Poetic Asides...November 30

Prompt...a moment to remember

My first high heels
were red and pointed
with the tiniest heel
they lived in a box
carefully wrapped
in tissue paper
I would bring them out
and look at them with
adoration I'd been
waiting for so long

Poetic Asides...November 29

Prompt... A number
8/11/88...Exit from Auschwitz


The very thought
of you paralyzes me
with fear and despair
Been twenty one
years and traces of toxin
still remain from our
marriage farce injected
by Dr. Faust
The holocaust you
foisted on me was
misdirected not
every blonde shiksa
is crucifixated or
a potential Irma Grese
You are wise to stay
with your own
I am wise to stay
with mine
At least I've learned
that from you

Poetic Asides...November 28

Prompt...through

CS Lewis found
his other world
through the
wardrobe door

Having spent a
lifetime looking for
it behind cupboards
under the kitchen sink
beneath rocks on the
ocean floor I still
haven't found it

Poetic Asides...November 27

Prompt ... A shape

A heart shape is iconic
done to death
love and kisses
A square is for
a crewcut with heavy
black framed spectacles
playing Dave Brubeck
now known as the nerd
I like the elusive spiral
a spiral of white smoke
wafting through keyholes
under doors around dark whispers
in the Vatican tickling the
new Pope's ears getting up
the losing Cardinals'
noses then emerging with
flocks of white doves
to the roar of the crowd
a very distant echo from
the days of the Colosseum
when this group would have
provided tasty morsels
for the Lion King
Cecil B De Mille looks
on making notes

Poetic Asides...November 26

Prompt...Giving thanks


I am eternally
grateful for the creative
spirit which enables me
to compose
a few words into jewels
a few scraps of paper into magic
and enables me to listen
to whole symphonies
in my head
and to God
who sent me someone
who views me as
a beautiful flower
rather than a
nutty fruitcake

Read Write Poem 102

Prompt...Food evoking memories

For my Grandmother


Dragees
Pink sugared almonds
evoke memories of
reflected candle light
through crystal glasses
sauterne roast chickens
glacee fruit split ripe figs
runny cheese venetian lace
lavender polished dark wood
a celebration dinner
at my grandmother's house
a print from the old dutch masters
Memere in marcel waves gleaming
glowing like a beacon
framed by her crystal ware
fragrant with l'air du temps
wearing crepe de chine laughing
her grace and irresistible femininity
her memorable haute cuisine
her rapture listening to
'Berceuse de Jocelyn' sung by Tino Rossi
is still very much part of that young child
who slipped smoked salmon tidbits
under the table to Florette

Poetic Asides...November 25

Prompt ...temperament

flat dark grey
leaf blowers
going mad
cockatoos screeching
neighbour's
filthy shoes
outside his front door
welcome home

Poetic Asides...November 24

Prompt ...everybody says

that Picasso is a genius
I've looked long and hard
I've even looked behind
they're wrong
everybody says Renoir
is just a chocolate box artist
they're wrong about that too
everybody says solander
has a pungent smell
it doesn't
everybody says tibouchina
is gaudy...wrong
everybody is probably
the most dangerous entity
on the planet I'm sure they
would not agree

Poetic Asides...November 23

Prompt...Noise

The sound of the amusical
the sound of success with
its tin whistle fife and drum
the sound of a leaf blower
the sound of a barb wired
aussie accent coming from
a petalled beauty breathing
out dragon's breath
the sound of motor bikes
the sound of speed boats
the sound of machine gun
fire from an exasperated poet

Poetic Asides...November 22

Prompt....emergency

What could possibly be urgent
after Veuve Cliquot Champagne
Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc
Figs Dolmathes Brie Artichoke Hearts
Asparagus Steak Belle Mere
Pommes Frites Sicilian Olive Salad
Mango Rockmelon Strawberry
Black Juicy Cherries with Vanilla
Marscapone Arabica Coffee
Ferrero Rocher and Macadamia
Chocolate with the Bach Brandenburg no 5
topped off with a Pavlova
Our Celebration Dinner
Dressed to Kill
Happiness and indulgent Joy
I feel an urgent need to
recapture this evening
by doing it again sooner rather than later

