Monday, February 28, 2005
A Poem For A Monday
It's hard to be an insomniac without quality late night tv and
when you run out of internet hours.
I've read all my books already and
counted the stripes on the blinds.
It's one hundred and fifty-six if you're interested.
Anthony Robbins, Marie Winsor and Gunnar Peterson have helped millions -
but they can't help me.
They say there's no rest for the wicked.
Perhaps I should be listening to Benny Hinn, Kenneth Copeland and Joyce Meyer
Can redemption bring my sleep salvation?
when you run out of internet hours.
I've read all my books already and
counted the stripes on the blinds.
It's one hundred and fifty-six if you're interested.
Anthony Robbins, Marie Winsor and Gunnar Peterson have helped millions -
but they can't help me.
They say there's no rest for the wicked.
Perhaps I should be listening to Benny Hinn, Kenneth Copeland and Joyce Meyer
Can redemption bring my sleep salvation?
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Inconstancy
You scratched on my door,
but you weren't the Big Bad Wolf.
Or were you?
A wolf in high fashion street wear.
Your bowling shoes were shiny,
but your game was less than perfect.
Your words were crazy talk -
tall tales not true.
You said pamper me
nurture me
feed me
punish me.
You said it's your job.
I wondered how could that be so
after all,
you fired me.
Didn't you?
but you weren't the Big Bad Wolf.
Or were you?
A wolf in high fashion street wear.
Your bowling shoes were shiny,
but your game was less than perfect.
Your words were crazy talk -
tall tales not true.
You said pamper me
nurture me
feed me
punish me.
You said it's your job.
I wondered how could that be so
after all,
you fired me.
Didn't you?
Friday, February 18, 2005
A Poem for Friday
Subscriptions & prescriptions
Prescribed nonsense
Nonsensical comings & goings
Gone & very much forgotten
In my head I hear you whisper
Perhaps this is the right road to Nowhere
Where is my ultimate destination?
Destiny be damned
Prescribed nonsense
Nonsensical comings & goings
Gone & very much forgotten
In my head I hear you whisper
Perhaps this is the right road to Nowhere
Where is my ultimate destination?
Destiny be damned
Thursday, February 17, 2005
About a boy
Last night still lingers in his room
Sweet vanilla masks intoxication, anticipation, bliss and regret
The Sun's shine doesn't bring illumination
Only confusion and burnt bacon
Why do I always get stuck with the dishes?
Eating reconditioned Thai food
I wonder if I really am not the girl I was
Have I become what I once detested?
To be pitied and scorned
Is that the girl I now am?
Sweet vanilla masks intoxication, anticipation, bliss and regret
The Sun's shine doesn't bring illumination
Only confusion and burnt bacon
Why do I always get stuck with the dishes?
Eating reconditioned Thai food
I wonder if I really am not the girl I was
Have I become what I once detested?
To be pitied and scorned
Is that the girl I now am?
Monday, February 14, 2005
A poem for St Valentines Day
It was the kind of love that woke me up
at four a.m. in melbourne in a bed
where oceans rushed around inside my head
and fizzed like yellow bubbles in a cup.
Across the highway, morning called 'wassup?'
in freshly tagged graffiti on a shed
where concrete walls were glistening in lead
and telling old wise men to hurry up.
The words flew past like flies on violet light
and once we hit geelong the day was cool
but summer called us back into the night
while shoolkids caught their buses home from school.
We lingered, near the river, dressed in blue.
And though the face was old the smile was new.
at four a.m. in melbourne in a bed
where oceans rushed around inside my head
and fizzed like yellow bubbles in a cup.
Across the highway, morning called 'wassup?'
in freshly tagged graffiti on a shed
where concrete walls were glistening in lead
and telling old wise men to hurry up.
The words flew past like flies on violet light
and once we hit geelong the day was cool
but summer called us back into the night
while shoolkids caught their buses home from school.
We lingered, near the river, dressed in blue.
And though the face was old the smile was new.
Monday, February 07, 2005
A poem for a monday
Is it wrong that
Bach is followed
by the Backstreet Boys
in my iTunes?
And in history
for that matter?
All of your time spent
keeps us alive.
And if Bach was born
in '83
would that make him
larger than life?
Bach is followed
by the Backstreet Boys
in my iTunes?
And in history
for that matter?
All of your time spent
keeps us alive.
And if Bach was born
in '83
would that make him
larger than life?
Sunday, February 06, 2005
A Poem for a Saturday
The sea being an
eternal reminder
of our mortality carried
me over the threshold
the threshold being the
lowest form of barrier
between sadness
and drabnness
and freedom being the
most stunning form
of adversity
and free verse being the
lowest form of expression
and a night in a hotel being
more than a lifetime
under the sea.
I don't miss that big eyebrow-ed
childhood because
i am now
its dreams
dreams being endings
and the sea being
my beginning
and all of us being the
washing machine.
eternal reminder
of our mortality carried
me over the threshold
the threshold being the
lowest form of barrier
between sadness
and drabnness
and freedom being the
most stunning form
of adversity
and free verse being the
lowest form of expression
and a night in a hotel being
more than a lifetime
under the sea.
I don't miss that big eyebrow-ed
childhood because
i am now
its dreams
dreams being endings
and the sea being
my beginning
and all of us being the
washing machine.
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
A poem for a Tuesday
Two many boys
2 Men
made me feel fine
at Wine Time.
London eyes
Berlin walls
Corio keys
Barwon boys
so take your pick:
wives or mothers?
they're all the same
and I could really use
a new wife-in-law
to have coffee with
and to help me choose
my first wedding dress
2 Men
made me feel fine
at Wine Time.
London eyes
Berlin walls
Corio keys
Barwon boys
so take your pick:
wives or mothers?
they're all the same
and I could really use
a new wife-in-law
to have coffee with
and to help me choose
my first wedding dress
