A New Beginning

Part One

My wonderful Trish

I see the news all about
how I love my darling Trish
She is my rock
Somewhere I can anchor myself to
Ride out the waves of fear
she is so wonderful and understanding
I feel blessed by her presence
calming and relaxing
never change my darling
I love you so much

My Lovely Trish

Thank you for being there my darling
you comfort me so much
more than you can ever know
times when you least think it
I am feeling refreshed by you
you are always there for me
a fountain of strength on which I feed
I hope I give you equal strength
I love you more than words can say
you are my darling
thank you for you
my lovely Trish


Work Weekend

the weekend dawns once more
I find myself looking forward to its coming
after working for my first week
the weekend comes as a relief
time to play with Sarah
read a few comics
spend some hours with Trish

a tree blew down in our back garden
eucalyptus just coming into fruit
in the last major storm
the main branch had snapped off
now the whole thing has fell over
ripping the trunk close to where it entered the soil
the chilly spring morn found me chopping away
dodging the intermittent rain shower

Sarah was helping me
nearly cutting her hands as she closed in on the saw
later climbing on the garden table
sitting, watching and giving instructions
after shifting it
putting the branches behind the shed
out of sight, out of mind
I attempted to dig out the trunk
with a cracked spade
into hard rock soil
gave up quickly as the rain came down

Sarah played with her blocks
pushing the cart around the garden
digging up soil
chucking it about
pointing to the mess
saying 'uh oh'
as though to say 'who did this'
she is wonderful

as I write the rain has ceased
Sarah is sat on the table
talking down the phone
she loves it
imitating what Trish and I do
chatting and laughing
saying 'its for you'
passing it onto Trish or I


Sunday with Paul, Fiona and Natalie

meal to get ready
house to clean
Trish up early to mop the floors, iron the clothes, cook the dinner
I lay in bed
sleeping
reading the Sunday paper
playing with Sarah
Trish works like a slave
I eventually crawl out of bed and lend a hand
clean the outside windows
gathering the ladder from the shed for the front two
high to climb
cannot reach
need the ladder
ends up spread-eagled in the front flower bed with me onboard
reaching up
clothe in hand
Windex in pumper shooting out at the window
all clean
ready to relax
cup of coffee
glass of wine before the guests arrive
Sarah off to party with her friends
here they come
baby in hand looking hungry as ever
eating prawns, rice and chicken
hungry little baby
we talk
bring up old wounds and family secrets
baring all for the group
who are we
do we know each other
what does it matter
over a glass of wine, Guinness and summer pudding
enough for anyone
goodbye,
see you again soon
cheers.


Primary School Memories

primary school memories flood back
one lady teacher slapping me across the face
for what, I don't remember
just the astonishment followed by anger at the whole thing
I turned and thumped some stacked tables
unfortunately connecting with the sharp corner
I can still feel the explosion of pain
self inflicted but agonising just the same
I cringe when I recollect it

other thoughts intrude
putting on the school pantomime
the excitement
going along to the initial meeting
finding out who one was to play
scripts handed out
searching with a keen desire for the lines of yours
I never got a major part
always missed out to a mixture of sadness combined with relief

One year we put on a western
I played the main characters dad
a few lines at the start and end of the play
I remember feeling nervous
as I had to say the first words of the play
the intense speculation and excitement growing as
the performance dates drew near
a dress rehearsal in the full clobber
laughter and fun as we each dressed up

on the night of the play makeup was introduced
I loved getting made up
when we did a pirate play I drew on scars and the like
I loved that costume
mum had made it and she did a great job
blue pantaloon bottoms
I wore them in the house enjoying the make believe

the school hall filled on the night of the play
mum and dad joining all the other parents
lights dimmed
we in the back changed into our costumes
put on our makeup and got ready
an expectant hush fell over the crowd
suddenly music, lights and the play was on


Dancing with the Trees

the sign flashed neon and bright
cascading light shades all over me
knocking me backwards and forwards
rocking on my heels
a whirling dervish of activity

golden glow of absolution
terrifying absence of all the things
no illusion or dreams
light emanating from no source
simply itself
it is enough for it is all

walking to the tune of Amadeus
chanting Gregorian monks silently singing
flutes tootling along in harmony
I bow to the sycamore tree
taking hold of the succulent green branches

'may I have this dance'
speaking metaphorically to this imposing suitor
the branches fluttered
showering me in brown, soft leaves
smiling, I had my answer


