there's that carnal place
where deep blue Tasman
meets sensual Coral Sea
it's spiritually beautiful
a South Sea space
trace a graceful line
from north to south
surfing high rollers
riding cresting waves
sometimes a fine easterly
there are blustery southern times
when it's all raging
there's that strange coastal place
where darling calm meets frightful rage
its sheer trade existence
clearly fronts with a different face
this current oceanic stage
where contrite loses faith
if we don't sink and drown
tumble fathoms in divine wrath
if great sharks don't eat us
humbly we might somehow float
beware crocodile treatment
vicious in God's salty bath
perhaps some cagey cyclone
will just blow pacific away
maybe some Southern Cross angel
love with its astral crux be enough
astronomically helping us
ferry some to virtual safety
dwell safely together
huts on another southern shore
fishing and saving our pickled souls
let us respectably breathe
let us be free to live more
those tricky dreams
what slick may come
those dives and strokes
an ocean of things taking us
down another barmy road
crossing comic and dramatic seas
where traumatic coral reefs
recite and speak in artful tongues
deep surf bound by fragile breakers
crashing over truthful confessions
washed wisdom leaving
disbelieving us seekers
unhanded and abandoned
shipwrecked and stranded
lost on a subtropical beach
paradise where the reckless ocean
reveals speckless pearls
conditions encapsulated
treasure in motherly shells
nestled under a buccaneer's mother lode
beneath emotional tidal commotion
all this great in and out
rational love and peace
trapped and buried
a semblance of pirate booty
assemblance under heavy wet sand
maybe we should hesitate
cap angry words
emotions we want to scrap and hate
instead set sail
a perfect mind and wind
navigating current
trace twinkling stars
far out on the crested sea
pray the view is less relentless
though still remaining eternal water
nothing to go insane about
but what if Venus and Mars
rendered their own
southern and northern seas
all these words would just be flattery
but with ships and planes and cars
we can't surrender
even with less nattering
we just can't set sail as we please
skillfully we need to dream
far beyond a trillion stars
still we need ground to live
always soundly buffeted
moving with a righteous wind
starboard to sultry Venus
still left of warrior Mars

                * * *

 

selfish me
with my selfish thoughts
why should I care
dare even to ponder
or wonder
these poems
I write
in my selfishness
those thoughts and words
trying to fix myself
poems that are not selflessness
if only in preponderance
perhaps at times
time bombs and lethal swords
I've written hordes
trying to see myself
for what I truly am
all my poetry and words
crossing a great gulf
between dreams and reality
perhaps I'm just off the shelf
common as a commoner
predominantly I am shy
just a silly poet and garden guy
please don't bully me
I have my bleeding wounds
bloody terrible scars
in my caring head
I dare to know
I'm not yet dead
so where and what
the sun still shines
the moon still shines sublime
a reflective invitation
my secret inspiration
for kindled poetry I write
something almost real
burning words and lines
no big learning or yearning deal
just some of what I need and feel

                     * * *

 

your perfect shadow
falls around me
ending each quiet day
twilight silently arrives
ending daylight's eager parade
you followed me
down each narrow corridor
along every twisting path
where sombre love
in time falls and fails
to lie quiet and undisturbed
but each new day arrives
I feel you still clinging
hanging in my thoughts
remarkably changing my words
I wish I could truly see through you
know what each new day
just might be bringing
but you are gone
I cannot lie
loving you felt so right
love seldom left us feeling
we were wrong
I wish I could see you
beyond this apparition
an image of you
stuck in my mind
let me hold you
snuggle in my arms
dance together closely                                                                                                                         search your deep sparkling eyes
but then I fall deeply asleep
my grieving heart dreams
poems and stories about caring
you know precious
that love we shared
dear sweet love
you are delicious
I want to keep you
when I am truly deaf
when I am ailing
having gone completely blind
when my moaning heart is failing
precious love
perhaps you will be kind
our rich love will still
be on my sorry mind

