For The Weekend

Haiku Heights..Happy New Year!

 

A Happy New Year
to everyone who comments
on my silly poems

Messy Artists...Messy Minds?

" Like an exotic bird she has spread her motifs  for her paintings all about her  in her magic cave of beguiling chaos"- Jeffrey Smart

 

Margaret Olley 1923 - 2011

 

Barry Pearce curator of the Art gallery of NSW believes the sublime jumble of of the artist's home resonates her personality, one which celebrates the ordinariness of daily life." Her paintings are a rejoicing of the moment and the shambolic nature of life. That is the gift she gives to us in her paintings. Every room in the house groans with dusty catalogues. Her clutter is becoming increasingly dangerous. There are now only tracks through to where she wants to go."

 

 

 

 

 

Francis Bacon's Studio South Kensington London

 

Margaret Olley's Paddington Studio. 

 

 

 

Margaret Olley at work in her Studio Paddington Sydney

Interview with Margaret Olley (  Excerpt )
 

" I would rather paint than cope with rubbish. You can spend your entire life cleaning the house ..I would rather do other things although I do have a cleaner who comes once a fortnight and all she does is the floors.."

Does she blanche when she walks in?

"No, she's Greek. She's very good!"

ROFL
Well I  guess I am never going to be famous if this type of mess is a prerequisite. My bourgeoise and religious hangups (cleanliness is next to Godliness")  are afflictions that I welcome and are appreciated by those I live with:)

Tumbledowns Puss - 3WW

Sad Puss In Search Of A Less Chaotic Study.
Window supported by Xavier Herbert's " Poor Fellow My Country"

i'm a tad sad little puss alone in the outback
surrounded by tedious textas pencils crammed packed
i'm a letter opener by skill and by trade
but the postman is long time dead buried in the shade

the house is full of creaks and groans
should have been detonated reduced to stones
no limbering up trees using claws as hooks
stuck in dusty study packed with heavy big  books

i will escape to the city and live in a flat
where I might meet expensive pens, interesting  sophisticats
who live in tidiness minimal elegance colour restrained
with air conditioning ,foxtel and a live in maid

We  all knew
it would be tough this year
Even all the yellow roses
candlelight and loveliness
Did not do the trick

It rained and stormed
yesterday for Christmas
A pall
shadowed the yuletide event
in spite of attempts at being jolly


It wasn't the weather

The sun is shining today
But the light is a little dimmer
without you Ruth

without your laughter
without your iced fruitcake
without your generosity
without your kindness

Did you have to be so nice!

For The Weekend

Haiku Heights

snow is sun's lover
melted by her loveliness
to a mere puddle

hey let's go skiing
Val d'isere on Christmas eve
see you there gorgeous

be my snow lover
i will bring the sunshine and
you can bring the booze

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL

Christmas - 3WW

 

an echo
of sadness
of hardship
reverberates
in the moment

the cold stable
wooden doors
creaking

animals
softly moaning
shuffling
in the straw

on this night
a love was born
that will haunt
the world forever

Haiku Heights

 

no one is at home

our wish has come true we can

keep all the presents

 

 

how can I tell her

these are the divorce papers

not her xmas wish

 

 

 

he was a mistake

i'm going to send him back

to the wish fairy

 

what will daddy say

i wish we had not seen this

mummy hates reindeers

 

 

who is this dreamboat

looks familiar i would say

on cosmo's wish list

Mark Lang

For The Weekend

The Road To Berry...3WW

Lloyd Rees
It had been years
since she took the
road to Berry
Her life had always
lead her relentlessly
North
never
South

Driving a borrowed
turbo charger winding
through the venus  mounds
made famous
 by Rees and Whitely




She streaked along
to her favourite music
Happy to be alive

Berry had changed
The world had caught up
No longer a sweet little village
its conference centres and
concrete excrescences were
an abnormal blight upon
its once peachy skin
with few remaining gems

At a little craft shop
she ordered a lavish treat
 a devonshire tea
settling in to daydream
and stare at the passersby
Not even the rude
thin lipped waitress
could spoil her nice day

Luxuriating in strawberry jam
and clotted cream scones
She looked up and saw it

The Sign
It said 863 kms to ...

