I beseech the sun to undress the stars...
Orphan feral cat wild wanders nix the blades of high grass
Wild feral tortured by the sour taste of touch bars
Camelot fluffy wild calico cat grasps
So, wake within the urban rose wilderness
Distraught unhinged unsorted missingness
So, such distorted envisioned and homeless
Meow Roar Feral
If I am your refrain, let me embrace burn...
Meow! More like a roar, razor claws
Lonely cat hunted, by humane laws
From the slicing/cutting of my flesh feral turns
Frighten, hungry or aroused cat’s wild hounds
Laden dormant on the early autumn grounds
Until a dog catcher Captured, collared and cage
Meow Roar Wild Feral
T’is the July cold
Carried into August
A hot cup of tea’s sold
For salvation promised
Shivers down the spine
Hairs on forearms stand
To be sheltered just fine
Mark of a strong brand
I sway in the wind
Puckered skin
Collared coat pinned
Against cold to win
Alcedinidae
loves calm ponds and small rivers
brightly colored bird
pretty plumage sturdy bill
rufous-collared kingfisher
Here's to Biff 'o who a hero can be.' By determination, and effort and observance
If youse'll just see.' Not from a plush life start." Yet now is his time, he will lose nothing, as he gives all Aussies his frames
Online.' From reporting true on Dezi, some
Sold out media types crimes, used his own
material, and tried relegating him onto a
shelf.'
I saw how he's enqired with vic-poll-lice.. That dreaded crew.' And even falsies like that
Mob, said nothing was to do, fast forward
To today..And New South cops started sniffing around, only went and collared his
Son, mates this is stupidity profound.' Just
Bullying monstering tactics, for their head bosses overseas, who tell the local leaders
That the beat guys have to please.' So though there is breach of good conduct and threats of some jail-time for a kid who
Has done no-thing at all.' This really blows
My mind.' These are traitors to our heros.'
I stand with Biff; and say deliver them some consequence, that our country holds
Its way.' In the good that we relied upon..
That always had ous backs.' Give it
To them brother it can be part of taking our
Country back; on track.''
Motion-activated caught on camera
while cookies for the kids I was cooking
a collared cat crept into the kitchen
when I stepped outside and wasn't looking
his potty break was well-timed
as, sadly, I'd left the door unlocked
onto the counter by the sink he climbed
bared his butt and crapped in the crock
tho' he gave new meaning
to vanilla chocolate chip
if I ever collar him doing it again
his mangy tail end I'll severely whip
as, if he wants nine lives to live
he'd really best think twice
or he'll sleep with the fishes
(not eat them)
as such behaviour is just not nice
Heartthrob in damsel drag
Belief of human bile
Completely instilling cascading dregs of mechanical flesh, bones and spit
64th avenue
And coiling deft doom
Winged balls of bulging blood and speckled steel
Merry wails and flutters of moths unsealed
Fitted upon falling kneel
And reckoned release of rotten roadkill-
Rats and babes and brats
Congealed candy and sickeningly sweet brandy
And hailed light of epiphany to choke, swallow and spit
And strangle without a hand nor handle but grit
Of groil and crevices of menaces heralding honed notes
And a lone liver in fathered infirmary
Black backed in breachers
Potted a bulge to indulge the fickle maggots of dissociation
Emulsification and hearty sniff of
Whitened slice and slithers of snow
Dregs to drag and hone and throw
Up upon bedded saline laden road
Of rows and rows and pounds
That drag rotten flesh afresh from the hound
Sutured from spine to fluttered wing
The hide
Plucked apart from rat to brat
And collared collier stepped afresh with new hide and throw
And stubborn stubbled child with a new mind in tow
5//5//2025
I harken to the early signs of spring
the slow unfurling of leaves and buds
the birds starting to build their nests
and the soft cooing of collared doves.
Spring is the most exciting time of all
so many things come back to life
gone are the dreary days of winter
the biting cold, snow and freezing winds.
Its beautiful to see the different shades
of colour, the vibrant greens of many hues
soon other colours will come alive, yellow,
purple, hot reds, blue and orange flowers
Coating the world with a blaze of colour
making hearts sing with delight
ah, Spring I so much enjoy you
such great hope you bring each day.
Where liveth preen for empathy
Drew ragged,
Poor sawbones perscribed
"where in pain warrants lithe deformities"
Swimming,
Loathed from the east
Collared,
Hung dry,
Pruned by the sweat of a racing night
When in dawn's bleached seamstress
Sought a grim vow
Erelong in catapult
Where'n torrents clothed spare
Credences in cold eyes of maggots
A cruel indifference,
In polar tear.
