Saturday, 28 February 2015

From the deep pit

They have no names
Their flesh is putrid
Who knows what now flows though their veins

They circle round
With such ghost like moves
And drag around their heavy chains

They howl at us
Eyes now empty stare
Tangled hair from their foetid manes

What ghosts are these?
Granite looks spell fear
I think they've emerged from the drains

Such sinful deeds
That have been tabled
Emerge now to weigh upon their brains

Image found at


“Got to go” he said
Lisa thought that was so strange
To abandon her

“It must me his work”
She said walking to the bus
To take her back home

Once a week they met
Always in his hour’s lunchtime
From his job in town

They’d walk hand in hand
In the botanic garden
Near to the town centre

The shaded arbour
Where they kissed in secret
Their favourite place

In late afternoon
He gave her a call at home
She feared what he’d say

“Can we meet tonight?
We can go out for a meal”
Her heart now lifted

The table for two
Allowed him to hold her hands
And propose to her

So she knew at once
That he had little time midday
To arrange it all

Image found at

Wednesday, 25 February 2015

Mother tongue

It was fifty years ago
I left my place of birth
To furthest Australia I did go
It was best I thought for
They spoke the mother tongue
Up with which I had been brought
O then what a surprise
Hearing words, I was not wise

Friends were now in truth
“Cobbers” for they were your mates
“Bloody oath” in affirmation
or mild surprise may be “strewth”
When I was very busy
I’d be “flat out like a lizard drinking”
So don’t get in a “tizzie”
If that makes you upset

Its not only babies that drool
Who “spit the dummy” in Oz
But anybody that loses their cool
It is not always patriotic to see
Someone to give the “Aussie salute”
As they are brushing the flies away
You’re more likely to be “full”
When leaving a pub than a café

So it is part of my lingo now
So far from “Pommy land”
Driving along I might “Chuck a U-e”
When I’m going the wrong way
Tell the missus “to tart herself up”
She’ll smile, you’re taking her out
So will say “Ridgy didge” coz
She knows you’re a “Bonza” bloke

Expressions that may not be clear in the poem:

Full - drunk
Chuck a U-e – do a quick U turn or backtrack
Ridgy Didge – Genuine guy
Bonza - Brilliant

Image found at

Yes, the sixth line of the first verse is a dig at the rule of avoidance in (correct?) English of ending a sentence with a preposition.

The children were in bed

Rings under her eyes
Docile much like a rabbit
Fear her companion

Children were in bed
Long before he came home drunk
For his evening meal

He might be okay
Not inflict her with abuse
She could never tell

With some money left
He’d slowly eat in silence
He might not hit her

With empty pockets
She would be the one at fault
If she’d dared whimper

Nobody believed
Her excuse for the bruises
Even her children

They tried not to cry
Huddled together in bed
And kept dead quiet

Image found at

Tuesday, 24 February 2015

Imagine all those writers

I love being a writer                        
I can leave my mundane life
And leaping on my keyboard                    
Go seeking adventures abroad

I walk the streets in my mind         
Meeting those I would avoid
Even fighting on pirate ships       
Or kissing that sweet girls lips      

Nothing is out of reach for me                              
Flying high or crawling a cave
Riding the rapids on a log
Having adventures with a dog   

But most of all I like the times
When romance is my theme
I look into a cute girl’s eyes 
Which ends of course in lovers sighs

Image found at

Saturday, 21 February 2015

The Heron

Ours was but a hopeless affair
I had loved you so utterly
This was a foolish thing to do
The storm of our bitter parting
Has left me with no umbrella
Not the tiniest shred of hope
Before I had glowed so brightly
Now I was a deep shade of blue
I thought you were so delicate
Like petals of an uncut rose
Now still yearning, it is clearer                   
Life is a river flowing on                            
You were a heron perched waiting         
Until the right catch came along              
But now it is me on that post
Lesson learned; I'm free as a bird  

Image found

Beauty is in life

Sadness fills my heart
Cut flowers on display
As I tread the busy streets

Artificial Rose
Those dusty plastic flowers
I have seen enough

Give me my freedom
Walk though fields of lavender
and hear nature sing

Just where is your heart
To rip such children from home
The insects know you

The laugh is on you
Oh death just where is your sting?
You reap what you sow

Lilies on the pond
See eucalypts in flower
Bluebells in the wood

Beauty is in life
Not caged in a dusty house
Discarded at will

Images found at 1)

Friday, 20 February 2015

As I reminisce

I saw her standing there                
In the shopping centre
An old flame long extinguished   

I hesitated, then waved                  
She nodded in reply                                   
Our love affair was torrid               

She’s now lost in the crowd          
As I reminisce
I recall parting’s cruel pain            

But that was years ago                  
Yes, many tears ago
When sadly she saw the light      

Her long hair was so fair               
She was stronger than me
I even breathe in her scent           

I am an old man now                      
What strange sad dreams I dream 
Men are such foolish weaklings

Image of Rundle Mall, Adelaide found at

Wednesday, 18 February 2015

The perils of drink

So I let myself in
From a night at the inn
Content I laid my head down
On the mat by the door
The dog came to say hey
Sniffed, growled and slunk away

Then I heard a scream
That could be a dream
But next morn wife now shouted
“One day it would be good
to see you home sober for tea
I knew this would happen to me”

She had a problem to solve
Of how her brain could evolve
To make me fit for the family at three
They came right on time
My daughter Pam and children too
Young Jimmy and toddler Sue

The little one came, sat on my lap
Cuddled up and went for a nap
Which I thought was good idea too
When I woke up all was a blur
She’d woke first, my specs had took
And then pretended to read a book

Image found at

Monday, 16 February 2015

Dum cuts it (No. 29)

I stumbled across Dum the other day and he told me what had been going on his life. For previous episodes click on Cavemen in the labels bar.