A dark cloud crossed the sun
and suddenly a leaden sadness
dangled weighing down her eyelids
She wanted to crawl into bed
and stay submerged for several months

It was happening again


Brett Whitely

                      

Terra Firma

i wandered lonely
as a cloud being careful
not to touch the ground


you're living in the clouds
they said
not a good place for a person's head
you'll never fit in if you stay like that
you must be practical and matter of fact

grounded grounded grounded
was the ringing in my ears
grounded grounded grounded
or it's the valley of tears my dear

stuck in terra firma such an awful place to be
fixated  overrun with naval gazers
not star gazers or moon trippers are we
mean and petty vicious and trite
so much cruelty acting out of spite

misery was the morning song
interminable nights and the days
oh so long

 so I hopped back on the milky way
said goodbye and stayed that way
moon beam dancing in the clouds
will return to earth for my burial
in a shroud

For The Weekend

A Quatern Message In A Bottle

She sat looking out to the sea
Espied a wine bottle with glee
An expensive one bought from a store
Washed up and in tact to the shore

The letter the colour of tea
She sat looking out to the sea
The printing was old and quite feint
An elegant script with a taint

Feeling so sad and quite proper
Forced it back in with a stopper
She sat looking out to the sea
T' was a lover's ode to cherie

Floating it back out on the wave
Bobbing ebbing to a shell cave
For someone who wants it not me
She sat looking out to the sea

whine that splinters glass
she is the end of the world
a slick welsh blow in

fake sincerity
delivered with earnestness
lies - second nature

a redhead's revenge
instigates a coup d'etat
laughs then nicks the crown

a nation swindled
her house of cards will topple
writing on the wall

next election - out
the end of her world is nigh
back to union crims

Dame Elizabeth Murdoch 1909 - 2012

She had been a widow for sixty years
The gorgeous brave 'babe with arms'
who followed her heart at 19
for a much older man
Her love for her husband
gave her strength
every day of her long life

Compassionate kind generous
intelligent humorous humble
and irresistibly charming
a great great Grandmother
with 73 direct descendants
who occasionally
" took the slipper"
to her very famous son.

A modern day Saint
A refined lovely woman
not without
A cheeky twinkle with the faintest hint
of Aussie irreverence

Our revered philanthropist
Champion of the Arts and
Angel to our sick children

Dame Elizabeth Murdoch
You will be missed
Our nation will mourn you
R. I. P.

Dverse Three Word Wednesday

with the flood
the harvest
turned to mushy fluid
the battle for survival
begins

reap what you sow
we did that
didn't work out

do unto to others
as you would have them
do unto you
we did that too
didn't work out either

For the Weekend...Secret Confessions

i miss being young
some teenage dreamers never
 grow up completely

i should be ashamed
at watching this sugar frost
crap but i love it

turning my nose up
sneering at the ordin'ry
in secret i'm one

i still do the moves
the singing with the hairbrush
i'm a star star star

i hide kierkegaard
in case they think i'm a nerd
which i also am

Haiku Heights

 

thunder clouds rumble

eyes flash lightning bolts of pain 

hell hath no fury

 

like a woman scorned

the thick black sky bursts apart

unleashing demons

If  I faint
will you prod me
with a clenched fist
tell me to get back
on track and how
others do it
much tougher than I

Is this an omen
Or am I having a Gauguin
moment with pink sand blood sea
and green sky
What colour is grief?

the season of advent
preparations for
His birthday
are in motion

the big day when thousands
of turkeys puds and mince pies
are washed down
with a flood of champagne
to the rhythm of popping corks

in celebration of

the Birthday Boy
who was born
 in a freezing stable
warmed by the steam
of  animal dung


the significance
of His birth
lost
in a sea
of secularism

just another excuse
for another party

CHRISTMAS MOVIES

If you are like China and me you will probably have a binge during the Christmas Holiday period
of ' feel good ' movies.  I am going to list my favourites. I would  appreciate your suggestions of some of your favourites as we have been watching the same ones for yonks. Thanks.