                * * *

 

yellow rain
sky pudding
mixed with more and more insane
high wind so shear
creating fearful rivers of pain
such perpetual flooding
overflowing blocked and desperate drains
inundating dangerous ditches
overbearing both far and near
all this righteous bluster
making us flustered and crazy
purple rain falling
so blindingly clear
now nature is mistrusted
while tomorrow seems so hazy
earth spirits are calling
wrestling with our crazy dreams
these nightmares full of fear
each red careless rain
every stream of terror and torment
so many cyclones it seems
ever present low pressure storms
raging after each high pressure rain
never a blessed mourning drink
always strong poison
at its best
so it longingly seems
our horrific dreams
along with such
disparaging refrains
breaking our will and hearts
falling again and again
we stick the knife in
to see what comes out
just like all that
yellow and purple
every red drop of rain
what is it all about
how crazy and insane
then we find out
we can fly
those things
we do
those things
we try
we ask
how far and how high
then soon enough
trying time delivers
another rainbow sky
feasting upon some colourful dessert
until pressure once again divides us
signaling another red alert
then refined God inside us
signals divine certainty
encouraged by blessed death
followed by courageous rebirth
succeeded by deep breath

                    * * *

 

those reckless haves
those feckless have-nots
stark clouds without rain
marked by subject for our perusal
on the other objective hand
all our prideful gain
speaking about atmospheric approval
so many empty spheres and bare shelves
heretics and political removal
society's emetic disapproval
down at the reflective seashore
defective waves roll in
washing over receptive hands
like trackless homelessness
so many lost and forgotten
macroscopic grains of sand
over time so much more
scrutinized under vain microscopes
this disingenuous rutting season
mountainous storms we find ourselves in
just how much mucked up grit
can a fucked up world withstand
gritty narrow strips and gutless alleys
so very few infected places
not hardened by seriousness
shredded by invisible glass shards
glitter in deep divisional ruts
mismatched paths and defective aisles
all these unpardonable trials
gardens full of hidden landmines
littering every person's street and distant land
those rotten indiscrete peaches
lying bitter in the blazing sun
how far can tricksters
ever lend a helpful hand
does compassion even truly reach us
so called love somehow truly teach us
surrounded by so much haste
so much being such a pitiful waste
those good things we've lost
our angry human palette
this fiery joyless hunger
still those colourful things we've won
painted by a bristle brush
confusion relatively obtuse
obstruction with a flush of talent
often at such a horrible cost
even when we finally realize
just what and all we've done
ripping the sky and life to the very core
should we still duly serialize
history with its deranged stories
what more can we try to do
gripped by cruel reality
all those haves and have-nots
most scorched if not tortured
life administered with gore and terror
rife admonishment with a brutal sum
it seems there are some of us
both haves and have-nots
that find no critical error
ignoring all the vanity and pain
still knowing exactly what they've done

                       * * *

 

people's clutter
we have too much
blow it up
burn it down
we still have too much
all this plastic and such
what a befuddled world
where we live
box it up
blow it down
it seems the world is rich
still a muddled question
is it witchcraft
or just a baloney sandwich
filling our growling bellies
other rich mindless foods
not just peanut butter and jelly
and half baked ideas
bitching to satisfy our hungry spawn
something to feed our needs
something to senselessly graze on
if God could see us now
tell us what we should
sensibly do
either right and wrong
would we be understood
I wonder what God would say
if God could feed us now
relieve us of our manic clutter
all that cosmic power
drag us from this desperate gutter
turn manna into herbs and hay

                   * * * 

 

what joy
such sorrow
this roller
coaster
we all
ride
most situations
we must
master
sometimes
too fast
for all
of us
these lasting
earthquakes
every viral
virus
so the monsters
rule
beginning
to end
bent somewhere
near every
middle
what is
then
what isn't
so easy
to stumble
so we fall
it's hard
getting too
every capable
truthful top
we live
our lives
sweet alpha
beyond
bitter omega
but in
each humble
fitful end
everything turns
to ash
then dust
so when
this sun
goes nova
all those
rival planets
past simmering mercury
shimmering venus
tribal earth
and grim red mars
consumed
by celestial
fire
such indifferent
transition
where vagrant
beginning
to flagrant end
revisions
into nightmares
collisions
into night terrors
those origins
which God
sends
in creative
darkness
out of
blinding light
so with each
contemplative
beginning
let there
be
a spark
of right
still unknowingly
hark that
mystic sight
fire doesn't
burn itself
water doesn't
know
its flowing
still nothing
deeply wrong
if humans
reaped
all knowing
we'd see
everything
God's
almighty might
with contrite
existence
envisioning
joy
seeing
perfect light

