Poem for Mental Health Week

Inspired by Mental Health Week that is sweeping across Australia.

Empty

like a glass of wine

on a Friday night

spinning happily

wonderland

spices and chilli

stings shivering nerves

casacade of goosebumps

the real world screams

from all directions

piano keys at her temples

bass at her heart

eyes like lead

oh, a paper-weight of a head

Downton’s Daisy, is

devilishly clever

a marionette under the wrong master

she doesn’t know what to do

society says she will not do

in her family tree of servitude.

That story stops there

hack and halve and hack again

dreams submerge reality

or is the other way around?

She is tired.

She is empty.

She breaks her down

to build her up.

She is the builder.

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Through the eyes of a koala…

I have the mind of a fox

the meaning of life is in eucalypts

I chomp along the unknown path

clutching to the pillars of history

originally from the east coast

I’m not a bear, you know.

Sharp minds need lots of sleep

the meaning of life is in sleeping

it is the beginning – koalapocalpyse!

the sounds of chainsaws ring

rippling like stones thrown on a lake

the saddest song for lots of species

fill the tall tree’s of character

warning – the humans are coming!

Can we put them on exhibition?

Oh, I dream of eternal eucalypts

cascading over our country

I think I’ll go to sleep now…

St. Kilda Pier

IMG_7177

Pausing above the breakwater

on the edge of St. Kilda Pier

capture a father and daughter

tangled in photography gear.

Her pink scarf dances in the breeze

as her world falls behind the trees.

In the shadows with bells and chimes

she stops being guarded by time.

Enchanted by the soft whistles

emerging from the creaking boats.

Posts, etched in sailors initials

tells the stories of life afloat.

Raptures of little blue penguins

Modeling for their human friends

nestle themselves in the deep rocks

quiet and safe along the docks.

OneDayOneWorld – Hour Two – 1pm

Written for the 1 Day 1 World Project – one hour a week around the world.

Photo taken just after 1pm at Half Moon Bay, Victoria, Australia.

Sunday 1pm


Out on the road for Mum’s Day

drawn to a beach symphony

of seagulls across the bay

trying to catch the imagery.

An animation of friends

singing in wondrous chorus

to the town around the bend

their melody was flawless.

#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.