Crony

I lived close to school
both primary and secondary
the hot summers spark
coming home across the fields
football under the arm
ready to drop the coats at a moments nod
'anyone for a kickabout?'
nights seemed eternal
sun not setting till way past ten
ice cream man pulling up at home time
a sight we found hard to resist
moving in like vultures
on days we had no money
trying to cadge some pence or sneaking
a lick catching the holder unawares
filled bowls covered with nuts and strawberry sauces
my favourite
spending seconds admiring the shape before plunging an aching tongue
into the freezing midst
walking home crossing Envil road
Fodey and I grabbed a loose pole
giving it hefty pulls to dislodge it
plainclothes copper caught us
petrified I began sobbing
Fodey handled himself better, listening but making no sound
'he'll tell mum and dad' echoed through my mind
visions of beatings popped in
of course, I can now look back
still with a hint of shame at those tears
my manhood breached so easily
nothing happened
no reports home
summer days and a closed road
massive machines digging it up
holes dug in the sand under the machines
we all slid into our makeshift hideaway
frightened of the bulldozer collapsing
burying us alive
one of my recurrent fears
I saw others going in and out with no trace of fear or
so it seemed at the time
I avoided it because I was scared
only going in occasionally to show I was no cissy
Cronny lived in that road
the fact he never brushed his teeth and had lots of money
stick in my mind
we never became great friends
but had a time or two
circles of friends crossed
our gang was more sporty
his, more for getting into trouble
I envied him his reputation
I cannot remember him at secondary school
not seen him for years
did see Darren Campbell
year younger than both of us who hung out with Cronnys gang
told me Cronny had got married
forget the job
seems he is happy enough
I am glad
Darren has grown big
strange seeing people from a distant time in the local boozer
sinking a few pints
what to talk about
everything.


Play some more Sam

Once more unto the breach
I fired a slingshot, took his bloody head clean off
lying on the floor
head and body apart
blood oozing from both parts
I stepped in it leaving a distinctive footprint
what will the cops make of that
catch me
no chance, not even if I stood in front of their face
told em I had done it
would not have a clue
sauntering back to my car
shocked passers-by look aghast at my striding figure
see the fear as I turn to look at them
little do they know the truth
they are safe because of me
the demon in front of them looking like a human
in some other form it finds its feet
not dead
not even wounded
just stopped for a short while as it is forced to return to its master
God will triumph
love will conquer all
never forget that
play some more Sam


You are Nothing

here and now I write this line
now I write this one
then this
and this
on it goes
live on this line
live in the here and now
enjoyment will arrive spontaneously
mind quietens
brain quietens
with no mind
future goes
so does past
problems, worries and anxieties
after these have gone
what is left of the 'I'
nothing
you are nothing
live now and be nothing
nothing but truth
seeing this surrender
stop fighting
and go with the flow of the river
I am nothing
but truth.


Simply see

staccato rhythm of my heart
bumping like an albatross at golf
white oblong ball hit perfectly
spinning like the mosaic world
pulling information from all over the world
sneaking onto my computer
filling it up
overflowing
information about information
masses and masses
VICNET and Melbourne freenet
a network of community information
look inside
all is possible
when the mind is quiet
all the walls will spontaneously have gone
prison fallen apart
jailer sea is ignorance
in that seeing is freedom
no need to do anything
simply see


the score is god

I know the score
a wink and a nod to all the good fellows you know
more who you know
not what you know
goodbye dear friend I loved you once long time ago
now I look with contempt
never daring to touch your feeble body again
feeble mind too stupid to say regret ne moiré
who needs you
go away I have a bottle to keep me company
taste the juice of revenge
of hate for the one you still love
returning not this love you cry in despair
if not me then no one
I will see to it
even if it means killing the fucking bastard
kill the one you love
incredible but true when you see true love at work
rational thought has no place
as such is closer to god
reacting with no thought on the spur of the moment
praise be to god above we men and women
can still feel like this
passion and more passion we
all need it
touché my angel of death
let me lick your fanny and feel gods breathe on my shoulder.