Last Chance Harvey

Holiday

Love Actually

Under The Tuscan Sun

Eat Pray Love

The Duchess

The Devil Wears Prada

Hideous Kinky

84 Charing Cross Road

Notting Hill

Home Alone

Haiku Heights

" Last Chance Harvey "

too  much suffering
life without love  and caring
is a harsh desert

sometimes things work out
for people like Harvey Shine
a sweetheart appears

For The Weekend

3WW

the motion was defeated
no women bishops
voted the Synod
a decision accepted
sadly but peacefully
vision for the future
in question for the
Church Of England

COCKTAIL QUIZ FOR POETS

 

AND THE WINNER IS JUDITH WESTERFIELD!

 

a smart dog named max

found a sweet bright blue princess

to do his bidding

judith his muse and teacher

taught him how to drink cocktails

 

 

 

 

                                                

                                                                                                 Hound of the  Baskervilles 

                                                                                               aka     MAX

                                                                                                     

 

 

I am running a cocktail quiz.

 

The winner who can name the cocktail will have a short poem dedicated to them in a  short form of their choice. If  no one is successful I will continue running the competition until I have drunk my way through the entire cocktail menu repertoire.

Any requests for clues must be in the haiku form 5 7 5

For The Weekend - Haiku Heights

waving legs and arms
greeks like  tree branches swaying
to down under tunes

a surreal sight
lots of giggles and laughter
go for it wog boys

Sugar Power Puffs WIn

one needs
to stretch
endurance
in the cause
of survival
kill or be killed
is implicit
in understanding
the jungle of life


genghis
was good at it
ivan
was good at it
sweet thing
butter wouldn't
melt in her mouth
is better
than both of them

the rest
of the poor sods

tarantella
their way
expertly ducking
and weaving
through jackboots
with the occasional
kick to the head

Haiku Heights

the sound of silence
respite from traffic and noise
just bird song and bush

no humans around
just ancient dinosaur prints
and acres of sky

Dilemma

compromise
difficult
conundrum

you're damned if you do
you're damned if you don't

la balance
weighing everything up
with meticulous precision
to make the right
decision
to find
the best way forward

defeated

i don't know
have never known
will ever know

anything

For The Weekend

For Jaerose / Haiku Heights

it's in his nature
to be a wild free spirit
unconventional

the school girls love him
but is that so important
for education

a good connection
versus old school discipline
good connection wins

the kids are happy
that is all that really counts
ignorance is bliss

they are ignorant
of history,cannot spell
so who cares, bad luck

childcentric living
a twenty first century
way of the good life

psychiatrists laugh
hauling in the great profits
from a world gone mad

Mr Chips 21st Century

his sallow complexion
matched his vest
his teeth
his own..not false
ubermensch
cool
illustrating
new education
a few flawed concepts
with creative spelling

Rollin' On

just a gypsy gal
existing from day to day
keeps on tryin' on

For The Weekend

Haiku Heights

The Chelmsford Hanging Of Witches 1566

 

 

the chelmsford hangings

first witches hung in England

sad day for women

 

a cat named satan

was enough to condemn you

it's a cruel world

 

 

labour dedication discipline
all needed to pack these notes
neatly into little semi quaver passages

scary being a dangled exhibit
in front of an audience
if it works out they applaud
if it doesn't they still do

Upgrade

roads that are old
deteriorated
been around for too long
have a use by date
are destined for an upgrade

Woody Allen
Jack Nicholson
Rupert Murdoch
Kevin Kostner
Keith Richards
Mick Jagger
think so too

Charles doesn't

he dynamites
new roads
replaces them
with old ones

Haiku Heights

somewhat self conscious
brave pineapple bird competes
in cockatoo land

Thank you
Miss you
Love you

Thank Heaven For Silly Gels

I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar
When I first met you
You picked me up shook me rattled my head around
Turned me into something new

Not so calm and flustered you are begging me now
That much I know is true
Smooth tres cool and tricky operational dude
Turned out to be a fool

Don't You Want Me Baby
NO
Don't You Want Me Ohhh

Don't You Want Me Baby
YES
Don't You Want me Ohhh

Every Home Should Have One

her greatest fear
was being without him

she cherished
more than anything else
the comfort of that
touch awakening her
from a nightmare
a hand on a fevered brow
when sick
snuggling into his back
on a cold night
her tearful anxieties expressed at 2 am
to a patient kind ear
the only person who
had ever been on her side

without that irreplaceable connection
her loneliness would
have been crippling
life would have seemed
futile
just marking time hoping
for a quick and merciful release