Spanish Steps at Rosie's Place Sunday Afternoon

Rose has a great music collection
art collection and books
her world is a lovely one with
rocks shells gumnut pods
far eastern fabrics with
huge fragrant candles of
sandalwood and nectar
and persian rugs
nothing random here
nothing jars
she is a real artist
she is having high tea
at Raffles this afternoon
I am here trying to grasp
all this beauty in my clenched palm
before the hot westerly forces it open
and it all goes flying up and across the bay
like the final arpeggio of the spanish steps

Poetic Asides...November 21

Prompt...invention

If necessity is the mother of invention
then the following need to be invented
a device on cell phones to self destruct if
used in a church concert hall or cinema
a device on washing machines to ward off
the odd sock thief a self cleaning toaster
an applied harmless cream that strips off
weight in 24 hours and while we're at it
a reinvention of genesis where Adam is
the dill who eats the apple and Eve refuses
to join in because she is too smart .

Poetic Asides...November 20

Prompt...And then

The orange sun hangs low
patterned by gum leaves
and palm fronds
the last boat wends its way
slowly to shore through
the reflected shimmer
Not a breath of wind
Everything is still before
the night curtains fall
the gardenias and jasmine
are putting on a special performance
even Tenzig our host's bengal cat
is staring at me with his jade green
eyes such a beautiful creature
And then I hear a car drive up
Louise and Colin are popping in
A pin scratches the surface of
a flawless pane of glass

Poetic Asides...November 19

Prompt...attached

The tide rolls in
the shells attached by suckers
to the rocks have been waiting
all day their sunbaked carapaces
cooled by salt sea foam
those that didn't make it lie
empty on the sand destined
to be pressed against
the sweat of a neck
or lie in a dark drawer

Poetic Asides...November 18

Prompt...Slow Poem

Sitting on a warm concrete step
listening to the crickets
twilight has drawn
the curtains
the hibiscus has closed
its petals for the evening
I sit staring
I may sit here
all night

Read Write Poem 101

Prompt Wordle
pea, procrastinate, parallelogram, porous, plaster, prevaricate, polyglot, plethora, platitudes,
processional, pernicious, prickle, posthumous

You'd have to be a pea brain
to procrastinate over constructing
a parallelogram shape in porous plaster
Don't prevaricate, just do it!

For heaven's sake
You don't have to be a soi-disant intellectual
like your polyglot Uncle Vladimir posthumously
acknowledged for his plethora of dreary
platitudes and show off piano pieces
of presto passages at the speed of light
trotting them out in a nonstop processional
to achieve this task
His pernicious exhibitionism was the epitome
of bad manners behaving like an insensitive
prick (oh I meant prickle which rhymes with schmockle)

Poetic Asides...November 17

Prompt...Implosion Explosion

It must be dark and mirky
Vladimir where your head
is placed dreaming of scintillating
prestos outshining your colonial neighbour
but sorry Vlad it can never happen
in the slow movements

A Sad Truth

Prompt...the sad sad truth

The sad sad truth is
that sensitive sweet
people who see
what the others can't
are dotted over four
corners of the globe
and can only hold hands
through a small screen

Crackers

Result of moving house and too much poetry
My Sharona to you Ms De Ville

Walk likea Man
Da dada Dum
I'm going Mad
Da dada Dum
Walk likea Man
Twir linga Round
Bal ancing Books
Up siide Down
Big Girls Don't Cry
Thanks alot Frankie
Now back to the real Four Seasons
and Every Valley























Big Girls Don't Cry

Poetic Asides...November 16

Prompt ...Clouds

Who would dive
headlong into
the clouds
and breaststroke
to the moon?
'Not I'
said gidget girl
dreaming in pink
gingham of Troy.

Poetic Asides...November 15

Prompt..... Hanging

So much of my life
has been hanging on
by a thread
an accomplished
tight rope walker
always without a net
not as nimble
as before suppose
it's inevitable
that I will lose my grip
and plunge

Poetic Asides...November 14

Prompt...A Song Line

People who need people
Are the luckiest people
In the world
Sorry Ms Streisand
Codswallop!
On the contrary
it would be recommended
people who need people
stock up on their pollyanna pills
in case there's a shortage
there's a reason that some families
have always sent their children away
to school at an early age
it has nothing to do with cruelty
or heartlessness.