Moon on my head

I saw the moon
she fell
on top of my head

goodness gracious
I exclaimed
moon sitting snugly on my top

he has the moon on his head
look at him
ha, ha, ha

I smiled inwardly
ignoring the laughter
after all

it was me the moon fell on
not them but me
I reached up

felt the scaly orb
lizard skin texture
solid and craggy

who knows the whys
who knows the wherefores
I only know

I have the moon on my head


Sitting on the Train

sitting on the train
8:15 to town
work rush
pushing and shoving
people dressed smartly
suits and ties
briefcases in hand
rush on to get a seat
excuse me
sit down relieved
gaze at everyone
all in their own worlds
not speaking
solemn like a funeral
they all look at me
I am the same


The Tug

a tug
a tug
upon my shoulder
policeman looking stern
notebook out
truncheon hanging loose
can I help you officer
no thanks
up against the car
spread em
what for
no backchat now sonny Jim
do as I say
honestly mate
I ain't done owt
of course you ain't
now spread em
images flash across the space
echoes of a distant past
I look and they are gone
gone
but not forgotten


sorrow on the highway

paper loves a pen
ink spewing over virgin white
orgasmic passion unleashed
in the flood of words
knocking all behind
in front covering echoes of the sandman
blasts of air enliven the scene
an old trucker
sees the shape of an angel
hovering on the dash
swerving to avoid the eyes
of a brilliantine rabbit
laughing in the middle of his nightmare
crashing through the tailgate
catapulted into the void
smiling at his vision
a knowing grin eclipsing his sorrow


laughing at the scribbles

the back end of a pad
filled with information
child grasps her pen
laughingly she scribbles
all over it
sits back and admires her work.


Finding Joy

I drink another stubby
goes down nicely
warming the cockles of my heart
lovely stuff
too much down the gullet
throw up the source of all guilt
hangover like a cry of forgiveness
have to be still
think of nothing though the mind cascades
but it hurts
give up because of the pain and find relief
do it when sober
do it all the time
give up because it is meaningless
find relief
joy and freedom.


The Last Drink

last night I drank
Guinness and bottles of it
swilling it down my gob

first time in ages I've had a good neck
waking up this morning
head banging like a

truck was driving over it
I remembered why I hated drinking
the heavy nagging headache

in my case lasting all day
destroying my energy
feeling useless and depressed

the joy of waking clear headed
Is wonderful and precious
take it easy with the booze

a glass of wine
one bottle of beer
enough for anyone

bullshit


Cost of the illusion

evening struck the chimes of life
patience my friend
eternity is here
your turn will come
alive
kicking
smelling the roses
look around my child
kids playing on swings
snorting coke
getting smashed out of their brains
but the light is there
self luminous
penetrating through all the grime
poking beyond the good
it is neither the good or the evil
it simply is
transcending both
we are the light
look within
cost of the illusion


Sunday morn and arvo

Sunday morn
the lawn is mowed
edges trimmed
painting done
gutters cleaned
fence washed
dog pooh cleared
birds fed
cats too
dogs walked
sun is shining
records playing
cats meowing
wife cooking
child playing
me snoring


Swimming with Sarah

swimming
on a Tuesday with Sarah
she plays with her dolls
Ernie and Bert
kick, kick, kick, kick
how I miss
swimming with Sarah


Day at the fringe

driving towards the fringe
street party to celebrate its opening
three weeks of happenings
plays, films, art
others indescribable
all taking place in Melbourne
today they have the street fair
open air stages filled with bands
from 1pm to seven
as we approached traffic built
roads closed ahead
where to now?
Duck down this back alley
no good
all spots filled
no through road
cars had followed us down
somehow we all managed to
manoever out of the tight squeeze off onto
the main road again
only in the wrong direction
sun is out
temperature rising outside
matched by inside the car
traffic slowed to a crawl
and further away
we'd have to bus it back in
tried another side alley
again road blocked
cars turning and going back
Trish spots an opening between car and tree
you'll get in there
I doubt it
I'm not the best parker in the world
Trish has confidence
directing me with aplomb
lovely
off to the action
quietly pull Sarah out of the car
she is sleeping
positioning her in the pusher
she happily snuggles down
we pass Fitzroy town hall
magnificent gothic building
we remember going to an African party there
I remember boozing in pub opposite too
we arrive at the street
Brunswick St in fitzroy
blocked off and packed with folks
people sitting on roofs
drinking, smoking
greeting friends
scoffing grub from the roaring eateries
fixed and mobile
all well and good
but what's there to see
a few bands play amid the backdrop
hidden by a mass of heads
we struggle through the crowd
pushing Sarah along in the trolley
crowds thicken
I feel trapped
what are we doing here
we must escape
I motion to Trish
she agrees
lets scarper down the next road
we see one
but can't get near
the crowd is just too thick
and by the road we're aimed for
stands a pub
doors open
with a correspondingly denser crowd
packed around it
boozing away
we have to make it through them
we'll never do it
we have to try
amazingly the crowd parts
like the proverbial Red Sea
made it
out of the throng
quiet and calm descends
breathing a sigh of relief
we head for the park
Sarah can play there

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