Happy Belated Birthday

i missed your birthday
again this year


hope
you indulged yourself
in splendid decadence
for the day
wine  and bubble bath
gateau coco au lait





to make amends
i should jump out of a cake
a surprise you may like
from an aussie  chick mate




but the weather is cold
and i'm getting too old
for these juvenile capers
well so i've been told






i could get your neighbour
miss betty b bloop
to sing your signature song
' let me jump through your hoops '

but your hearing is shot
has been  for so long
besides
miss betty b bloop
does not like men
who wear thongs

i know you like birds
but not kept in cages
you've been
bird watching next door
for ages and ages




as i can't think of things
you would  like or excite
have ransacked my brain
the bulb's dim wont light

so i guess that leaves roses
deep red and with thorns
please accept them 
as a gift for the day
you were born








Midweek Motif _ Poets United

Baby It's Cold Outside

it's freezing and grey
unused to this cold
where is my overcoat
scarf and warm stole



Blue Mountains ( one hour from Sydney)

i can't find my gloves
i can't find my hat
i've not worn these things
for light years - in fact


it's nice to know
lady gaga can read
but tony bennet
is a bit more my speed

these ancient crooners
brush up so well
and if they can sing
will still cast a  spell


Sydney Winter June 2016

the ice man cometh
the ice age is here
we're all whinging
about the cold
with fear down here





our weather is all about
electric blue skies
we don't like the cold
we don't like the grey
these climate extremes
aren't going away

Haiku Horizons

music dries away
the tears of the mind beaming
sunshine into the soul



i know sweetie
the sound of the can opener
is music to your ears



musical giggles
a glissando of silver
from a lovely child

a future critic
a poetry reviewer
great sense of humour

Blue Lagoons For The Weekend

waiting at the pub
for a lift home
on this cold  clear
pale yellow winter's afternoon
'benny and the jets' filters through
the last of the late dusk light

a corner of my heart splinters

i remember
two  young people
drinking blue lagoons
at this very table
all those years ago

it is so sad
the unravelling of these two
each flattened
by the rogue waves of life

i order one




from a fledgling barman
affecting
a pair of quizzical eyebrows
like question marks
obviously
has no idea what i am talking about

The Resilient

life
is precarious enough
for everyone

but
for those perceived
as towers of strength
the courageous
the strong
the ones who make things alright
when everything goes awry

the door
the stranger instinctively
knocks on out of 100
when help is wanted

i feel for them

and their solitary struggle
these marvels of generosity
drained and never repleted

don't be fooled by the umbrella
tiptoe dancing through the clouds
their world is not mary poppins

and in spite of
the numerous affirmations
nowadays
that no one is alone
help is always at hand
these tight rope dancers
with no safety nets
find themselves
battling the storms alone

when they are born
their  guardian angels
still disappointed
by lot's wife's performance
imprint a set of instructions
on their newborn brains
to give them a chance
of survival

never look back
keep going
keep going
keep going
no matter what

they do
i've known them
i walk in their shadows
never being able
to walk in their shoes

Midweek Motif - Poets United

Haiku Horizons

someone must have it
maybe it's lying at the
bottom of the sea

Sunday Scribblings 2

Je suis ' cracked'


 

je ne suis pas noted for my giant intellect
but I know how to make loads of money
which makes me smarter than the pope






i am not interested in camels or
eye of the needle smart arsed  comments





when i am the president these subversive religious
texts and their anti trump jokes will be banned





every american should own a gun
to shoot the bad foreign guys
just like in the movies







 

trump is the only one who knows santa claus
is secretly an islamic collaborator








he was born in america
his hair was born in a foreign land
of rapists and murderers
who don't speak american






when he erects a wall his hair
is going to have learn to face climb
strand by strand to reach him

For The Weekend

POETIC GEMS

WINTER IS COMING



The suns' trajectory has shortened,
Now that his chariot has run a course
Much closer to the horizon.
The night is quicker to claim
The earth as her realm
And the moon barks orders
At the brilliant ( but oh, so cold ) stars.

The wind howls at night
And even the wild dogs are tamed
Becoming silent in obeisance.
Rain comes and falls, and fails
To tether the wind who takes each drop
And spins it into long liquid streams
Until they fall like waving sheets.

The cold freezes puddles solid
And no leaves, no fruits no flowers
Survive the blizzard cruel
And even colder still, inside,
My heart keeps on beating,
Gelid though it may be
To keep me alive, me who has died.

Like Summer , you have left me
And unlike Autumn you've given me
No ripe fruits , no grain , no berries.
My crop was poisoned by bitter tears,
Endless regrets, false promises, nightmares;
My Winter's deep, bleak and long - lasting
Expecting no Spring's arrival.

