Chrystal

Fragile,strong,
delicate, sharp,
lovely
and out of reach
bright burning
crystal
of the north

house to burn: To Do list

house to burn
food to eat
rent to earn
wife to beat

roof to leak
rats to kill
sink to break
drains to fill

drugs to try
floors to crawl
skies to melt
clouds to fly
legs to sprawl
kids to belt

car to crash
clothes to rip
seats to slash
hair to clip

teeth to smash
skin to tear
friends to bash
cops to scare

girls to fuck
bike to steal
bend to turn
tar to suck
skids to wheel
life to burn

A rose for genesis

A rose for genesis
but a petunia for revelations
and she said
I think I'll change religions
become a Christian
like it was oil
in the machine soul
- time for a change,
drop it into the mechanics

and I said you
gotta have faith
(faith-faith-faith, do-wup)
how would you know
you never had none
which is true I guess
and how I got here
with no lubrication
I dont know

all I know is
when I wave my hand
at the light
it goes out
- sometimes! -
and I believe in that

The moon laughed

we sat, squatting on a solar kerb
and whirled the Way with our hands
giggling in innocent malice
We set conundrums
poised at ninety degrees
to line of sight

The moon laughed
and we reached out
gave some monkeys
delusions of grandeur
and oh look
doesnt this one look emtpyh?

The moon laughed twice
and spat a planet
or two for company
and we stood up reaching
for another galaxy
to casually stuff in our pockets

the moon laughed three times
and we folded ourselves
into a backpack and sat
on the side of a dusty
Australian road.

Death poem

All I am
and all I'll ever be
is rain on the storm
from the mountains
to the sea

When I'm dead
don't grieve
dont mourn for me
just buy a candle,
light it
and let it weep
wax tears free

I want to be light

I want to be light,
fly above
care foregone
hover and dazzle
not clay boot clad
weighted down to earth

I want to be light
funny and free
not locked into
possibility

I want to be light
unbearably bright
glowing with the future
fast flowing
not black and
morose

Hard headed Friend

If ou can't tell
teh dancer from the dance
how can you separate
the dreamer from the dream
or look to see
purple waves of reality
that form the dreamer
from red pusling strands
of possibility

If life is but a dream
within a dream
then try to count
the falling leaves outside
to tell which way
your feet will follow
tomorrow

Gods of reason
idols of logic
lock your step
to robot rhythm
but the kaleidoscope
visions of reality
sparkling and sun-edged
sleet past you unseen
- as if the world held
no more hope than
the careful donation
to select charity

The dreams that create you,
form the core of your being
you dismiss as no more
than fanciful illusions
dream dust on the storms
of rational grasp

The day the dream makes,
and the dream the day makes

Divorced

I once said - I love you
but I
am not who I thought
I was
and you
are not who I thought
you were
and love
is not what I thought
it was
Still,
I love you.

Night Fevers

The last of the leaves
are falling
on the Bamboo Bar queens
dancing straight-armed
arm-in-arm
a tango into the past:
and the pregnant moon
ellow with corn
highlights
bleach-blond hair

Clamping rags in their teeth
new-age roses
for their flamenco
they chant and
dance with fervour,
amazons godstruck
with love and death
fever

More light!

More light! more light!
the Preacher called
and asked for her forgiveness

Heat me and beat me
and show me my sins
fill me with your emptiness

Tighter and tighter
around my hips
grind me into submission

thrill me and chill me
abandon my flesh
and give me into rejection

The Couch

With a sad
side-gapped smile
our couch invites
you
luring your seat

and

as you disappear
inside it
Geoff will call
"If you see Jim Morrison
or Elvis down there,
tell them
it's time
to come up"

Poetic License

Damn!
here I am
again
poised and confident
clear voiced and cross legged
ready to read
and I've no permission:
I think I left
my poetic license
on the table a
as I went out the door

A mighty Totara has fallen

 (from the epitaph for Charles Stewart Lawrence, from his son)

The shades of old soldiers
gather to honour the
fallen-at-last
fewer by the year
stooped with age
rigid with pride

"I move among the
men of the bush
I walk among the outdoor people
and the mountains are empty now"
No solitary fire lights his face no leave
crackle under his careful feet

The springs and rivers
gurgle unknown tears
of mourning and
the birds mark his
passing into shadow
with solitary song
under wireless sky

mighty in kindness
strong in gentleness
great in meekness
fallen at last

Talk to me

Sunday night and i
am drunk with your
presence
& the quick white words
faith and strength
you flash at me
my sombre blue brightened
flushed with the aroma
you surround me

Pasta and win mix
with the atmosphere
and you play songs
of love like fish
glittering in the
background see
while you talk
to me

Under the Ngaio Tree

Waking, drifting between pain and unconsciousness
pushed by tides of medications and tugged
by the moons of disease
- yellow, gibbous, and hanging too close

Your phone call jerked me up
struggling on the hook of aware
and your hearty greeting
banished the shade of suffering
while sun through dull curtain
shaded my skin to healthy brown

We chatted & talked of work again
while the back of my mind turned again
spinning through ways to reach you
rummaging through purple painstars
and dusty brown clogged thoughts
dredging up black and empty ideas

When I settled back down and stgretched
eased my back & my conscience
and soohted my over screamed throat
with a pale flat glass of water
I played our conversation back
realised the limits again
of friendship and care
and sung to myself yuor parting words

they covered me with soft green shade of friendship
bleached the harsh brilliance of sales and genius

Tomorrow's dawn

gloering sun
gorse hills frowning
at my eternal
I am
against the city