#NaPoWriMo Day TwentySix – SummerTime

Although, technically it’s Autumn here Summer did revisit us for ANZAC Day. I wrote this whilst sitting along the banks of the Yarra River. Louis Armstrong & Ella Fitzgerald do a great cover of this song – SummerTime.

 

 

“Summer time… and the livin’ is easy… fish are jumpin’… and the cotton is high…”

 

the saxophonists notes follow her along the river

as she looks down on the black swans floating

from the steps of a faux Parisian cafe

on a beautiful faux summer day.

 

“… Oh, your daddy’s rich… and your mamma’s good lookin’… so hush, little baby… don’t you cry…”

 

a little girl reaches and clasps her grandfather’s hand

his medals glistening in the sun; a weary veteran

nods slowly and carefully to the whispers in his ears

comfortably surrounded by his future.

 

“… One of these mornings… you’re going to rise up singing… then you’ll spread your wings… and take to the sky…”

 

the banks of the river burst with soul

a young student girl charms us with an upturned wok

a young veteran strums his aged guitar

while a young  flautist hums her way into the urban orchestra.

 

“… But until that morning… there’s nothing can harm you… with your daddy and mummy standing by…”

 

on the grass a group of primary children

create chalk drawings of sunshine

and city views – they love their country

sparkling pride in their young little eyes.

 

“… Summertime… and the livin’ is easy…”

 

 

#NaPoWriMo Day TwentyThree – “Talking Brunswick Street”

Inspired by http://www.napowrimo.net prompt:  ‘New York School’ poems.  I don’t think it’s finished. But is a poem ever really finished…

 

It’s 8am on Tuesday and I am on the tram

you could say: it’s just Monday 2.0

so naturally I’m late and it’s raining – damn!

Is it sunny over there? I bet it is, laughing at me

I bet you’ve been doing a rain dance secretly.

It’s against the law to make it rain here, seriously!

Oh, I’m just crouched on the cold metal steps

looking out on a washed out Brunswick Street

it’s moving ever so slowly! Mmm… I can smell the coffee and crepes!

I can see Fitzroy-ans dancing through trams and cars

in a sea of boots, poncho’s and umbrellas

in a long narrow valley of cafes, shops and bars.

Lights are flickering in the old comic book store

Oh Marty, ‘Back to the Future’ is now

your movie is so old it predates Persy’s next door.

Posters and banners flapping in chilly wind

will we ever escape the daggy dolls we were yesterday

when fun was getting off our faces and succumbing to sins.

Don’t stop the music and oh, just dance

the numb blur of college life, I don’t remember

except when we dreamt of moving to the south of France.

But 2014, oh, a communication revolution

look at us talking wirelessly from either side of the world

Can you hear me? Wait, can you see me? Technological evolution.

Mr Asmiov hit the metaphorical nail on the head:

“humanity will go into hibernation” – indeed

it’s true what the 1960’s sci-fi guy predicted.

Speaking of, did you know it’s illegal to trade with pirates

here, so if we upload, download and freeload

aren’t we essentially criminals – just open-closet-pirates.

Think about it – I’ll peruse my books

while washed out Brunswick Street starts its day

in one of Melbourne’s much loved coffee nooks.

#NaPoWriMo Day Nine – “Ode to a Lava Cake”

Lava Cake

 

I remember the first day we met

Like a thief, you’ve stolen my heart!

Rescue me from this ghastly wet

You know, you had me from the start.

Whenever the sky cries her tears

And the world becomes shades of grey

I think of you to rid my fears

Your warm embrace brightens my day.

I love your chocolatey goodness

And the way you ooze down my throat

Your awesomeness is – well – madness

hidden inside your spongy coat.

So here’s to you my lava cake

Now go away – for my diets sake!

 

 

 

 

#NaPoWriMo14 Day Three “Here and Now”

Laneway music; apple ciders

Asian street food; Pancake Parlour

Queen Vic Market; Pot n Parma’s

Moonlight movies; Cocktail Spiders.

 

This is where my story is set

my first love; i’ll never forget

but, this is where my heart calls home

this place, somewhere over the foam.

 

Authors Note:

I recently discovered these guys on YouTube and as I was walking through the city on my way to work ‘Be Okay’ was blaring through my little white ear plugs and I thought: I love this city but more importantly I love the life I have here… thus my inspiration for Day 3 challenge.

 

 

Northcote

IMG_6690

 

sunday afternoon

coffee, cake, and live music

trees dance in the wind

a dear friend stops and says ‘hello’

shared moments in our story.

 

smooth cream of cheesecake

nestled upon a biscuit

a hint of lemon

is like bite-size happiness

a taste of innocent love

 

black crow on the roof

watches the sea of people

on an autumn day

she sits and drinks her coffee

her eyes searching for her prey

 

Composed upon a White Night

Melbournians circulate savoir-faire

in chambers of light, music and motion;

a coagulation of devotion;

virtuosity the hub of this square.

Pumping throughout the veins of the city

a plethora of colour; projecting

a collective nucleus connecting

in an atrium of urbanity.

The ground beneath me sending pulsations

a transient nuit blanche chasing the dawn

a sense of belonging; quite a sensation

when you are gone; I, we, will be forlorn.

For you are the heart, the soul, of us all

you see us; you hear us; we can stand tall

 

.IMG_6546 IMG_6569 IMG_6577 IMG_6660

Heatwave Holiday

Yesterday as I lay melting
It was hot; stuffy; sweltering
but then you thundered in – like that
the saviour of us crazy cats!
You roared across the sunburnt state
You left sweet relief in your wake.
The city – dancing in the rain
spinning around – there is no shame
Please don’t leave us! Please don’t go away
we love you dearly! please, please, stay!
Thanks to you we can breathe again;
you’re beautiful – our long lost friend!
IMG_5346

‘Straya Day

Hypnotised under a blue southern sky;

I hear, the twitter of birds from the roof,

And rustle of trees in a summer breeze.

Listening, musing, reflecting, the day through.

Soon, I hear, the soft purr of an engine

As a mate, comes home, consumed with folly;

Who, happy and drunk, bellows from the street:

“If only I could win the lottery”

As his laughter fades into his town house

My mind echoes on his conversation.

Images of last night’s doco weighs in

Playing with my thoughts, my meditation.

Today is about the lucky country;

Like a billabong of long time ago

Every nation has been to this great land

Our strong diversity – is all we know.

We are a nation of freedom and choice,

Although it hasn’t always been the case

But we are growing, with education;

And patience, and respect to each other’s place.

We get to breathe the sun and the sea.

We get to dance under the Southern Cross.

We get to laugh and sing to our hearts content.

We never have to be alone, sorry or lost.

Still the helicopter tears through the blue

Like a reminder that all is not fair,

It roars from the mountains to the city

Looking for hope, faith, someone to care.

So, the question of lottery? Is this.

We exist. We dance to our own beat

Knowing tomorrow will come, safe and sound.

We got the jackpot – on humanity!

IMG_6357