Troiku

butterflies and birds
restlessly they rise up
a cloud of flowers

Basho

Carpe Diem Haiku Kai

butterflies and birds
birds and the bees time for
a little chat

restlessly they rise up
hormones pumping youth
champing at the bit






a cloud of flowers
descends as a halo when
they discover love

Haiku Horizons

between heart beats
a small bird struggles
not to fly away

Homeless

Sunday Scribblings 2
Carpe Diem Haiku Kai

we walk on by without compassion
we accept it as part of the landscape
or get the council to move them on
eyesores not welcome here

never thinking
therefore but for the grace of God
go i
never thinking
so many of these eyesores
fell by the wayside through
no fault of their own

our consumerism
wicked waste
heartlessness
greed
will destroy us
we deserve it

how many times
can the phoenix keep on rising
from the ashes

Wedding Dance

B & Ps Shadorma and Beyond ...MLMM
Midweek Motif PU

need love and healing?
marry an indian
enjoy a wedding spectacular
with wild exotic colour

fiery energy pulsates
in throbbing rhythm and dance
enough to spark
any wizened stone fossil





flashing of bangles luminescent silk saris
pink turbans  fire and magic
dark eyes smouldering with secrets
always a constant source of fascination





india
just teeming with life
colourful
honking cars
industrial strength passion 
on every corner

For The Weekend

Sunday Whirligig

dirty dancing balcony railing apartments shining
brick window horses poems luxury sing

wild horses could not stop him
singing along to the ska band

there he was
a shining poem in motion
dirty dancing on the balcony
of  the old brick block of flats

the neighbours peering out
from windows in consternation
from their luxury apartments
feared he would topple
over the dodgy railing
lowering the tone even further

Choice And Conditioning

Midweek Motif PU




today
a working day

i choose
to turn off the phone
stay in bed
sleep late
write this poem
drink hot chocolate
watch a movie
cuddle my marmalade mohair boy
chain saw purring so loudly
i'm forced to read the subtitles

the gale force wind howls
rattles the old windows
bending the tree tops
a good day to be indoors

a twinge of guilt emerges
remnants of life long conditioning
pointing its accusatory finger at me








i poke it back into its suitcase
sink back into the pillows
remind myself
it is unlikely i will be fired

i sleep with the boss

Sunday Afternoon

 B&P Shadorma and Beyond MLMM

Shadorma

still wintry
view from the car park
took a pic

just shopping
always running out of things
funding the food chains

Saturday Afternoon

B& P Shadorma and Beyond MLMM
Shadorma

a couple
working on the rocks
painting pics

great to see
water colour paints in hand
not beer cans

Haiku Horizons

after you left
it was never the same - you're back
but i still miss you

Carpe Diem Haiku Kai

they all look the same
navigating by the  stars
alone and lost at sea

For The Weekend

Paradise Gained

Sunday Scribblings 2

the bell tolls
for tony abbott
finally

malcolm turnbull has won
the jewel in the crown
every crook'd little finger's dream
is to become prime minister

all those years of plotting
and scheming paid off
paradise gained
for a minute

personal advancement
rather than
political conviction
public service?
what's that?
something they do
at the post office ?

now what next?
enough is never enough
is it malcolm?
kerry packer quipped
to a friend once
he even frightens me
never stand between malcolm 
and a bag of money

meanwhile the homeless
still sleep outside the library
and under the benches in the shopping mall
in his electorate

Down Mexico Way

" Let me put it this way..I wont be going to Mexico"



3WW
presidential candidate
pig ignorant with bad hair
spouting haphazard  laboured drivel
in an attempt to debate
spewing
noxious racism and misogyny
and we thought we had problems
well, we do, but no - one as bad as this

Trollius and Trellises by Charles Bukowski

Of course, I may die in the next ten minutes
and I'm ready for that
but what I'm really worried about is
that my editor - publisher might retire
even though he is ten years younger than
I.

it was just 25 years ago (i was at the ripe old age
of 45)
when we began our unholy alliance to
test the literary waters
neither of us being much
known

I think we had some luck and still had some
of same
yet
the odds are pretty fair
that he will opt for warm and pleasant 
afternoons
in the garden
long before I

writing is its own intoxication
while publishing and editing
attempting to collect bills
carries its own attrition
which also includes dealing with bitchings and demands
of many
so - called genius darlings who are
not

I wont blame him for getting
 out
and hope he sends me photos of his
Rose Lane, his
Gardenia ave

will I have to seek other
promulgators?
that fellow in the Russian
fur hat?
or that beast in the East
with all that hair
in his ears, with those wet and
greasy lips

or will my editor - publisher
upon exiting for that world of Trollius and
trellis
hand over the
machinery
of his former trade to a
cousin a
daughter or
Some Poundian from Big
Sur

or will he just pass the legacy on
to the
Shipping Clerk
who will rise like
Lazarus,
fingering new found importance

one can imagine terrible
things:
" Mr Chinaski, all your work
must now be submitted in
Rondo form
and
typed
triple - spaced on rice
paper "

power corrupts
life aborts
and all you
have left
is a
bunch of
warts


"no no Mr Chinaski
Rondo form !"

"haven't you heard of the thirties?"

" the thirties? what's that?" 

