Haiku

Nana's pink bloomers
I used to make smart remarks
Now I'm wearing them

Haiku

suspender belts
broken snaps and threepences
holding them in place

George Benson

I found you again
in a shoebox
you've been lying
there for quite awhile
and the floodgate opens
with a rush of memories
beautiful young rich
boats lunches parties
travel jewellery cars
accounts and you
continental clever you
an irresistible charm
genius who was always
summer fun a cornucopia
of endless excitement
there are too many boxes
of you lying around here
And now I must rearrange
my face to hide my thoughts
of you

RWP 111

Prompt: A surreal photo called 'Mood Disorder' .

Things You Might Not Know About Me
In Summer I think of Spain and all things Spanish. I am enjoying peace and exquisite quiet (in ferocious summer heat) 500kms away from Sydney.It is a relief to be away from my nemesis
noisy neighbour Vlad the Impaler who is making life intolerable there with his tortuous piano pounding starting early in the morning hammering all day long.

The neighbour's dance (seguillidas) is the opening of 'The Three Cornered Hat' an orchestral
suite by Manuel De Falla.






Close Encounters of the Third Kind with a Three Legged Chair

Yes I recognise your sad seat
I've seen you through the balcony door opposite
when you were in one piece overwhelmed
by overweight mounds of cossack flesh

So,you think I look like a Spanish Conquistador with the hood
Odd you should say that, I've been feeling very Spanish these days
with De Falla's 'Three cornered Hat' theme spin cycling in my
seasonally spanish'd summer mind with its swoosh of taffeta
flaired flamenco skirts and sudden gusts of white hot breeze
awash with seguillidas, sangria, lemon sunshine and Salvador Dali

Now if he was still about he would have taken your leg
and used it as a moustache curler
I suspect that the mystery of your missing leg
could be attributed to a certain whiskered poet
friend of mine with a penchant for kiss curls

Sadly you finally fell apart
anchored down by the juggernaut's
vast bulk and persistent piano pounding
crashing to the floor
to the sledge hammering of Prokofiev
your fate now sealed
on a one way trip
to the rubbish dump

The impaler's lengthy hospital confinement
seems like rough justice
for a piano massacre
at the top end of the richter scale
and the destruction of a very nice chair

Whoopee the neighbours dance is in full swing
at the welcome thought of sleep and a
vibrating wall free zone
I owe you,mi tortilla espanola pequena dulce
I'll find a home for your three little legs
on my balcony and adorn you with
a lick of lavender polish and a
bright red geranium

RWP 110 TRANSLITERATION

I have chosen three stanzas of a poem by the German poet Goethe
The only German I know is from 'Hogans Heroes '

TRANSLITERATION

Erlkonig by von J.W.Goethe

Wer reitet so spat durch Nacht und Wind
On a cold windy night they left the church
Es ist der Vater mit seinem Kind
It's the father with some kid
Er hat den Knaben wohl in dem Arm,
in a wool knobbly hat from army disposal
Er farht ihn sicher,es halt ihn warm
farting in secret to keep himself warm

"Mein Sohn,was birgst du so bang dein Gesicht?"
My son why are you binging and banging like a lunatic?
Seihst Vater, du den Erlkonig nicht?
Shoosh Father is the Erl Konig show on tonight?
Den Erlkonig mit Kron und Schweif?
You know Erl Konig with Kron and Shrek?
Mein Sohn,es ist ein Nebelstreif
My son are you out of your mind?

"Du liebes Kind,komm geh mit mir!
Leave that kid ,come and get over here
Gar schone Spiele, spiel' ich mit dir;
Dont give me that spiel,spiel gets clip over the ear
Manche bunte Blumen sind an dem Strand
Much better, Bloomin' kids send them to Boarding School
Meine Mutter hat manche gulden Gewand "
Blimey My Mother's hat has just won the Golden Globe Awards


ENGLISH TRANSLATION

Who rides so late through the night and the wind?
It's the father with his child
He has the boy safe in his arms
He holds him secure he holds him warm

"My son what makes you hide your face in fear?
Father don't you see the Erlking?
The Erlking with crown and flowing robe?
My son it's a wisp of fog"

"You dear child come along with me
Such lovely games I'll play with you;
Many colourful flowers are at the shore,
My mother has many a golden garment."