Dum and Yum were now quite settled in the village life, hunting fishing and growing vegetables and harvesting wild fruit in season. Inside their hut they kept all they needed but everything was placed on the floor or hung from the walls of the hut.

When they ate they sat on the floor, when they slept they laid down on the floor and when the children played indoors when it was raining they played on the floor getting in everyone’s way. At last after a particularly wet period Yum could stand it no more and hit Dum on his arm and pointed to the mess everywhere inside their hut. She didn’t need to say anything; Dum knew exactly what the problem was as the children played a game of chasey around his legs.

He nodded his understanding to her and went outside in the pouring rain with his axe, knife and twine. Yum nodded for she knew he would solve the problem or if not there would be at least one less inside their hut. The children wanted to go with him but she shook her head so they ran round in circles again.

Meanwhile Dum strode off to the forest and the trees cover allowed him to rest in the shade and have a good think. Before long he had pieced together a few ideas but knew he would have to take them home to continue working on them.
The weather was starting to brighten up as he returned to the village with his pieces of wood and tools in his bag and ideas in his head.

He could now see the children of the village all playing together in the puddles and in the sunshine and Yum greeted him with a gentle caress to his face this time and looked at him with a smile. Then raised her eyebrows at the bits and pieces he had brought home. She was almost going to say it doesn’t matter any more but could see in the look on his face he had an idea.

For the whole afternoon he fiddled and cut, and shaped the wood pieces and the set about fixing them together with a bit of cutting here and whittling there until he had just about finished one piece. It was a three legged stool, not big enough for him or in fact for Yum but one the children could sit on. It was quite stable on three legs and he called out to Yum to come and see it.

Immediately she could see the possibilities and started chattering about making one for each of them…and one to put things up off the dirt floor.  Her mind was clicking over as she began to think of other things he could make for inside their hut. She even spread her arms wide to indicate a huge one so that nothing was on the floor at all. And why not boxes to put things in, big seats for the adults to sit on and even shelves on the walls.

Dum looked shocked, far from coming up with a simple answer to a simple request for a seat for the children on a rainy day he now had to make furniture for whole house.

                                       How I imagine Dum's stool looked

Image 1 found at
Image 2 found at

Sunday, 15 February 2015

Colour my life

I love the clouds                                                        
Playing with this my mind                                        
Matching my mood                                                  
Telling stories                                                           
That none can hear

They're busy today                                                           
And scud across the sky                                        
Others don’t look
Such busy bees                                                        
But I watch them

Dark, dismal clouds
Stratus squats over us
Long faces now
As rain drizzles
On umbrellas

All have coats on
Wispy cirrus so high above
Gloves and scarves
As people freeze
But I still smile

It’s evening
The mackerel sky woos us
Who knows what comes
All clouds thrill me
And colour my life

Image found at

Saturday, 14 February 2015

Memories of Jill

I remember Jill
She used to collect pebbles
On the beach near us

She lived close to me
We went to school together
Never held my hand

Called her my angel
That made her so very cross
She would wrestle me

I acted the fool
She was so good at science
Me? Empty headed

I lost track of her
Would like to take a crack at
Her saintly armour

I’ll see her again
Perhaps! But I’ve got to go
Bus is right on cue

Image found at

Why do I feel sad?

Why do I feel sad
They’re pulling the Folly down
Memories gone by

I was just a boy
It should have been our springtime
For Candy and me

That wasn’t her name
Asked if she was sweet on me
All those years ago

“You mean like candy?”
I nodded so we were friends
And played together

We walked in the woods
Then paddled in the river
She held my hot hand 

We found the Folly
A dark deserted building
Climbed in a window

Dead quiet until
The rooms echoed with laughter
As we ran about

I found the body
Poor Candy screamed with terror
Then we ran away

Our parents were cross
Never played with her again
She went far away

I so loved Candy
Wonder if she remembers
Holding my hot hand?