My present editor - publisher
and I
at times
did discuss the thirties
the Depression
and
some of the little tricks it
taught us -
like how to endure on almost
nothing
and move forward
anyhow

well, John, if it happens enjoy your
divertissement to
plant husbandry
cultivate and erate between
bushes water only in the
early morning, spread
shredding to discourage
weed growth
and as I do in my writing
use plenty of
manure

and thank you
for locating me there at
5142 DeLongpre Avenue
somewhere between alcoholism and
madness

together we
laid down the gauntlet
and there are takers
even at this late date
still to be found
as the fire sings
through the
trees




 

Erasure Poem

B & P's Shadorma And Beyond....MLMM

Erasure Poem : Trollius And Trellises by Charles Bukowski
( written in the above post )




of course, i may die in the next ten minutes
i'm really worried
he is ten year younger than
i

we began our unholy alliance
to test the waters
neither of us had luck

the odds are
he will opt for
warm and pleasant afternoons
long before i

dealing with petty bitchings and demands
darlings
i wont blame him for getting out
hope he sends me photos of his
rose lane


will i have to seek that fellow
in the russian fur hat
with the wet and greasy lips
or
some poundian from big sur

one can imagine terrible things
mr chinaski  triple -spaced
rice paper and a bunch of warts
"no no "

move forward anyhow john
enjoy your divertissement
thank you for locating me
there somewhere

together
we laid down the gauntlet
and even at this late date
still
the fire sings through the trees

Sad Sad World

Haiku Horizons

before they had homes
now they have nothing 
no one wants them







before and after
gilding the lovely lily
sad sad world

For The Weekend

3WW...glimmer , impartial, fateful

In memory of Ruth

only a glimmer peeps through
the pall cast by her absence
since that fateful night 2012

who can be impartial
when it comes to laying  blame
all i know is
aint no sunshine since she's gone

Boredom

Midweek Motif PU

the perennial child sees
sheep in the sky
horses in the waves
the chinaman in the peanut
madame poire's big bottom



faces in the branches
palm fronds dancing
ladies purses in the garden



kites in love
sail boats in the puddle
the shark in the bath

boredom
a lack of vivid 
imagination

sometimes
a welcome respite from
a world of  adventures

The Southern Cross

bright and distinct
at the bottom of the world
the southern cross

carpe diem haiku kai



the saucepan
boils over spills into
the milky way

Haiku Horizons

a floating message
not always good news
on a desert island

Carpe Diem Haiku Kai

evening
our paddles drip into
liquid sunset

Ruth Yarrow

harbour sunset
a lone paddle surfer
wends his way home

Canzone

B&P's Shadorma and Beyond
Mindlovemisery's Menagerie

escaping with family and friends
woohoo...made it..someone lent a hand
she reads about it in newspapers and books
seizes with relish the page
brotherly love..not part of her life experience
there must be good and true friends
who offer  a helping hand
can't be just fiction in the bible or best seller books
words making money on a page
there must be some upholding the christian ethic experience

she knows of one who will hold her hand
share her intense thoughts and good books
reads and knows her page by page
together they trudge through life experience
stumbling soul mates a great support and true friend
when her world tumbles he will extend a hand
she learnt both truth and lies  abound in books
she will rarely be on anyone's  page
concluding, that worth seeking, is a quality aesthetic life experience
rather than materialism and  a chart topping catalogue of faux friends

will the refugees continue to have all these good friends
opening borders joined in a sea of extending helpful hands?
their plight will sell a lot of newspaper photos and books
political footballs,  just commodities selling news, profitable words on a page
momentarily pin pricking  consciences...that's her experience, life experience

Georgia's Canzone..

 When the messenger arrives
Carrying his heavy missive
Who will hold my hand as I cry,
Knowing then, you are no more
For my life will have no more meaning?
What will I do when the message arrives?
How can I read that woeful missive,
How many tears must I then cry …
Until my tears are no more
Giving sadness a new meaning?

Yet you say there will be no missive
No sad tidings for which to cry
Just joyous news from you and no more
Giving new verve and meaning
To our love, when it arrives.
How I long for that glad missive
And with happiness would I cry …
For on that day to fear no more,
The sadness and loss of meaning,
If the report of your death arrives.

No matter what news arrives
This day of love will be our eternal missive.
Why cover my head in ashes and cry
I’ll think of a sad future no more
This night will fill me with new meaning!

© G.s.k. ‘15

FOR
B& Ps Beyond Shadorma...Mindlovemisery's Menagerie

Mama Mia

B &P's Shadorma and Beyond MLMM


too late now
up up and away
get a grip

be brave now
fear of flying is common
with malaysian air
                                w
                           a

                         y

                                 s

                        

Tracks

Tracks...Robyn Davidson

Sunday Scribblings 2

young beautiful and restless
she decided to walk her camels
3000 miles
across the great gibson desert
to the indian ocean

the photographer
drove a thousand miles
out of his way to
leave her notes and water
at points along the way

she never did disclose
what was in those notes

no need to
looking at the photo
the chemistry flies off the page
burning holes in the ozone

For The Weekend

Elastic Time

3WW...deeply elastic amusing

deeply engrossed
in an amusing book
time contracts

TUBBY THE TUBA

Mid Week Motif  PU


she first saw this in a cinema
a tiny tot seated on her mother's lap

hearing tubby's sad tune
a  wave of wonder washed over her

from that moment her life - fuzzy and blurred
like overhearing muted conversations
from another room became sharply defined

tiny tot began to witness the world about her
with eyes and ears unzipped
tubby's tune had unleashed an artist early

the journey began right there
in that cinema
thank you mummy
(happy birthday  darling)

EPILOGUE

and No
she did not emerge
as a tuba player LOL

Spring

it's spring again
after a long cold spell
pack the winter woollies away
bring out the fresh cotton dresses

plant the window box with polyanthus
give the pelargoniums a haircut
walk in the gardens bask in the sunshine
wait for the mangoes to ripen

fill the place with flowers
crack open a bottle of  bubbly
celebrate renewal and hope
give thanks give smiles


end of northern summer
your autumn becomes our spring
topsy turvey world

carpe diem haiku kai



in spring time
the only pretty ring time
when birds do sing
hey ding a ding a ding
hey ding a ding a ding
hey ding a ding a ding
sweet lovers love the spring