Places

Places

Up in the hills of Merri Creek
Dancing around my red brick walls
I breathe in the eucalyptus
Listening to urban laughs and tram bells
Wrapped in blankets of holidays past
Dreaming of the day I can leave
Just so I can come home again.

Metaphorical Self-Portrait

Metaphorical Self-Portrait

I am the steeple’s rose
Lost in enigmatic love
I want to be that pig in mud
Playing in a sea of straw.
But I inhale the dragon
Stone-washed eyes
Mask frustration
As the fear burns.
The rose forgets to breathe,
When it’s caught in a breeze.

NaPoWriMo 2017 7/30

Thirteen Reasons why Today didn’t suck.

One
Autumn night, well played
A fresh to start the day.
Two
Waking up to the big blue,
is an Aussie’s Paradise.
Three
Ding Ding, the café bell
Madam Rosa knows me well.
Four
Coffee beans and toasted bacon,
Taste buds have awoken.
Five
City heels find their strut
music on, iPhone plugged.
Six
Happy chaos on the street,
nods to those we meet.
Seven
Chocolate Orange Mocha
meant good vibrations at the lockers.
Eight
Smiles and conversations,
we found our destination.
Nine
“Here’s your boost juice, babe”
My favourite mint and kale.
Ten
A Southern Cross hottie,
smiles and winks at me.
Eleven
My phone constantly glows,
with plans for April tomorrows.
Twelve
Office sing a long,
we know our working song.
Thirteen
Home to a branded Charlie
inspiring another story.

NapoWriMo 2017 5/30 – Who is he?

He comes to the world on an English stage,
His words branded into all the children.
His thoughts flicker through every writes page,
a wise master to all men and women.

He travelled from Europe to the Middle East,
from London to the streets of Verona.
He twisted truth like a romantic beast,
and even got laughed out of Vienna.

But his life was the truest tragedy,
falling to death after a merry drink.
To this day, we can’t spell his name properly
because he would scribble whatever he thinks.

Do you know the man who I speak of?
Have a moment, this was a labour of love.

NaPoWriMo 2017 4/30 Elegy

Branded in my memory – those headlines.
“Everybody’s going to war”, she said
in big bold irrefutable lines 
caterwauling across the world: “you’re dead”.
I remember summer, so exciting
hanging together in our township, there
used to be laughter at sudden lightening
we were innocence at the village faire.
But despite the darkness that lingers here
you’re flickering in the deepest shadow
and where there is light, there is hope my dear
inspiring a better tomorrow.