Temerity prayer

May 4, 2016 at 9:35 am | Posted in Poem | Leave a comment
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Target audience.

God grant me

the serenity

to forgive people

I can change;

courage

to take out those

I cannot

and wisdom

to know the difference

at 1200 metres

in fading light

with a 10 km crosswind.

Brought to you by Imagine Day the book.

Bitter brew

March 28, 2016 at 10:53 am | Posted in Poem | 6 Comments
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We’re all out.

Glug, glug, glug, go the dregs

of my dad’s last

home brew.

Not down my throat,

but in the sink.

Testament to

30 years

of continuous

unimprovement.

It began as a fine recipe.

With fresh ingredients from a ‘way-out’ 70s

health-food shop

that smelt like nothing else (before or since).

But as people caught on,

prices went up.

So dad started shopping around.

First the hops.

Then the malt.

The sugar.

Yeast.

Bulk buying.

Damaged goods.

All ingredients meticulously re-sourced to shave costs.

The result?

A total price of just six cents a bottle.

Dad’s beer used to be so good, I’d take it to parties.

Fellow teens would gather to marvel at my cooler bag and try a sip.

But as time passed, the beer got leaner and meaner.

Bereft of zest and flavour.

Until I couldn’t drink it any more.

Yet my parents’ thrift paid their home off in just

nine years.

My shop beer costs $6.95 a bottle.

And after 17 years,

my home loan is bigger

than when I began.

Not so smart after all.

Pic by Kristopher Volkman.

Paedophile blues

January 29, 2016 at 10:44 am | Posted in Poem | 2 Comments
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Hey

there,

mis-

ter

scout-

mas-

ter;

sittin’

in

the

dock.

Bet

you

did-

n’t

bank

on

this,

when

you

grabbed

my

attention.

 

 

Anxiety

January 27, 2016 at 10:09 am | Posted in Poem | 2 Comments
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A crushing victory.

Got the irrits and the shits.

Can’t abide nongs or nitwits.

Think I’ll shake myself to bits.

Anxiety.

Put away the jolly pills.

Out of bed to pay the bills.

Hi! to Life! and all its ills.

Anxiety.

Kick away my trusty props.

Down the slip and brave the chops.

Time to see if this plan flops.

Anxiety.

Bell is ringing like a brain.

Fingers numb yet bruises pain.

Crazy not to be insane.

Anxiety.

Cue the voices in my head.

Self esteem for them to shred.

With no dogs I’d long be dead.

Anxiety.

Ditch the pies and hold the sauce.

Cut the crap and stay the course.

Cry and scream until you’re hoarse.

Anxiety.

Had two coffees and a tea.

Diet tonic; plenty wee.

Think this Coke is bad for me …

Anxiety.

Stick it in a bodgy poem.

Cast it as a bad genome.

Stuff the edit; almost home.

Anxiety.

Fret us not the broken egg.

Life’s a deal; we can’t renege.

Up and go: don’t make me beg.

Anxiety.

 

 

Bitter lemon

January 22, 2016 at 8:12 am | Posted in Poem | Leave a comment
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I asked the grocer

why he was selling just

USA

lemons.

He said the sun had

fried all the flowers in

Queensland.

A melancholy

Eureka.

 

Alcohold

December 15, 2015 at 8:05 am | Posted in Poem | Leave a comment
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Alcohol’s a millstone

That drags you to the deep.

It poisons all your daytimes,

And Alptraums your sleep.

It steals ‘fun’ from your future,

Yet when it comes it’s gone.

And if you ever get there,

You’ll find that there is none.

Today is what you make it:

Thy Heaven, Earth or Hell.

But if you try to fake it,

It’s the most broken spell.

 

 

Hoarse play

November 2, 2015 at 10:20 am | Posted in Poem | Leave a comment
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Let’s go bash

a horse about!

Dress up,

drink down

and bet

and shout.

And if

perchance

it falls down

dead,

forswear your heart

and lose your head.

Farther lee

September 6, 2015 at 11:37 am | Posted in Poem | Leave a comment
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3240819851_137a9468c8_b

Parentless husband.

And father to none.

No gift but the present.

The future undone.

Pic by H is for Home.

Save

Memento Maurie

May 26, 2015 at 6:04 pm | Posted in Poem | 7 Comments
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Undertaker

gifts me a

branded

pen.

Lest

I

forget?

To write

dead

letters?

Or just for

next time.

Bright eyed

May 14, 2015 at 9:40 am | Posted in Poem | 6 Comments
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IMG_1306

Greek neighbour phones re

my dead father’s lawn.

A deadly brown thing

manifested at dawn.

‘Maybe he possum …

or maybe he dog.

When you are come here

to take a the look?’

Rain on the freeway.

Pain in my head.

When will I run out

of things to be dead?!

Under the plum tree,

next to the tap.

Your finest form broken

by trauma and snap.

One bright eye skyward,

fresh blood at your nose.

Muscles and tendons

now framing your pose.

My hand in a bag

(might you have the mange?)

But as I approach,

a feeling so strange.

If I touch your paw,

will you leap up and sprint?

I gaze at your iris …

Was that just a glint?!

Could you surprise me

with vigour and bite?

I wait and I hope –

but you died in the night.

I wrap you and bin you

and roll you to kerb.

I’d rather be stroking

that tail so superb.

I go tell the neighbour

and drive home alone.

I wish you’d done 60

in that 50 zone.

Pic by Wildlife Spotter.

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