When I was a kid,
I took a job
working the iron ore mines
in far north west Australia

only criminals
or men on the run for other reasons
worked there then

and me
a bourgeois kid
18

my first night in town
I was rescued from serial rapists
the welcoming committee

Dave Mason,
who rescued me
I saw beaten to a bloody pulp
my last night in town
while I was held by the throat
above the ground
to witness

But

ink forming into words
in
the back of my head.
raging
and scratcing behind my teeth
tempting
to spill through my lips.
swelling.
threatening to overflow.
our
ideas explode on a blank page. a
pen
fused to our viens. our ink
forms
a lucid spill over a white canvas.
thoughts
scream out loud caressing our minds. wrap
around
the soul. for we are all
poets.

ballad empty
crawled through
fingers of day
the blue hue
and wet wave

coarse rest
sitting on the
bench with
steaming coffee
while slabs of
office walls
threw the sharp
light and tanned
our disinterest

Lost bliss
in the hot tonic
and that wind
from the cold lake
beyond the
wheat towers
settled our
restless
hearts

and the steady
thrum of the cities
heartbeat
rose up beneath
us

His days may come regret of heart
The gifts made through the years apart
His kin within his heart now found
the place his spirit dwells,

a word, a joke, a gesture made,
take back their childhood years charade,
when light adorned the mantle bright
giving truth to mortal life,

now aged of years gods peace may come,
while dreams sequent life's river runs,
within his nights such scenes parade,
Illusions trapped from life's charade .

Swan Lake Gardens Paradise

Swan Lake Gardens is like paradise amid the oak thistles. Trees stand tall in the middle of the lake. Black swans, white, grey, brown, multicolored wade in the water, pick their feathers clean with their beaks, and skying across the water like a ship on the seven seas. A photographer takes pictures standing on the lake shore.

I'm bored down here with this bit role; I can't take life to heart.
Next time you're casting I'll audition for a more appealing part.

Perhaps I could portray the villain, play the evil shark -
like maybe the French Emperor, Bad Nap Bonaparte,
or have a wonderful adventure planned out from the start
and fly around the world, can I understudy Earhart?

I'll rhyme the words to rein the raging tide
and whip the pains and blues away with verse.
I'll make my rhythms like a saddle ride
to lash away the sorrows, splash the worse.

Who said that words can't speak and shout , engage
to heal the souls that always weep and grieve ?
Who said that words can't lull the hearts in rage?
They've got a worthy message, I believe.

Man’s days will soon be vaporized histories
All because a senseless desolation will reigns
After the ceremony of the nuclear rain
Earth’s landlords escorted by their landladies
And tenants will be gone into the windless terrain
Beyond the border mountains beyond styx

Twenty years have passed
since my best friend and i had spoken last

Originally legitimate reasons of concern quickly turn
into more profound statements of deterioration learned

Living in worry , based on mental stability ,
are leading causes of disappearances in most major cases

Anorexic indignations self- induced by lack of conformity
in societies reality leads to the harsh realism of the seriousness
in this situation

My occasional friend
I’m back again
With more tears this time
I’m sure it’s no crime

I do hate myself
I’m on the lowest shelf
I’ve lost my way
Stuck deep in quick clay

My mornings seem to come
With no dew or song
I dare not expect some
I guess that will be wrong

Should I undo my veil of lies?
I wonder; do I even try?
I must wash out my messy brain
And pour my filthy heart down the drain