Gemini

a shroud of silence
he kept things close to his chest
gave nothing away

Jalan Legian

In memoriam for those victims of the Bali Bombing 12/10/2002

i walk past it every day
hard to believe their cruel ways
i will stay here come what may

Three Word Wednesday

miserable
streaming eyes
bathed in sweat
drowned in fumes
of eucalyptus oil
a brisk wind
blowing outside
a cold snap
barking cough
crackling wheeze
exotic viral invasion
detached and resistant
to modern meds
still no match for
my china's chilli chicken soup
guaranteed to nuclear zap
everything in its path

Haiku Heights

home is where we are
a couple of cool gypsies
wand'ring the planet

B B Homemaker Stars in Post Modern Prose Poem

rub a dub dub
scrubbing the tub
repairing the car
firing up the chicken
drinking martinis
reading novels
ok i can't do any more than this i will make a sign and crash tackle him with a pair of garden shears when he gets home and force him to give me an answer in writing on a blackboard so i can take it to my myopic lawyer along with footage of the distress he has caused me ruining my makeup turning me into a drunk,now i wear gawdy rings shop at sexy lingerie stores by refusing to get me a houseboy i have to crawl around myself in skimpy knickers on the bedroom carpet looking for my car keys and private notes that i write to myself in invisible ink blinded by thick runny mascara choking on the burning and fumes coming from the kitchen he knew i wanted a flamingo park just a small one all i wanted was everything i wanted in matching shades of pink fur
i cry
i drink
i smoke
i'm just a slave
all i wanted
was everything
and by next week
i probably will
get it

3WW

she
ripe with toxin
set on a course
of destruction
wounding and maiming
lacerating her dignity
her misery and hatred
as black as the night

At first they indulged
in bouts of banter
with a strong element
of flirtation

Then the direction changed
into something a little more serious
Duty and morality emblazoned
on both consciences
brought this galloping dalliance
to a halt suddenly in a cloud of dust

Now that it has settled
and the waters are as still
as a mill pond
all memory of it has faded
with just ripples from the wind
time to time

the need to create
subversively
view life in technicolour
may seem anti social
and unhinged
on trains the consequences
can be lethal
i died for my art

For The Weekend

chuckles in bright pink
codpieces make a come back
temptations tight suits

Sunday Scribbling

i understand music
i understand literature
i understand art
i understand french
i understand recycling building materials
i understand latin
i understand embroidery
i understand plumbing
i understand cooking
i understand linguistics
i understand permaculture
i even understand some
mysteries of religion
i understand biology
i understand botany
i understand greek and roman
mythology
but i can never understand
why people are such shits!

PS
i also do not understand
how to link poems

Haiku Heights

it is the last day
no more attempts at haiku
ah free free at last

footloose fancy free
i want to be somewhere else
for a little while

i'm free as the breeze
to blow puffs of clouds across
the vast night blue sky

a free lunch you say
no such thing everyone knows
you pay and you pay

Too Late

i don't know why
they say
it's never too late

once the door is closed
it stays shut forever

nothing can entice me
to take a chance
with you
again

the intense hurt
undergone for so long
obliterates all feeling

i savour the numbness
of peace that remains

there was a time when
i would have died
for that display of affection
you proffered tonight