Read Write Poem Wordle 109

It is not simply a question
of shouldering herculean
responsibility for some spoilt
elitist student with a fertile
imagination indulging himself
in a stoned drawing
of beer froth and chicken thighs
and then calling it art
This working relationship is
coming asunder
I'm not enthusiastic about
being the brunt of
undergraduate foolishness

Dream A Little Dream Of Me

I heard this song sung by Mama Cass in a French movie of all things the other night...very laid back and sweet. Wrote a narration to go with the song for my little band of followers who are all freezing their bottoms off at the moment.If it's any consolation, summer here has been lousy.

Stars shining bright above you

(I wish...weather is lousy)

Night breezes seem to whisper I love you

(hardly...gale blowing last night)

Birds singing in the sycamore tree

(frozen feathered past moments)

Dream a little dream of me


Say nighty night and kiss me

(ok just a peck)

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me

(where are you going?)

While I'm alone and blue as can be

( all this rain is turning me into a blue vein mouldy cheese)

Dream A Little Dream of Me


Stars fading but I linger on dear

(that's me to a tee)

Still craving your kiss

(too old for that kind of caper)

I'm longing to linger til dawn dear

( far too late for me)

Just saying this


Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you

(that would be lovely)

Sweet Dreams that leave all worries behind you

( even better)

But in your dreams whatever they be

(You're always on my mind
Keep Warm!)

Dream a little dream of me

Poem # 6 Starting Over Mini Challenge

'Starting Over'

What's the choice
go backwards
stay in the rut or
roll forward
rollin'rollin'rollin'
keep them dawgies movin'
the herd has thinned out
there's only two of us left
little lonesome rangers
Cisco and Pancho
two loony tunes
stumbling over boulders
sipping gin and tonics
laughing hilariously
at Inspector Montelbano
having a moment in Sicily
staggering into the sunset
writing reams of elastic words
a few pearls but mostly destined
for the hot dollar shop
desperate to keep the drab at bay
blinkering out the ugliness
eyes focused on the ocean
forever starting over

Poem 5 Starting Over Mini Challenge

Memory in Blue

Gitanes dredge up old memory of cigarettes
blue pack and caramel smelling
with chestnuts roasted and coffee
tulips and cute gendarmes ever so
helpful to a girl with waist length hair in long
maxi coat big blue eyes and fingerless mittens

Gitanes will always be late grey afternoons
drinking pastis surreptitiously eyeing all the
cool and confident people but going back
alone to a cold peeling wall papered room in
Rue Monsieur le Prince because of shyness
and as her mother would say melancholia and nerves

Crepes Molyneux small bunches of violets
turkish toilets were all new to her
she loved it all and she loved it all too much
she had to start over somewhere else

Poem 4# Starting Over Mini Challenge

'Noisy Neighbour'

Vlad starts over and over again
every morning the same Chopin
etude except on Thursday when
the leaf blower man comes to do
the gardens

Pounding away pounding away
the same etude for weeks on end his huge form
overshadowing the terrified instrument
having its bones bashed on a daily basis
shaking the walls and foundations
the vodka bottles on the kitchen shelf
clinking like glockenspeils to the vibration

This rumbunctious Russian aint no Richter
Didn't Lenin put something about good manners
in the manifesto probably not I
think he was a bit of a pounder himself

Poem 3# Starting Over Mini Challenge

New Country
New Climate
New Customs
New Landscape
New Language
New Friends
Same Baggage

Poem 2# Starting Over Again Mini Challenge

There comes a time
when it's too late
to start over again
to begin again anew
with someone else
to have the energy
or interest in another's
life baggage and stories
to have to implement
another life regime of
a myriad details from straining
the orange juice to massaging
the hollow in the back of a neck
with two fingers
it takes twenty years to make a
tapestry with this type of cross stitching

Poem1# Starting Over Mini Challenge

Moving House

Gypsies are always starting over
armed with portable artwork that
folds and fits into hessian bags
Pots pans and boxes of books are stuffed
into painted coloured vans opulent with
rolled fabrics cushions and carpets just
like the bedouin tribesmen setting up
their tents in the desert
A rolling stone may gather no moss but
it doesn't gather barnacles or layers of scunge either

