Abandoned by modern aspirations
replaced by concrete and steel
warped and shrinking timbers
an amber chaff of peeling paintStill in place where it was discarded
vine-wrapped and faded away
empty window eyes and doorway mouth
cracked brick of a chimney askewOnce the vibrant happy homestead
the laughter of children now ghosts
green moss in contrast in a sea of grey
a cold and unsettling inertia
Oh sweet butterfly
were you so tired
and did you know
that your faded wings
once simmering
once brilliant would
soon fall silent and still?
Oh mariposa
is that why you flew
so violently in to the
gathering clouds
your fragile body torn
and falling back to us
like terrible confetti?
Under the cold clean waves
in the emerald green quiet
where you only hear thoughts
and light is a lively ballerina
refracting and diffusing
casting patterns on the seabed
when you break the surface
and your ears fill with noise
even in the world chaotic
you always emerge renewed
Watch it
as it gradually forms
there the corner of your eye
and sparkling slowly grows from nothing
then tumbles down your cheek
a little bead of silver
follow as it cascades
off your chin
watch it
It started as a chill
beneath the covers
which I had drawn tight
and filled with warmth
The hour was not apparent
some time in the eerie
small dark haunted hours
when even cats choose rest
In shock I was awoken
by the creeping ice breath
and clearing my drowsy lids
was drawn to the foot of the bed
Where I saw him
It ended with confusion
and a racing heart-beat
eyes wide open
the ghostly figure stealing sleep
Drop another quarter weight on
it makes no difference to me
you wouldn’t be the first to do it
to rely on my better nature
my lack of complaint
Add some more things to the pile
whatever you can find will do
you know everyone has a limit
but you haven’t found mine yet
my boiling point
Pluck a bit more at that sad old song
as though someone was listening
you know i’ve heard it before
that mournful self pity
yours, not mine
Night chill settles in
Lightning in the distant hills
Thunder in the grass
It started in that tipping point
before the hour of midnight
as I wandered from the first bar
and went searching for the next
After vacating the theatre
I had met a group of actors
but they couldn’t last the distance
so I set out on my own
And the pots of beer were flowing
all the different shades of amber
the patrons ply their chatter
I make eyes across the bar
With my signals not receiving
I decide to venture onwards
so take up my leather jacket and
make a beeline for the door
As suburb dwellers scrambled
for the last train home til morning
I encountered fellow travellers
outside some dim-lit crowded dive
When they asked where I was going
made a comment on my fashion
appreciate the rock-star t-shirt
you must linger one bar more
In the cigarette smoke fog screen
we establish they are German
produce a beaten old guitar and
make our way up from the hum
As we stumble down La Trobe street
filled with liquor and good feelings
we busk Beatles, Pop and Bowie
passers by break in to dance
We exchange a farewell embrace
at the steps to their dark hostel
as I see the creeping sunrise
light the park near my hotel
I’d have liked to keep on singing
but the sheets and blankets comfort
and instead I slip to sleep while
the clock hands signal day
And just like my fleeting dreamscape
my great musical career
dissipates in to the memories
of the drunken concert band
Yes, I’m sure you’ve spent a lot of time
deciding on this plan of action
but let me put you right on one or
two quite seperate specific points
so when this seedling comes to fruit you
won’t have any catastrophic
flaws that we could have avoided
if you’d checked your ego at the door
LVX CREARE 