       * * *

all this sacrifice
making us bleed
one would think
just breathing
would suffice
but I still need
more than food and drink
I watched you leaving
I knew faith and creed
could never hold
would never stand
this hurtful hurricane
you blessed us with
this blessed mess
I must confess
this destructive filth
is worse than death
so many hearts are broken
by harsh words
everyone has spoken
so many lives
have no wealth
not even love
no joyful tokens
only sparks and fire
bombs and craters
so we never fly higher
even when we think
we have finally woken
that loveless trench we've dug
is void of food and drink
all those flowers
we've plucked and killed
all those dreams
we've left unfulfilled
when we find ourselves
leaving for a tragic front
when we see ourselves
not living out our magic dreams
it seems this caustic world is ending
without you and our drastic love
maybe it's all depending
on what we truly rend
so maybe love's due sacrifice
will let us sincerely find
that merely breath
will suffice

               * * *

 

God is coming
to sweep you away
with all the rancid filth
all that toxic ash
you have
indiscriminately polluted
innocent mother earth with
your sinful evil ways
shall torment you
into horrid depths of hell
imprison your wretched soul
cause desolate madness
your resolute death
becomes a welcome thing
your pitiful life
encompassing
your twisted mind
such fiery destruction
your demon heart
making everyone hate
everything despise you
you know who you are
despot full of greed
forever seeking
despot wealth and power
corrupt tyrant
full of prideful self
your demented
cruel thoughts
ruling your perverted brain
torture and murder delight you
somehow you think
you're better than everyone
within your dreams
your nightmares
cry out all the same
you're a fruitless void
even something less
without compassion
devouring mother's tit
you are less than grace
charity and mercy make you sick
each delightful breakfast
you consume demon shit
for lunch as well as supper
you and your horrid evil bunch
God is coming for you
drag you to the pit of hell
God is coming for you
all the world will hear
as you writhe
punished by your screams
convicted with torturous pain
rated on historic level
you're beyond disdainful
wickedly loving evil
all your rot and dread
what lies you tell
rank cruel felons
they also stank
before they drank
their final cup of poison
before they finally fell

                 * * *

 

all the king's horses
all the king's men
armoured and fresh
crowns full of jewels
all that regal horse flesh
spit and polish horse guards
gleaming golden crests
so a new age coronation
gathering blood relations
a few broken shards
hail a new king
something over
many nations
hail monarchs too
those polished horse guards
tempered pomp and steel
flying flags with embroidered crests
a show of pompous crowns
bestowed with such haughty sparkle
all that monarchy feels
but truly a tempest rules
all that tempered pomp and steel
is a game of kings and fools

                   * * *

 

I found myself today
searching first
for myself
a soul seeking thirst
just wondering
where ever
could I be
second after fleeting second
I looked
in neat and tidy cupboards
stuck my head in
between ghostly painted walls
journeyed up decadent stairs
then falling down again
I searched around
every ghastly corner
in every dark attic
every dank basement
I searched each legal easement
dug beneath deceit and deception
perused every political appeasement
rummaged through depressions
those harried and hurried places
where romance had been buried
wondering about spirit and inception
pondering just where
I'd gotten to
just where
I might have gone
where
I might have been
beyond a wretched helm
far past
the blinking stars
seemingly gone
from every realm
in the morning hours
I looked in every tangled corner
enduring hot afternoon
I wandered down every stuffy corridor
in the blessed cool evening
I traveled to the ends of every storm
touching every remnant rainbow
assembling tone and pigment
but still
I couldn't find myself
I wasn't at the bottom of any well
or beneath any pot of glitter or gold
I wasn't twenty thousand leagues
beneath any ancient sea
I wasn't at the apex of any noble mountain
I wasn't even in my own missing skin
finally when the vocal moon came out
that regal brooding swelling man
with his yokel swoon
told me where to look
not in any story or book
not under any stone or rock
not in any house or home
not above or below the earth
not within a cave or tomb or tone
of any singing ringing bell
don't bother searching
any placid canal or watery lock
not in any poem or song
he told me I wasn't there
I was not even
a single word or letter
not a beginning
or an end
just a being
a spark of instant thought
that wise old crisscrossed man
told me star-crossed things
reminding me living
may not get better
maybe even worse
more difficult and terse
maybe another drastic flood
maybe another choking fire
maybe I'll wake up someday
in some wretched monk attire
there could be earthquakes and hurricanes
those green cheese words
I didn't feel inspired
I couldn't see past my trying nose
but somewhere in between
I swallowed hard
knowing that's how it goes
realizing that bit
of lubricating spit
would make me play
some other joking card
hoping to win the final pot
maybe make my day
where I might finally be
in some magic life
or blessed
even sacred spot
hoping I'd somehow swing
from jungle vine
to cosmic vine
finally in the setting sun
landing in a vacant lot
and there
on some overgrown ground
I spied a small hole
atop a weaving grassy knoll
to my astonishment
there I was
my very soul and being
speaking out of a minute vent
the raving night before
and in the ranting dark
I didn't realize or know
searching for some illuminating goal
would land me
like some sprouting seed or nut
in some surreal
vole and squirrel park
surrounded by hungry ferrets and weasels
midst lurking things and creatures
slinking nearby and far below
all those hunting
day hawks and night owls
teaching me stupidity and courage
encouragement enough
to launch myself
from here to there
attempts to find myself
from hole to hole
just trying to survive
I find myself vying
this earnestly I vow
in my yearning vole
and gathering squirrel life
I'm just trying to somehow
live in peace and simply stay alive