Poetic Asides...November 13

Prompt...Renewable



I'm a bit of a whizz at house renovation
but when it comes to makeovers
I'm reluctant
by conventional fashion dictates
I should be walking around with
a bag over my head I need
new hair,new figure,new skin
new feet,face lift,bum tuck,
white teeth and botox

Why don't I?
Well apart from joining the
soma induced brave new world brigade
I'm far too vain
Besides, with tampering
you will never know all
the cycles of a life

So many automatons stuck fast
forever looking pre middle aged
(unless you get up close and personal )
missing the whole event

I've decided if you going to be alive
you may as well know what it's like
warts and all

Youth culture relentlessly pushed at us isn't so great
the youth aren't that mad about it either
judging by the looks I was getting at the
hardware store this morning
Boy,that's a worry

Poetic Asides...November 12

Prompt...If only

If only I wasn't so tired
I could read the RWP poems
If only I could find my keys
in a box somewhere
but out of 150 which one?
If only the piano removalists
had the sense to bring covers
before the rain set in
If only there was an elevator in my new place
If only I were a minimalist and not a collector
of everything moving would be easy
If only poor ol' Brown Pear was built
like Arnold Schwarzenegger
we could knock this move over faster
If only the Jersey Boys were neighbours
they could help moving boxes in harmony
and I could repay them by being their manager
If only cactus didn't have lethal prickles
If only the marmalade boys
could chip in and make themselves useful for once
If only I could stay in bed for a week

Read Write Poem # 100

Sweet Dreams Aren't made Of This.

I wonder what a shrink would make of this!

This can't be happening
It has been decades
Nothing's changed
You still play like an angel
You still grip your instrument
firmly between your thighs
coaxing tenderness from those strings
with your nimble expert fingers
A familiar terrible longing overwhelms me
as you play
I can feel myself sinking again

My eye moves along
In slow motion I see
Inspector Foyle leading the viola section
Honeysuckle Weeks is sitting next to him
She looks flummoxed
Poor girl has lost her place
He strokes her ear with a sprig of mimosa
I feel betrayed by this
and then he resumes playing

That other face is familiar too
That can't be Derrick playing
virtuosic cadenzas on a harpsichord
covered in palm fronds and driftwood
Princess Michael is turning the pages
she waves to me and mouths
'Kincoppal reunion tomorrow'
I feel terribly elated at seeing her
and Derrick and then in an instant
feel upset that he has kept this from me


The music ends
the applause erupts
You take a bow
You look at me
and break into a smile
I gasp and quickly lower my eyes
I'm dancing on the rim of the moon
my damp hands clutch the fur coat
of a complete stranger
I wring it like a wet tea towel
She sits next to me
blissfully unaware
in the concert hall


I look up and there to my horror
you stand on stage morphed into Rowan Williams
enrobed in ecclesiastical vestments
a yellowing smile encased in Father Christmas whiskers
along with full eyebrow growth like
thick unruly privet hedges
I panic remembering that
I have left the eggs boiling on the stove

Poetic Asides...November 11

Prompt...Construction

It takes so much time
and care to construct
a nest
a painting
a tapestry
an embroidery
a life
I am constantly amazed
at what survives
the destructive hands
of a pol pot or philistine
or even smiling pollyanna
next door

Poetic Asides...November 10

Prompt...Love

It was always so
dangerous for me...love
I 'd walk into somebody's eyes
and lose myself completely
the most sublime experience
you could ever imagine
for a short time
the rest,rolling around in hell
shedding enough tears to
fill the all the dams
of a dry continent

Poetic Asides...November 9

Prompt...A Slippery poem

A hot steak and mushroom pie
with mille feuilles puff pastry
the slippery slide to obesity
ill health and terribleness
May as well slip further
get hung for a sheep
than just for a lamb
another slice of banana cake
topped with passionfruit icing
just a little drambuie in the cream
with the iced coffee
I'm moving house
I need cheering up
I feel much better
I don't believe this stuff
will kill me
If it does
It was worth it

