.
To keep me from my only family my baby.
The custody case dragged on a year & a half until never replaced maybe.
She kidnapped my child.
Portrayed me as mental & wild.
The Madge Bradley Building mediator Georgia Mansury didn't believe my story in 2006 when she took my daughter away from me & gave her to my mom.
The family courthouse should blow up like a bomb.
I know I am in her best interest.
Ariel's mom she had missed.
The town of North Clairemont in San Diego.
A place friends never go.
We went to Alcott Elementary school.
Laws can't protect the ****** from rules.
We lived at 3266 Idlewild Way.
A place I am glad we no longer stay.
True story the police said it was a low priority case.
The future can't make the past erase.
I called them 20 years later.
So the reason my mom & why I hate her.
So I hung up & said "nevermind".
Somewhere evil still exists in this place & time.
They said it would take a really long time.
A nightmare of mine.
When I was 12 & my sister was nine.
We got ***** 365 times times 4.
A stranger showed up at our door.
He had a metallic blue helmet & motorcycle.
He got us bicycles.
She never had a clue.
His execution is long overdue.
My mom moved in a pedofile.
To live with us 3 or 4 years for awhile.
I think he had been on Americas Most Wanted for escaping from a correctional facility.
Monsters like him don't get any pity.
He said if we told anyone he would **** us.
His felonies were never a bust.
Registered or unregistered.
*** offenders should never get parolled.
They should stay locked up til their dead & old.
In mexico or anywhere else children's *** is not something that should be sold.
I hated my life.
No one ever asked me to be their wife.
She bought him cartons of cigarettes & beer.
My dad she had kicked out that year.
My dad died at 81 in 2009 I told him the truth before.
How a child molestor made us his *****.
He made me carry dead fish from the tank in my hand to the toilet.
It traumatized me bit by bit.
My life has become ****.
He strangled the dog next door with his own leash.
Nobody knew about our grief.
Justice has no relief.
When he went away.
We could go out & play.
After that all new days he hadn't had his way.
My mom told me to touch his **** telling me it was okay that it was just skin.
I never did. I knew it was an illegal sin.
He whipped us with his belt for being late.
I was unsure of my future fate.
Being there was not happy or fun.
My mom bought him a gun.
Where would we go if we had run.
He spit in my cereal is the rest.
He ****** on my toothbrush I detest.
He choked my sister to death.
He ressitated her she told her teacher.
The police never knew to reach her.
1988 our lives got ruined.
The damage is congruent.
1991 was when the **** ended.
Children got sexually offended.