mauve and red on azure hue
jacarandas, flame trees and summer blue
that time again of heat
and inappropriate rituals
we grew here
and santa clause flew here!
who does he think he is?
roast dinners while paul kelly
asks who will make the gravy
bush fire victims needy of funding
while millions are spent on fireworks
as though there wasn’t enough smoke
or air pollution
families who avoid each other
through the year
gather with cheap coloured paper hats
and pull the ritual bonbon
and tell bad puns
to fill the gaps in conversation
and the cicadas sing out
the banality, the ennui
while cashed up families
tow caravans up and down the coast
to camping area suburbias
and celebrate their right
to overeat and drink beer
their god given entitlement
to be strayan
and talk about queue jumpers
that’s why i make my own ritual
based on the good things
of that time ...
respite from daily routine
time for quiet reflection
on the worth
of who you are
and who you’ve helped
the things about xmas in australia that i don’t like
something chasing after me, saltine
biscuits trailing my feet, salty tears soaking
them through their flaky meat, lotus dreams and
finite weeks, never running away from time, instead
waiting for it to catch up to our heels and
leave crumbs behind
time was sluggish and easy when I took it into my arms,
pliant when I bent it around my arms, hula hooping
lifting me to the tips of my feet, time knew me
better than the parents I’ll never meet,
dusty paths and soles of feet pattering on
time tells me that I should have been a runaway
ennui says I’m ***** souled and
listless and too far away
sugar in gas tanks and fingers plugged in ears kind of thing
chasing cheap thrills to kingdom come
until the moon is a gleam of white and
mixes and melds with the lines of
empty candle wicks
pop bottles popping off, night breezes, a kiss under palm trees
(ennui uplifted momentarily)
southern Arizona and cool synths, runaway dream
onomatopoeia making a home in our daydreams
furtive eyes seeking to find God, but
reality crashing down around me
hello? relative listlessness says
greeting myself and my other selves
bringing them together with twine
and setting it alight
anyone? clouds of words siphoned underneath
my feet, too many eyes that I find myself, strangely,
unable to meet
alone and afloat, submerged in the sea
simultaneously sinking and floating in
groups of threes
matching my heartbeat
making my mouth sweet
there? the ocean bed I never expected to see
nothing in my line of sight, so perhaps,
there wasn't really anything ever to see
voice bounds off into the periphery
between the boundary of things I try to meet
but can never reach
Boredom digs itself a hole,
manages its soul.
A snare of despair
into the straits
Idle hands (friends?) demons substance abuse suicidal thoughts snares death hades
If eyes roll
In the forest
Would a tree
Maybe I am stuck
because I am waiting to be moved.
Maybe I can move
somebody who feels stuck.
I loop the songs I love
until I choke them of all emotion.
I stumble through words
from a million brilliant minds
searching for madness akin to mine.
Pictures, stories, art,
opinions, musings, crafts –
I gnaw at everything for hidden meaning.
Am I even human if nothing moves me?
Do I deserve death if I never learned to live?
Spur my soul, stir my heart
you, who knows exactly what I mean.
Or hark my bemoaning
as the graceless floundering
of unmoored ennui.
Even before our first date
You make sure we have The Conversation
Heaven forbid I should mistake you for a man of honor
That I should have any expectation....
That you know how to treat me
As a friend .....or a lover
As a woman of substance
A lady not a *****
Your immaturity doesn’t surprise me
But until that moment that you showed your hand
I was willing to suspend my disbelief
To give you the benefit of the doubt
To let you set the bar higher
But you succeeded in lowering my expectations
Seeking a REAL MAN. Open heart, available future, ready for something true and awesome. Players and half-hearted daters need not apply. Bring the fire or go elsewhere looking for your fun cuddle bunny.....not to sound jaded. I'm not bitter. I'm just NOT wasting my time on manboys because I believe REAL MEN are out there and I want to find mine.
Lighting the neon,
In your eyes,
Gazing into mine,
Which was all it took,
To turn off the current,
And **** the light
Proudly standing, rigid trees
Swaying gently in the breeze
We watch the shadows fall
Switches whip, the twigs are severed
Yet the mighty wood persevers
Awaiting its next call
Day becomes night; sunshine ends
Branches soon begin to bend
Raw bark peels in strips.
Autumn comes; the trees must fight
For each burning speck of light
Drudged from unwilling lips.
We watch them quiver in the breeze
The axe-man comes to fell the trees
The thinnest shall go first.
Year by year, the seasons change
We ignore the passing strange
Stiff bodies, in one hearse.
No one knows if it shall end
The loss of foe, alike with friend
Means sunlight for the living.
“What shall happen to them all?”
Still we watch the shadows fall
A gift that keeps on giving.