Nicholas V 
Intelliblog.
nicholasjv@blogspot.com

A lot of the blogging poets will be familiar with Nick's stunning poems. His blog is definitely worth a visit. Just noticed that he has had over five million views. It is a smorgasbord of  beautiful poetry, movies, gardening, classical music, visual art, cooking and photography. Nick could be categorised as a Renaissance man,  a sort of Melbourne Leonardo da Vinci  ( no not Leonardo di Caprio :)
The thinking person's dream.
( sorry, I am yielding to my poetic propensities here:) Anyway , he is a very talented Aussie also excelling in Greek dancing, drinking copious amounts of ouzo and smashing plates .
Yep, that's right, he is Grik ! Yassou !

Wind Surfing

like giant butterflies 
skimming over the waves
powered by the wind

big boofy blokes
ballet dancers of the sea
cut a swathe through the ocean

superb to watch
only two weeks into winter
summer sunshine sizzlers
cannot return quickly enough
ten weeks to go - who's counting?
i am

Midweek Motif - PU

Carpe Diem # 975 Denmark

aussie chick lands a prince
met him in a sydney bar
denmark's good fortune




lovely family
a viking prince finds his
antipodean princess

The Sleeping Greek

The Sleeping Greek
William Dobell

kidnapped by turks on a beach
a young boy enslaved to sponge dive
escapes and joins the navy

who knows what he dreams
when he drifts off to sleep
lungs stronger than walls
a heart  that could melt icarus
the spume and sea in his veins


Carpe Diem # 974 Cyprus

Limmericks

he said aussie chicks were all coarse
only good for riding a horse
but a lot speak french
and know how to fence
brainy bush sophisticates of course




she works all day on the farm
exuding a rural charm
her hands get so dirty
there's no time for flirty
o shearers don't be alarmed




our barnaby's thick as a brick
a bush boy straight from the sticks
loathes johnny depp's poodles
film stars canoodles
the deputy leader's a hick







B& Ps Shadorma and Beyond
MLMM

Guerilla Artist

i remember recoiling
at that bleak ugly
little railway station
macdonaldtown

i also remember
being elated
at the news story

not only had you
painted it hot pink
but added a potted red geranium
table and chairs
at your own expense



i never saw it
but i imagine it could have
looked like this

the magistrate did not record
a conviction
you were enhancing
an eyesore performing a type
of community service makeover

the SRA lost its appeal against you

they repainted the station
a standardised baby shit brown
post haste

i never knew who you were
i still remember your story
you were a student back then

you are probably
a balding accountant now
working
in a suburban practice

i wish you well

For The Weekend

heard
this afternoon
in the doctor's surgery
tears start to roll
i drop my bag
out falls my little orange journal
the words spill out on to the carpet
i gather everything up
leave
am off to buy a parka
big enough to wrap around the two of us
to keep out the cold

Sad Coda

all we like sheep
have gone astray
we have turned
everyone 
to his own way

a commitment
of free choice
one might say

the sombre strains
of  terrible finality
etched
in a coda of despair
ring clear
like
a heart fettered
by a will so strong
once the doors close
they can never
be reopened

and with time
what was
fades
falls
forgotten
into the abyss

Midweek Motif Poets United






 

Wet Monday

Walt Withers





doors slam
as they clickety clack
officiously
in corporate clothing
off to work

quiet now
they've all gone
the rain drizzles softly
down the window

i turn off the phone
sip a steaming coffee
think about changing
the water in the carnations
at some later stage

luxuriate
(sigh)
in this perfect moment
of pink bliss and perfume bottles
under a big fur rug
nodding off

Carpe Diem Haiku Kai

 chambre a coucher


une vraie francaise
has an eye for beauty
creates it everywhere

For The Weekend

o my love my darling
it's been a long time
since your atomic bomb drop
in the olive grove
from the safety
of a telephone

washing on the line
still remains there
the trees curled and cried
their grey leaves turned inwards
the fruit drops to the ground
the parrots wont touch them

no living thing
not even
the tawny frogmouth
will venture
into  dead man's territory
again

Kerry's 55 Flash Plus..Imaginary Garden
Poets Pantry...PU




'

Sunday Scribblings 2

seven dwarves - no way
i'm only interested in
6' 3" neanderthals
(no beards thanks:)

Thoughts On Parenthood

hard to believe
this was the situation
more than
two thousand years ago




how do you tell the kids
what a normal family is?
not us anyway




grandpa was
the most beautiful man
i have ever known
my grandmother
thought so too




conditional love
there has to be some pay off
in having children




mum's pregnant again
dad threatens to drown himself
in the harbour


no one from my lot
has ever raised teenagers
straight to boarding school



true, so don't complain
if you don't like what you see
they learn it somewhere




what makes a good parent
someone you admire and respect
the child makes the call
the child decides
if they like the way
they were raised



Midweek Motif PU