                     * * *

 

my two cents worth
what it sounds like
deep in outer space
sort of like
vibe of the creative womb
life fitting beings
our inner human race
wanting to flower and bloom
gardens with a happy face
that's my two cents worth
what it sounds like
inside my head
deep in inner thought
sometimes there are waves
instead of chaos
sounding like hell
in my head
argumentative waves
surfing through outer space
some rhythm only God can feel
that's my two cents worth
another mysterious soulful place
where we rise up
out of deep dark graves
resurrection without disgrace
making rapturous sounds
inside my head
something I truly feel
just watch
my body language
we don't need words
no aural communication
performing pantomime licks
exploring moral relation
sounds like a leap through space
discovering deep values
befitting galactic equations
fitting words we hear
alphabetic fractions
two cents worth of true relations

                    * * *

 

shimmering spring
through our winter grief
mirroring autumn's passion
far beyond our disbelief
what reflective dreams will bring
time is such a rational thief
trapped by physical stealth
wrapped in stealthy fashion
what washed up
on the eastern shore
rationalizing troubled wealth
of these western nations
so the cards are played
both poverty and health
every war deck is stacked
what about each southern station
where more distance is
corporeal and such a greedy beast
while altruistic space
trembles as it is fracked
all those trackless politics
tactful yet appalling
bits of northern pieces
falling from impacted sky
we're blinded by a glimmering
no matter how hard we try
to blend and bind
simmering stew and horse hoof glue
all four seasons
tattered for no reason
battered just because
not how or even why
that offensive meat grinder
across the defensive sea
what we fail to grind
or shortsightedly boil
we seem to toil
trying to clearly see
those bastard doctrines and chemicals
we masterfully eat and breathe
our genetic paranoia
confused by a generic sun
what a strained mix
five fingers pulling triggers
both hands and feet in some tragic fix
digging graves in bomb shell gardens
entrenched in bloody smelly trenches
deep in that vengeful sleep
just broken rocks and shattered sticks
is it static bread or fatal breadth
propaganda the fixed world is grossly fed
hurriedly burying nationalities
gloss over the amplitude of cost
slaughtering screaming countries
so much is screech and dread
when peace and truth
lay truly dead

                   * * *

 

amongst this chaos
midst this destruction
mired we reside
confiding in erudition
starving for truth
our myopic self in view
chewing up short sighted moments
relating illusion to events
together spectres and spheres turn
sense and sensibility
phylum and kingdom
everything generic
genetics in its place
so we hurtle encapsulated
turtles within a shell
guilty and haphazard
we journey through time and space
remember those ancient lizards
entrepreneurs in jungle light
into mammoth ice age darkness
then once again
this caveman race
without our prehistoric gizzards
pitching through fragmented night
fissured we still stream
dream a moist address
water then once again
droplets into evolutionary space
reflecting God's eternal face
tripping through this spatial chaos
cogitating course destruction
caves are a place to hide
residing with divine wisdom
but life is such an urgent ride
always wanting a festive table
confiding in the sacred side
of despot Cain and victim Abel

                       * * *