Late November and spring rain falls the glen,
dry nor-westers shed pine needle and cone -
and “koork kok” crows the cock pheasant and hen
who outside my window have always flown.
In the thickets and hanging gardens from
calls my ring-necked friend, my avian muse
who, silenced by the Iroquois’s loud thrum,
shines in the dappled sun its copper hues.
Behold his red faced wattle in the grass,
a white collared chromatic blue-green head
and long tail feathers that before me pass
as to the heavens his princely wings spread.
For in these hills in wild and wondrous sound
echo game fowl and the choppers inbound.
Written: November 1994
He reminds me back when I was thirty-one and he was thirty
Acquainted with him in the mid-month of humid February
He reminds me of fresh boiled tea, roti and chick pea
And the ceiling fan he took snaps for streaks continuity
He reminds me of Japanese comics and series of anime
Which he could read and watch anytime of the day
He reminds me of cricket, football and all the games he play
And the time when he sang Aurora's runaway
He reminds of streams, mountains and valley
Showed me pics and clips of the northernmost India's beauty
He reminds me whenever there's an outage of electricity
How we struggle in life out of life's complexity
He reminds me that what keeps us going are money and responsibility
And we should be contented with it and just be happy.
He reminds me whenever I feel sleepy
Like him, I once was dependent on melatonin gummy
He reminds me of his yellow-striped collared tee
How it hugged and clung his body perfectly
He reminds me of his jaw and chin so beard-y
How I wish I could caress them tenderly
He reminds me now with everything I see
But everything is just a wish and I can't have him, unfortunately.
House just turned one hundred years old.
Wooden floors preserve foot-fossils of ancestors.
A fresh coat of paint cannot muffle yesterday's fireplace carolers.
Our stockings hang beside the stockings of ghosts.
House has a heart- a pulse- layered in golden life tones.
I feel at ease in every honey-smoked room
and perfectly balanced on the uneven floors.
I don't mind the infinite cobwebs
that once were catchers of dreams.
Its three peaks and thirteen stairs
had significant meaning to past tenants.
It means nothing now for certain -but it doesn't matter.
I respect their strong marriage to the pastel past.
There're pockets and niches
whose purpose is long forgotten.
Just like I will soon be.
A discarded tin can in a wildflower field.
Winter evenings that I spend with house
are the warmest I've ever had.
I pray it feels the same about me...
Hanging a stocking filled with endless gifts
from a pale, blue-collared memory.
The lush green moss that clothed
rocks and collared the base
of trees has begun to turn
a sickly gray and peel away
into powdery clumps. Nearby,
the contents of an old pot half filled
with water that had harbored
a menagerie of life all winter
has been distilled to dust.
Roots now rummage deeper
for water and where gulps fed exuberant
growth, small sips barely keep
a self culled canopy of leaves alive.
Life turns inward towards its core
and slips into a kind of trance
deep in its own shade,
hidden from summer's heat.
Further away beyond fences,
the bush primes its fuel. On hot days
a blue haze of eucalyptus oil hangs
in the air. Senses strain on raw nerves
to catch the first whiff of smoke
or the distant wail of a siren.
Arrogant hornless bull from farm roots
Dressing in dapper gentlemanly tweed suits
Topping his shirt with a gorgeous striped tie
Some of the cows in the pen say “my oh my!”
What is it about a suit? The blue collared bull asks.
Upset with their feminine wiles, his face is not masked.
He gives the hornless bull a nod with his mean hoof.
Do not ask me for a selfie, for I have no evidence or proof.
Blue-collared dice are tossed into fire lake.
Void of sevens and angels.
Heaven never seemed so far away-
Our collective innocents...
stuck on a glue strip of daddy's latest bad trip.
Hung from a bending nail of a crucifix.
Mommy's best friend is a smartphone.
It was never you.
Faith fled the scene long ago.
Long before the Cherry men screamed...
"Drop the amendment and your freedom to speak."
Never dream too deeply.
Nor venture beyond the froth of the breakers.
The small-town doctor slinks away from the oath.
Slinging baby #33 to the slag heap.
The alleyway glistening with bottle caps.
Needles of indifference.
The only thing left in the garden are boom slangs and charlatans.
Hissing "it isn't as bad as it seems".
Kiss me already
Can't wait anymore
There's snow on the ground
I'm warm to the core
Red fur collared jacket
Bluebird inside
Heat's generating
Not cold outside
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