not now..nothing
you are too late

Haiku Heights

it is my birthday
in october a libran
to my very core

birthdays mean nothing
i'm just glad to be alive
and still boogyin

For The Weekend

i think of you
my black orpheus
your melody
will stay with me

Solitude

you are quite alone
no one's coming to save you
face it and perish

Pale Shine

the sun lies lower
in the northern skies

you can nestle
in my heart for a time
if you like

there is no absolute
that says you have to remain
here after fall

though it would be nice to spend
a winter with you

Haiku in Excess

a free lunch you say
no such thing everyone knows
you pay and you pay


war of the sexes
marriage is a battlefield
the winner takes all


themes waltz in my head
madrigals quartets and fugues
no need for ipod

my mother has left
her footprint,her deep sadness
her acerbic wit


they play in the lane
with paper boats and rubbish
perfectly happy

sleep deep in velvet
delicious afternoon nap
lace curtains slight breeze

love in the tropics
God why did i come back here
yes well i know why

it's a paradox
that she has a good man but
wants a bad bounder

i don't know this bird
a hummingbird is foreign
to me and my galahs

the butt of all jokes
my brilliant eccentric friend
is a great success

his friends take the train
every morning and don't laugh
so much anymore

all my deeds for God
the heading on every page
a catholic girls school

vivaldi is divine
gloria gloria in
excelsis deo


those lights were so lovely
i would stare at them for hours
when all were asleep

magic of childhood
i knew i would get there and
i did i sure did

i come from the sea
my people are islanders
we're all good swimmers

i would rather starve
than have a job with a boss
not a team player

meadow is a word
too posh and snooty for us
i love it-meadow

grass is much greener
in the paddock down yonder
so is the farmer

complex universe
the creator is a tease
making these puzzles


he was raised to lie
truth was a revelation
both parents lawyers


i tap my baton
the symphony orchestra
is under my spell

the smell of rain
plops on the hot bitumen
sizzle steam and splash

he was so divine
i fell for him oh so hard
right flat on my face

he kept on walking
forgot to step over me
a door mat special


i love pepper trees
pinked pungent pods firm and smooth
home to mosquitoes

gloss'd sour green ringlets
shiny hair of Shakespeare's plays
midsummer night's dream


insensitive folk
have cement rendered psyches
indestructible

my mind is agile
mental leap frogging about
rebel with a cause

i lie on a bench
staring at the milky way
touching it with hands

i am leaving you
land of the big skies for
i've found another

i've said this before
cried wolf far too many times
you don't believe me


we don't have autumn
just varied degrees of heat
hot and not so hot

i remember leaves
crunchy russet and gold brown
a long time ago

it is full moon time
more ceremonies, dogs howl
alas i do too


a poet's burden
always alone in the crowd
watching and listening

september the 3rd
i forget most years but this
year i remember

it has been so long
since you were here with us all
happy birthday love


sunday coloured pink
a glorious day driving
in the lush tropics

God has used this place
as a living art canvas
splotched with gorgeousness

red purple and pink
galungan festivites
rich in tradition.

stendahl

uffizi florence
a drawbridge to genius
head reeling sigh faint

stockholm

drawbridge to freedom
pretend you're so much in love
with your kidnapper

gourmand

it's second nature
passion for fine food drawbridge
to empty wallet

sexsomnia

i did it asleep
i was dead as a dodo
yeah sure says the judge

LEAP IN LOGIC

A Suitable Case for Treatment

she said he was mad for her
i said has he asked you out
she said he was too shy
why don't you ask him
i have he just laughed
he is not free anyway
do you have an expectation
that he will love you from afar
yes she said
isn't he having an affair
with the PR girl
yes but he really loves me
how do you know
the way he looks at me

Aliens

little aliens
nattering away like birds
no lie in today

in alien land
i am an alien less
so than in my own

i am a christian
amongst moslems and hindus
a cultural feat

i'm more comfortable
in this environment than
in my own culture

Que reste-t-il de nos amours

It's Raining Men

the drought has broken
it's raining men hallelujah
spring is on its way

eye candy for gals
who like to admire muscles
biceps brawn and brain

amuse and excite
imagination even
if it's not sincere

quite a nice feeling
when somebody loves you if
only for a while

Haiku Heights

what is going on
behind the green door i say
oh shenanigans

absinthe is pale green
tastes like lethal creme de menthe
flame thrower in mouth

green is for irish
kiss the blarney stone get drunk
on st.patrick's day

sour green ringlets
a great line from Will Shakespeare
whom i love dearly

she,green with envy
set about destroying me
by emulation

sadly green is me
always trusting believing
loving wrong people

Om Swastiastu...Ayu Arya Nusandari 7 years old Balinese Musician

Pussy Power

3WW...beat pressure substance

puss
being a clever creetcha
of substance
and creativity
overwhelmed by
peer pressure
to conform
worked out
a way
to beat the system
and survive