The accused Suspect X was summonsed
to the central court for a mention.
Bold and fearing nothing he tied his
trusting dog Unconditional Love to
the railing outside but lo! He was
sent down for two years!
The dog looked with increasing
worry to the only exit as the
afternoon shadows lengthened
into evening.
A young female barrister from
the DPP spotted love, knew
the offender would be longer
than anticipated and fostered
love into her own home.
Cuddles were exchanged and
praise heaped upon her kindness.
In the glow of this action
the inner city appeared to sparkle,
even toilet paper felt softer.
Eventually X, now on parole,
was able to lay claim to his
best friend and was duly presented
with an invoice for $73,000 for
the maintenance of
Unconditional Love
during his incarceration.
Wednesday, 10 July 2013
Saturday, 6 July 2013
#78 The Shadow Reader
She sits opposite
the swami Anilkumar
in newly purchased
saffron cheesecloth
acquired recently for
a pittance, eyes fixed
in rapture.
He is a soothsayer,
a psychic Phd in the
school of shadow knowledge.
In sonorous tones he can
divine ones entire self
past, present, and future
by calculating a paper cut out
of your shadow measured
with arcane rulers made from
fresh palm leaves and marked
with mysterious symbols.
He stares with intense brown
eyes and nods his shaven head
sagely.
In her previous life she was a highly
born spiritual and intellectual identity
in the upper Himalayas
......... but wait! There are
problems! He reaches out and
cups her breast, lightly
brushing the nipple, there
are blockages in her 'chakra'
energy centres .Healing sessions
will be needed at 3000 rupees each.
She will need many, many,many
sessions he states with multiple
sideways movements of his head,
but how else will she remove the
curse he can perceive has been
placed on her by an evil shaman
she did not notice in Chandigarh
where, he has observed from the label,
she purchased her outfit.
the swami Anilkumar
in newly purchased
saffron cheesecloth
acquired recently for
a pittance, eyes fixed
in rapture.
He is a soothsayer,
a psychic Phd in the
school of shadow knowledge.
In sonorous tones he can
divine ones entire self
past, present, and future
by calculating a paper cut out
of your shadow measured
with arcane rulers made from
fresh palm leaves and marked
with mysterious symbols.
He stares with intense brown
eyes and nods his shaven head
sagely.
In her previous life she was a highly
born spiritual and intellectual identity
in the upper Himalayas
......... but wait! There are
problems! He reaches out and
cups her breast, lightly
brushing the nipple, there
are blockages in her 'chakra'
energy centres .Healing sessions
will be needed at 3000 rupees each.
She will need many, many,many
sessions he states with multiple
sideways movements of his head,
but how else will she remove the
curse he can perceive has been
placed on her by an evil shaman
she did not notice in Chandigarh
where, he has observed from the label,
she purchased her outfit.
Tuesday, 2 July 2013
#77 Sleep
The kangaroos thump outside
the green metal shed
in the night and
my dogs bark their desire
to chase them.
I can barely recall what
it means to sleep well,
A sort of abscence
wasn't it?
A stillness like the
farm dam on a hot
summer night.
From time to time
like a passing breeze,
a dream will ruffle
the otherwise
invisible surface.
Then the intimate
horizonless darkness
closes in again
and the next thing
you know
it is morning.
the green metal shed
in the night and
my dogs bark their desire
to chase them.
I can barely recall what
it means to sleep well,
A sort of abscence
wasn't it?
A stillness like the
farm dam on a hot
summer night.
From time to time
like a passing breeze,
a dream will ruffle
the otherwise
invisible surface.
Then the intimate
horizonless darkness
closes in again
and the next thing
you know
it is morning.
Monday, 1 July 2013
#76 Tempo
Sometimes life
can pass by quite
quickly decades
even, as you age
the faster it goes.
Sitting there
trying to decide
if a picture is
hanging straight
not noticing that
the water has boiled
the kettle has
switched itself off
and the little red eye
under the on button
is slowly dying.
can pass by quite
quickly decades
even, as you age
the faster it goes.
Sitting there
trying to decide
if a picture is
hanging straight
not noticing that
the water has boiled
the kettle has
switched itself off
and the little red eye
under the on button
is slowly dying.
Saturday, 29 June 2013
#74 Snow flakes
Snow is cold and wet
but also magical.
There is magic in
the mathematically
perfect flakes
that fall after
the still chill,
soft as down,
hard as frost,
a contradiction.
As I watch them
in the twilight
this July evening
a couple of flakes
swirl hither and
thither, aimless,
unaffected by
gravity and their
own will
apparently.
They will land
wherever chance
dictates, and
then they will
melt and vanish,
and I wish that
my life was
similar
There would be
some comfort
in that.
but also magical.
There is magic in
the mathematically
perfect flakes
that fall after
the still chill,
soft as down,
hard as frost,
a contradiction.
As I watch them
in the twilight
this July evening
a couple of flakes
swirl hither and
thither, aimless,
unaffected by
gravity and their
own will
apparently.
They will land
wherever chance
dictates, and
then they will
melt and vanish,
and I wish that
my life was
similar
There would be
some comfort
in that.
Monday, 24 June 2013
Poem # 72 Old Service Station and Hotel
This servo sits high on a
curving mountain road.
The signs and windows now broken
and patched with fibro.
Once a Golden fleece beckoned,
now only a shattered and broken
ring on top of a tapering pole.
The pub nearby has become
less profitable
and is now a peeling
castle for superannuated
trivia buffs, middle aged
drinkers and lonely souls
on the look out for
other lonely souls.
It still has a crumbling beauty
sitting on the rain-wet
overgrown terrace
overlooking the beautiful
vista of the
valley below.
A scene always impressive
be it illuminated in sunshine
or wrapped in fog,
but now this rest stop
is emotionally bankrupt,
all assets transferred,
an ex lover with
transferred affections.
curving mountain road.
The signs and windows now broken
and patched with fibro.
Once a Golden fleece beckoned,
now only a shattered and broken
ring on top of a tapering pole.
The pub nearby has become
less profitable
and is now a peeling
castle for superannuated
trivia buffs, middle aged
drinkers and lonely souls
on the look out for
other lonely souls.
It still has a crumbling beauty
sitting on the rain-wet
overgrown terrace
overlooking the beautiful
vista of the
valley below.
A scene always impressive
be it illuminated in sunshine
or wrapped in fog,
but now this rest stop
is emotionally bankrupt,
all assets transferred,
an ex lover with
transferred affections.
Wednesday, 12 June 2013
#73 My Dogs
My dogs can experience sorrow, grief, and joy.
They can plan ahead, laugh,
and even deliberately deceive.
They have cognitive ability.
As I gaze into their compelling eyes
I wonder why it has taken
humans so long to accept that
our fellow animals
think and feel like us.
They can plan ahead, laugh,
and even deliberately deceive.
They have cognitive ability.
As I gaze into their compelling eyes
I wonder why it has taken
humans so long to accept that
our fellow animals
think and feel like us.
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