The Blooms of Two Poems

The Birth of Tomorrow

Above
 epileptic blue

The mouth of the sky
                             opens
                 Out to a flow of white clouds
drifting
       our mind
              dreams
                         the pregnancy of a new day
 falling
            like a soft rain
we hold on
      to the embryo
                of  tomorrow
                                     with new hope

.............................................................................................
A Lemon Scented Night


A lemon scented night
for a quarter of a moon
priceless treasures
my first perfume
kindles within memories
of
sun bleached and tangled
hair
peeling nose burning bright
like a rudolph light
Christmas trees and houses
all alight like a bonfire
electricity and excitement
the crackling of the air

Seaweed green and slimy beards
hanging off our chins
like a volcanic eruption
laughter flowed
like lava
from deep down
in our bellies
Our legs would feel like jelly

Sand warm and soft
between the toes
castles buckets spades and motes

walks along cliff tops
singing songs
talking to yourself
to a friend
imaginary
or reel riel real
       or not
Our child hood became
           part of the scenery
we were
oblivious to the world

blackberries cooking in a pot of sun
we would all squeal Yum!
with mouths pouting
purple bruising pose
stuff our bellies
and head for home

on the way
looking for shells
we knew which ones were best
we could just tell
cuttle fish for blue
still learning to say
I love you ~ I love you

Long white sheets
who's a scary ghost
riding push bikes
really really fast
climbing up the gum trees
smoking cigarettes
hanging upside down
so the world
looked like one big frown
iced buns
and mums call
don't fall
riding He's a Giant
Ten Hands
Stallion Tall
bareback
no fear at all
and
a lemon scented night

.................................................................................................................

I Am

Im small when im with you
so tall when alone
Im shy when im with you
a force to be reckoned with
alone
In crowds I have wings
I am social
a butterfly
who is
resting
like the branch of a tree
I am generous
in my give
and take
between
I can ease the separation
of the punch
line up
for all your calls
a meaning
that does not make you
feel
small
so
please
be
kind
in
your
blind
efforts
to
act
respect
if
you
haven't
got
the
effort
dont
pretend
effortlessly
the practice
of philosophy
because
I
am more
and less
than
any words you
use
To compare
my words
with
I
am

The Snow Job

The blazing sun
startles the land
like a loaded gun
but not even in such glare
could you see past the surface
to the depths
of this tragic despair

This land that had once been alive
now bares the ivory white teeth of gums
like a rape
its blood clotted dry
These old ghosts
line up under the hot sun
like witness
to the nakedness
of the snow job
cruel hands in white gloves

The cold winds at night
howl the terrifying sounds
of stolen generations
Their souls stud a sea of unknown darkness
waiting like an outcast
in this rain of stripped color and skin
animals find there grief filled hunger
fed like a cover job
to the rusted sands

If you stop to listen
sound has no echo here
all that was
and ever is
and will be
has been suspended
in mid air
imagine then if you will
the mother and the child
being torn apart
In the middle of nowhere
where fishermen
use lines of lies to hook
and steal
from the deep
the dreaming time

Three short poems ... I ~ Am ~ Me

Poem 1. I
When you couldn't be the one I adored
                 I became that lie
   I grew my mask
Crawled into your illusion
     Naked
my social wings
            already explored and torn

.............................................................................................................................................................
Poem 2. Am

always a little late
even on the turn
their is nothing right
or wrong
or more
my naked illusions have been shattered
Im just a reflection passing by

..................................................................................................................................................................
Poem 3. Me

I am just a breath away
I look at you
my affection disappears
your memory next to me
I keep it close enough
don't I
This memory of me

I am just a breath away
I remember eyes wide open
You watching me watching you
your memory next to me

Yet I cant remember this me
I see a me of reflections
in every mirror I see
parts of me
reflected yet
I don't recognize this me

I am just a breath away from me
                                             Yet
I don't recognize
who
is
this
me

Are These Words Really Mine

dumps
rubbish
bin
it
lid
off
obnoxious
knocked
out
in
corners
FLASH
eyes
spying
on
the
off
moment
in
 time
give me words
that are mine
are these above me
or beneath
I ask you
can you tell me
what it all means
freedom
is that writing
what you want
speaking your mind
choosing your religion
or not
writing a song
could that be freedom
love
never enough
too much
too little '
not enough to go round
tell me can you
is there anything
hear that you see
that is free
here
in
my
words
that
you
read
are they just words
are they really mine
have you wrote
anything here
that may be considered yours
is that what freedom is
that the is 's and the the the's
the and's be you what that he me she see blue color so on's
are for the picking
cotton on
like
finders
keepers
loosers
weepers
just
surviving
just
writing
freedom
are
these
words
really
mine