New floors to sweep,
New friends to make,
New gardens to weed,
Overwhelm hits often.
Old choices continuing,
Old patterns surfacing,
Old grief at the cusp of breakthrough,
Anxiety festers quickly.
Timeless lessons learning,
Timeless memories made,
Timeless pain that could end,
Plans and organising are imperative.
Endless housework,
Endless toilet training,
Endless cuddles,
Love overflowing.
Current exhaustion,
Current pride,
Current sore muscles,
Brain buzzing.
Forever grateful,
Forever unknowing,
Forever feeling ahead,
Clarity and peace necessary.
A blank page,
A blank mind,
My thoughts consumed by one thing…
You.
I tried burying myself in organising,
And even then you pop up everywhere,
It’s like my brain won’t stop,
I can’t do anything without you,
Or so it seems.
I’m shaking just thinking about losing you,
But yet there’s a peace in me,
I know you’ll be fine,
I know you’ll come back,
I know…
I don’t know,
I’m convincing myself of what I know,
But I don’t believe it,
Not until you’re safe and sound in front of me.
So for the love of god,
Just come home
Broom
The involvement of
the outside sweeping broom in the
sequence of
poetry pamphlets organising into
piles based on
themes extends the period or
condition of
Kookaburra life.
You'll regret this summer
As children's bodies hang from branches
Childkill meets all too popular now
Teenage girls kiss their friends and say
I'm going to die/hell now
The mincers are out in clubs
And hell on earth
Seems the clerical assumation
Last I heard they're organising
Murder squads to kill worthless people
Like me.
Come on over sometime.
This is England now.
out of rain
out of water
garden pond dehydrated
organising rain dance
goldfish performing arts.
blondes
golden
unnatural
black roots displayed
bleached
funny women
pride and vanity shall destroy them!
She makes up the stories about things of the past,
She lies about how things occurred,
Happily rewriting stories of how life had played out;
History she tries to reword,
To make her the one organising the fun,
How he would obey as she said,
To make her the carrier of the moral high ground,
Now others are gone, sick or dead,
But what she can’t see, about these little facts,
Is that I, too, was there all along,
And can vouch for the actual truth of this past,
The truth exposing her wrong,
The quarrels and defiance, the lack of foresight,
The spite to frustrate, to make sad,
The hindrances that she’d put up all the time,
To stop the fun times that he had.
I sit alone and watch an enchanting sunset complete its day,
I want you to sit by my side until we become old and grey.
I relax knowing our love is strong and you are far away.
I won’t hold you in my arms for another month they say.
She went home overseas to tell her parents about our great day.
She was invited home to be blessed and receive a dowry.
Her parents were delighted when they heard she was going to marry me.
They are both disabled, not able to come to the wedding you see.
They are a loving family, holding a party to celebrate this event,
I have already written to them confirming my love and intent.
I am organising our wedding in the church in our village,
The church contains so many memories and our heritage.
My heart beats with love when I think of you as my bride,
It is not long now, it seems forever, waiting for you to be by my side.
I blow you a kiss, it has a long way to go,
The gentle breeze will carry it to you, I know, I know.
The reflections in a sand dune carries the ideological wisdom of a very sensual peanut. But should there be a sanctified mission on a cereal packet it is said to be the time for the rising of the eighteenth frying pan whose smooth unblemished surface can tackle even the toughest meat. Make soft the pillow on a flight of stairs. Climbing should be done carefully at this time. And arrival is not an apple shaped snake nor is it a walking bottle of beer. Tradition says that pouring a kettle should be carried out with the correct ornaments. They arrive to watch the steam. Great. Fascinating isn't it. Wandering wailing worldly-wise whale winking. And dust the floors of the seaweed droppings. Wow. Opinionated officials organising organs. And a mild swimming orchard in bathing suits. Haha flash fastened fork formation. Hahahaha Construction xxxxx deliberation z
Princes dart to take cups and cups run away very very fast. Fear not a well trodden cat and bear not a bead or a pillow when journeying across the lands. Knock at wooded glades. Taste the dew from a Moulton cup and throw two hundred buds into the sky. This will surely be worthy of classical clapping. Geese attend opera houses and listen very attentively to the performance of heifers and bulls who twirl with arias to thrill the crowds. Organising a creature is not clever. And dusting should only ever be carried out in a mile long queue. It gives great pleasure to greet distinguished guests at a banquet of vegetables. Unseen underneath undergrowth uniquely unified. Tailored not. Trained not. Tempering not. And noted are the teaspoons travelling like nomads over the bridges. Headstone head heading home. Radiantly watching a nine foot mineralised rugby ball smiling on a train. Hahahaha and now a dance for the floors and ceilings. Hahahaha rapidisation raiding radios racing. Hahahaha decentralization decorated dogs. Hexagonal oxen. Xx philosophically z
P poise and
grace,
O oiling
E earthen folks
to
T tread in
R realms
beyond their
Y yearn.
S Sincerely,
O organising
and
U utilizing
P poetry, that
soup with
which words
are eaten.
-poetry soup-
Can it be as hard as this?
A struggle of thoughts and feelings arises,
Not ever seeing a resolution,
Assessing the options that offer perhaps a brighter existence,
Weighing every pro and con against the alternative but always considering other’s feelings,
If we only had unlimited resources available,
Then all would experience their equal share of the occasion’s fortunes,
Every person a guest of honour at their own place of high importance,
But as the evening draws on towards another restless end,
Our task is still as complicated as the exercise which upon dawn's arrival met us,
Names are still unchecked whilst invites sit unwritten wanting a stamp,
A moment of peace is what our minds aspire for ardently,
But our wedding is too important for us to ignore the organising!
From the moment you see the babies face the face you have waited 9months to see.
The immense love overwhelming you, the hopes and dreams to follow
These are the tender years.
The first smile even though it was probably wind,
The first tooth you forget the nights of non-sleep, when baby cries in pain
The first step, the re-organising of the room so no injury can be had
The first word you argue whether it’s dadadad or mamamam that is said
All add up to be the indispensable time
That is engraved on your mind , Indelible, always will be there
Surely these merit being called,
The tender years.
Are the hungry laughing,
I think that’s not the case
Cos the pain of living
Means no smile on their face
But all things are possible
In the land of make believe
The hungry are no more and
The blind can see
But life isn’t make believe
Just our minds make it so
We can hide behind our thoughts
Putting right the wrongs we know.
So can the impossible, be possible
In the land of wide awakes
Just some organising
Is what it really takes.
So come on heads of governments
Do what u say is planned
Help the needy in your care
Make life liveable in your land.
Now that is possible.
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