RWP 109 Wordle

It is not simply a question
of shouldering herculean
responsibility for some spoilt
elitist student with a fertile
imagination indulging himself
in a stoned drawing
of beer froth and chicken thighs
and then calling it art
This working relationship is
coming asunder
I'm not enthusiastic about
being the brunt of
undergraduate foolery

CHURCHILL DAFFODILS AND LIPSTICK

Read Write Poem 108
Prompt...random words from a music dictionary

The chord and the cadence
forming a string quartet with the
Busoni boys set sail
in a beautiful legato boat
in search of tierce de picardie
an island in the sonata sea

Inhabited mostly by poets and weavers
it was owned by Major 3rd who won it
in a poker game from his cousin crescendo
now diminuendo'd and rallentando'd
from too much vino and vivace


Musicians lived there exclusively once
but were exiled to the isle of apoggiatura
for creating dissonance too many disputes
between the neapolitan 2nds and the french 6ths

Appogiatura was run by Barbra Seville and Bessie May Mucho
two heavily made up mature mime artists with bee hive hairdos
who painted all the buildings daffodil yellow and lipstick pink
as a token of appreciation to Winston Churchill who provided
them with little luxuries during the war

There were constant complaints from neighbouring islands
because of noisy counter tenors and prestissimo partying
Barbra Seville and Bessie May Mucho were not fussed as long
as boat loads of daffodils and lipstick arrived regularly
from the mainland to boost morale

On reaching tierce de picardie
the cadential 6/4 quartet
sat on the beach hugged their fiddles
and played poco pizzicato watching
the fireworks shoot star bursts
from nearby appogiatura isle

All seemed well but the Busoni boys
secret party animals sub ponticello con brio
were already planning an escape
their violin cases crammed with tutti and brass
were eager to rendez vous with the gorgeous grace note girls
Candy Wrapper, Courtney Act and Fairy Moans

See you in Church (maybe not)

This poem is a response to the RWP 107 prompt

I used to live here
It was my sanctuary and home
with its polished floors
and arched windows
Lost my job
Got behind with the mortgage
Couldn't understand the fine print
The bank wouldn't reduce my payment
Wouldn't let me stay
Would rather have my home vandalised
as a punishment for bad luck and no
family back up

There were a lot of tears
I had to get rid of Toby
my best friend
my dog of ten years
no room at the inn
dogs not allowed
my heart ripped apart

I sometimes see my mortgage broker
driving his BMW on his way
to Church on Sunday
His children wear little
gold crosses and carry
pearl plated bibles
I don't go anymore

Pithos Pyxsis or Not

This is a bit of a mystery poem puzzle...but an easy one for lazy poets who will solve it in a nano second.It is based on RWP 107 prompt 'lighting the way'


The three Graces set sail from here
with Trust at the helm ages ago
the instant you did it

It was so serious that it shattered the
sun into blinding light bursts

You were moulded into a beauty
the world at your feet
nothing denied to you
except that one thing

But you couldn't resist it
Could you?
The only reason you wanted
to take that peek was because
you were told not to
You weren't even curious

All hell broke loose
as a result
and the rest of us paid
Every family has one
To think that
pampered felines are
still named after you

Loaves and Fishes

This is a coda to 'Camels and Needles'
and based on the RWP 107 prompt

Bring me my bow of burning gold
Bring me my arrows of desire
to pierce a few more memories
to add somes cans of beans to
a diminishing food pile

So where are you light of the world?
It is very dark here again with only
an occasional glimmer of gold
courtesy of the baroque bachangels
and mother nature

I've seen you sometimes hiding in the rockpools
in clouds and on the ocean floor
and sometimes in the amber eyes
of the marmalade boys
but time to face the music
It is comeuppance time for short memories
who ignore the warnings of the book and the past
Even mother nature is fed up
Everyone has forgotten what happens
when you put on your boxing gloves
and march into the ring

A Coda to Camels and Needles

Bring me my bow of burning gold

bring me my arrows of desire

to pierce a few more memories

to add some cans of beans to

a diminishing food pile

So where are you light of the world?

It is very dark here again with only

an occasional glimmer of gold

courtesy of the music angels and mother nature

I've seen you hiding in the rock pools

in clouds on the ocean floor and in the

amber eyes of the marmalade boys

The time is approaching for the

comeuppance of short memories

who ignore the warnings of the past

Even mother nature is fed up

They have forgotten what happens when you

put on your boxing gloves and march into the ring