Image found at

Wednesday, 11 February 2015

Road Trip

Candy sighed deeply
He wasn’t the same anymore
Something wasn’t right

He was more offhand
And now this perpetual frown
Yet he wouldn’t talk

But now there was worse
All his words were venomous
They were meant to harm

Inwardly she cried
But still she showed the brave face
Frightened he’d hurt her

Could she get away?
But he was so controlling
She was his puppet

“My Mum is not well”
She said so deviously
“I’ll see her today”

A grunt his response
By noon she’d gone for ever
Leaving all behind

She’d phoned her cousin
The one in Tallahassee
They were always friends

Image found at

Lost Love

I dream of you
Of days long past
I’d touch your face
Your eyes downcast

I'd kissed your lips
You looked away
My heart was sad
I knew you’d stray

You said goodbye
I‘d not give up
There was for me
No loving cup

Years have passed
Times cruel wand
Your eyes I see
I’m no less fond

I know you’re there
But cannot see
Though loves sweet call
Still beckons me

image found at

Monday, 9 February 2015

You just don't get it

“I don’t think this is working”, she said staring him in the eyes              
Puzzled he recoiled from the blow that was not physical
It hurt and it was not even expected, where had he been?
She sighed and whispered softy, “I feel so sorry for you”                               

He tried to collect his thoughts, but they were so jumbled
She was ditching him! That was a first and it peeved him                  
He was hurt of course and now he wanted to hurt her                                   
She felt sorry for him! Who the hell did she think she was?              

For some reason he thought of his mother at breakfast
Serving up oatmeal on to his plate, just a lot of mush
Which was just how his brain felt at that very moment                        
Because of that he couldn't hear the words she then spoke

What was it again? Moving out; Gone by the weekend
She would pay the rent and then he would be on his own
“So you found another guy have you; thought as much” 
She shook her head sadly, "You just don't get it do you?"

Image found at

Sunday, 8 February 2015

Have you not heard?


Have you not heard?
Speaking with passion
She speaks for you
As well as her own
I was inspired
For in our world
She is but a child
An item of news

But in hers, hope
In the Swat valley
Their children’s choice
is “Cook, clean, serve”
What she wants is
“One child, one teacher”
“One book, one pen”
“Education first”

She said her father
“Did not clip my wings”
One day on a bus
A shot to her head
“I was stronger
than I was before
for fear and hope
and weakness died”

Are you not moved?
She said “Do not wait
for someone else”
“You must risk your life”
“Speak for yourselves”
and “Do not wait”
For she is Malala
Have you not heard?

N.B. Malala's own words in italics

Image found at

Saturday, 7 February 2015

A Drenching

Weather is changing
Another burst of thunder
Like a wounded beast

The fleecy grey clouds
Now fill the afternoon sky
Turning black with anger

Like a mime artist
Barometer glass has dropped
A clown’s long sad face

Thor in his heaven
Emits his sound of loathing
Instills fear in our hearts

Without protection
Rain tumbles down around us
Now sealing our fate

Image found at

Delight in your kiss

Desire’s first moment
Surprise at the feeling
Of joy when we met

The need to begin
Our urge for togetherness
Soft touch of your skin

My passion to win
Your desire for victory
Our scent of success

The spark of delight
The beauty in your dark eyes
Delight of your kiss
Then our first quarrel
Of reconciliation      
Such hugging of friends

To be not alone
Such a delight in our bond
Always together

Image found at www.for

Wednesday, 4 February 2015

Her bare arm

I ran my fingers
down her bare arm
she moaned and then
shivered with delight
looked me in the eyes
sadly shook her head

Oh, forbidden love
such excitement
one day soon perhaps
still she was doubtful
the seed in her mind
now struggling to grow

I will not push her
let her think anon
beautiful flower
surely will not wilt
she’s tempted I see 
that will do for now

Image found at

On that lonely beach

Ah! Another great day
I miss our walks on the beach
You, me, paddle, shells

Now and then I go
It’s not the same without you
But you are still there

You ran off somewhere
For years you refused to go
With the big cruel sea

Happy to be here
So you fought like a demon
Blood, sweat and needles

You left me alone
To watch the tides come and go 
On that lonely beach

Image found at

Tuesday, 3 February 2015

Climbing up the hill

The wind tangled her hair
She has not yet seen me
Still climbing up the hill

She skipped and danced around
Free just like a wild fawn
And just so beautiful

Yet soon she will be mine
Precious jewel among many
For I am so lucky

What does she see in me?
Do I make her feel safe?
Can I make her happy?

Is she singing up there?
Telling the world of our love
Yearning for me to come

She stops as she sees me
Then comes running to my arms
Hair streaming behind her

Image found at

Sunday, 1 February 2015

My worn old hands

Now I look at my worn old hands
I wonder at time’s moving sands
Marvel at all they and I have done 
With such countless rounds of the sun      
I sought comfort at my mother’s breast
Pointing to what I wanted best
Then touching my fathers nose
Or pushing away a medicine dose
My childish digging the beaches sand   
Splashing in the sea hand in hand        
Patting and stroking the family dog 
Or catching a bewildered frog        
Sneaking a touch of my classmate’s curls
Forgetting I didn’t like such girls
Then later after holding one tight
Started thinking of our wedding night
Touch is such an important gift
The heart then soars with such a lift
These hands drew and wrote so many words
Setting my mind free to fly as the birds
They wrote of adventure and of fable
Of love and honesty as I was able
I wonder at time’s moving sands
As I look at my worn old hands

Image found at