Greedy vine spirals smother monoliths
Spider fern moss, fairy forest vertical
Soaks in secrets, promise admonished
Water trawled crevice, creek cervical
Church canopy arch angel honours
Wing finger cool fires praise prancing
Laser selects sections, bark polished
Licked by flitting demure madonnas
Eight afore taped to trees keen tropical
Each fresh capes the chapel innocent
Suckers strung hearts hung over tendrils
Hundred year hardness rots, wet spent
Mighty trunk rips open room charcoal
Doorway discloses disaster clandestine
Bluebeard’s bride wives winding sparkle
Shon hopeful on nymph number nine
3rd of July
Daintree Dancing
BLACK MADONNAS…
(For My Mother, Her Sisters And Mine Too)
The have toiled
In blood and pain:
Birth.
They have labored
In sun and rain;
Their tears
Have watered
Sunken graves:
Earth.
They are the ebony loins
From which we sprung:
Old
And
Young.
They are the guardians of our faith;
Surviving for our sake.
Without them, Precious Lord,
Where would we be?
Jesus! I thank God for the Mothers
Who have Fathered me!
He loved
his sisters and nephews and nieces
his friends, his enemies and Skittles
Neil Young and Hendrix and Dylan
LSU, the Astros, the Saints
crab boils and back-yard basketball
running the roads with his buddies...
Yes he loved
many things and hated very few
Like sitting up late and talking
about good music and bad movies
about prancing, primping pre-madonnas
about good and evil and wrong and right
about God, the Universe and human folly
about the why and when and what and where
with insight that defied his young years
as if he knew...
Oh yes he loved
trying anything he never tried
trying, almost desperately trying
to cram a whole lifetime
into twenty one years...
Oh how he loved, oh how he laughed
Oh how he sparkled and shined...
(Yet it was that faint tint of sadness,
a far off look, a tiny shake of the head
as if he knew...)
Whats all them kids doing on them streets?
Mostly from families on social security meats.
Annoying good old folk with skint praying knees.
From the honky tonk followers of the breaches of the peace!
Kickin up a tin can or worse if a sing song!
Like laughing hyenas upsetting the madonnas.
So build addict islands plugged into the pylons!?
Staff it with missions of puritan divisions.!?
Let them loose on the reality house!
We can laugh at the antics of broken sad romantics.
The drunk hall of fame in the addled hit brains!
Which side of the wall does god stand tall?
Now all the noise that annoys those good old boys!
Is the rattle of the keys that gives everyone peace!?
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