Poetic Asides...November 8

Prompt...Should

Should I go on
about not leaving the cutlets
out to defrost?
Should I go on about not
putting petrol in the car?
Should I go on about
not sorting the wash?
No I wont
I can either take the bus
get food poisoning
or wear multi coloured whites
Or
I could live on my own

Poetic Asides...November 7

Prompt ...Poem for a plant

My fingers ache
My quicks are torn
My eyelids droop
with fatigue
My legs are on automatic pilot
running up and down stairs
I would like to fall into a bath
full of frangipani and wild jasmine
but I will choose the lone tiny cactus
sitting on the sill to honour
It thrives regardless
so grateful for a few drops of water
to quench its crew cut needles
so reliable I don't need to get a plant sitter
sits in a closed up room for weeks on end
and is always pleased to see me when
I come home
I like its defiance.

Poetic Asides...November 6

Prompt...blanket,covering or covered

A blanket of nicotine
sitting at the desk
coughing and spluttering
the reek of cigarette smoke
wafting in through the window
enough to kill a brown dog
mongrels to the left chainsmoking
mongrels to the right chainsmoking
hanging out of windows
a xmas tree of lit fags
dropping like fire rain
from heaven upon the place beneath
on my car
an endless shuffle of itnerants
Right,I'm sealing all the windows
I 've got this covered
forgot to take into account the need for air
one needs to breathe in a Sydney summer
OK (cough).... I'm moving out(cough) today!

Poetic Asides...November 5

Prompt.....Growth

My hair has finally grown
I'm no longer blonde
au naturel for the first time
in decades and oh so much
grey
To dye or not to dye
that is the question
whether it is more bearable
to be grey or tolerate the
excruciating chat of a hairdresser
a visit to whom is filled with dread
I've tried at least twenty
The pain to be beautiful is too much
I will grow old disgracefully and grey
My pets are looking adoringly at me
It has nothing to do with meal time
They just know

Poetic Asides...November 4

Personal Challenge for Poetic Asides is to write a poem in five minutes.If it took longer I would not be able to commit to writing thirty of them.
Prompt...Maybe -

Maybe it's too late
to mend broken friendships
to forgive and forget
to learn ballet
to be demure
to flutter my eyelashes
to ride a bike across Europe
Probably...
Maybe it's too late
to be a free spirit
and run away with
the long hair'd Italian cellist
Definitely not...

Poetic Asides...November 3

Prompt Day 3...Positive Aspects about November

November

First surf of the season
Melbourne Cup Lunch
Numero Uno's Birthday
Night Jasmin blossoms
Cherry and Mango season
Mince tarts and iced fruit cake
are already on the shelves

Buttercup and Brown Pear
commit wicked sins of
over indulgence and
Xmas shopping giving
credit cards a good work out
on books and more books
some women like earrings
I wear books
my ear lobes are dragging
along the ground

VILLANELLE

Another easy riddle...Who am I?

You promised to love me forever
You lied and married another
May suffering follow us together

You slew the dragon and leisured
I got the fleece for your father
You promised to love me forever

You said your marriage was unpleasur'd
A princess was spoilt and a bother
May suffering follow us together

I covered her robes in poison'd feathers
You wont destroy me I'd rather smother
You promised to love me forever

The unspeakable struck like monstrous weather
A crime committed against all mothers
You promised to love me forever
May suffering follow us together

I AM WATCHING YOU AND LISTENING TO YOU

THE DANGERS OF BLOGGING
I AM WATCHING AND LISTENING TO YOU

Entering my blog
is like coming into my
house sans door
Anyone may enter
look around, snoop
go through my underwear drawer
take what they like
but can't make a mess or
put nasty messages under my pillow
I'm not sure if I should be living here.

( I wrote this when I first started blogging in 2009)


ADDENDUM 14/5/2011
Well
little did I know of the
DANGER of blogging
My instincts were right almost two years ago.

You can have every conversation listened to
and viewing of your life's most intimate moments through
your computer without your knowledge.It could ruin your life ( if you had an interesting one i.e.)

REMEMBER to BLOCK the WEB CAM and MICROPHONE and NEVER leave anything slightly compromising or any personal information on a computer which can be hacked into and stolen by evil poetry technonerds.