Just finished recording twenty recent poems … 19 of which I have updated on this blog, and one has gone missing … or should I say “has been temporarily misplaced”.
Ironically, its the one about me being stuck in a small country town for three days after losing my car keys after a “Music, Art and Lifestyle” festival. Enough said about Dungog.
Here is the link to the recently recorded poems.
Hanging around in Melbourne pubs and clubs in the 1980s, being cynical and feeling sorry for myself. Ah, to be in my early thirties again! Not!
Teenage fashion junkies
Playing poor
Fifty dollar hairdos
Labels on their pants
Hip shack rhythms collide
Push through the sweat
Women yawn together
In the breaks
They wait for the split
When boy meets girl
Wishes of fulfillment
Played out on the dance floor
Coats on stranger’s tables
Melting glasses left
To stand bereft
Throb of disco calls
Ears and necks offer
Glitters of fleshy bait
For the bodies below
Cynicism blocks easy flow
Too many night clubs
Around the world
Make the watcher wary
Everything’s a game
Time loses meaning
Lust remains the same
Dancing video sets the pace
Tempts awkward dancers
With existence
In another place
I’ve been trawling through old notebooks and found some old poems to rework.
Here is one I quite like for its observation and simplicity.
once pretty
her pinched & harrowed
ghost
still lingers in flashes
as she guides
the innocent
push-chair child
through the busy
urban footpath
This is one from the vaults. A friend was experiencing a bad case of the blues.
I wrote this poem to share with her and others my experience of the black dog’s bite.
bull aligns with ox
projects are on hold
make dreams happen
channel abundance
survival mode sux
black dog prowls
snarling
nips at vulnerability
then bites down hard
beyond the blue daze
we look back for clues
grateful for love support
gentle kicks in the arse
triumph mode roars
happy dapper chappies
give it all to all
and it’s worth it
make dreams happen
Here’s a nice game I played a month or so ago. A bunch of words that seem vaguely Shakespearean and a large white fridge. Inhale. Play. This is what I came up with.
Given enough poetic license, I suspect any combination would sound profound.
That is all.
