A Little More

A Little More

I think it’s okay to want a little more.

A little more love.

A little more applause.

That second glass of red.

Another night in paradise with you.

We were not built for abstemiousness.

We have gullets, appetites.

It does not mean excess.

A modicum of more will do.

Anita + Heydon: Hard Love

Anita + Heydon: Hard Love. For Don, Tnkerr and others

Are they still together , I wonder ,

after all these years ?

Had they cemented their love

after the concrete hardened ?

Are they still living there

in # 510 ?

Is she still the boss ?

[ her name did go first ]

Did she walk all over him

like people do to their names?

Did their love fade ?

Will it outlive the concrete ?

Are they inside now

holding hands on the sofa

[ like their conjoined names

on the footpath ]

watching tv ?

I’d like to go up to the door

and ask ,

Hey ! do Anita and Heydon live here ?

But I stare at the names instead .

One day their love was fresh

as the newly poured concrete .

I’d like to think it still is.

Is It Okay?

Is it okay to take a post down?

I took a post down the other day

but no one noticed,

said anything.

Look, it had its chance.

But no one came up and asked it

to dance.

It slumped, sad and neglected on the page,

loudly weeping.

You can’t have that on a public forum.

It’s like that Philip Hodgkins poem, ‘Shooting the Dogs’.

I had to take it down to the basement,

put it out of its misery.

I just hope no one was watching.

Shrek

This is Shrek.

Say hello to Shrek.

As you can see this Shrek is NOT a fictional character

but real flesh and blood.

Nor is he green or ogre-ish.

Shrek works at the Stunned Mullet,

the best fish and chip shop in the suburbs

cooking and serving customers.

His real name is Srikanth and comes from India.

Workers at the Hilton near the airport where he used to work

contracted his name to ‘Shrek’ in 2016.

Srikanth loves it and has been called ‘Shrek’ ever since.

He is warm and amiable and has a wicked sense of humor.

When you get served by Shrek it brightens your day.

Guillotine

Guillotine.

Who devised you?

You look so cute

so placid

so trustworthy

warm wooden seat

on the toilet rim

but when I lift you up

to pee

you don’t stay up

like other toilet seats

but drop down

heavily

like something medieval

a guillotine

ouch !

Along the Way

Along the Way

I’ve lost Ed along the way.

Don too.

And Hobbo, of course.

We’ve all lost him.

Blogging friends come and go

like friends in the real world.

But a handful, a baker’s dozen, if you’re lucky,

stay with you.

Your tribe.
Through thick and thin.

Missteps and triumphs.

Five years is not a long time

but they’re always there

sharing their thoughts, their little poems,

their stories,

knowing you won’t be judgmental.

A few drift off for a while

but they come back.
I love their voices in the night,

on bleak afternoons,

on the mornings you’re home alone,

souls you can share your inner life with.

And they listen

*pic courtesy of dreamstime.com

Wall Flowered

 Wall-Flowered.

This book of cautionary tales has languished on the Express Shelf of the library for weeks while more modestly titled books alongside it have whizzed off the shelf in days.

How to explain popularity?

How does it feel to be wall-flowered?

What’s that do to a book’s ego?

What’s not to like in the title, ‘Cautionary Tales for Excitable Girls’?

I was half tempted to borrow it myself except it would only confirm the chief librarian’s opinion of me.

I tried to imagine what one of these tales would be called, what it would be about, even how one of them would begin, but I just couldn’t. Can you?

Fighting Fish

Fighting Fish: an Extended Metaphor Poem

You & me

we’re siamese fighting fish

territorial as hell

in this fishbowl

of love.

You say,

I am taking every inch

of yr space;

I say,

huh, you are crowding me

but most of the time

we get on swimmingly

*pic courtesy of pinterest

But What If I …

But What If I ….

I don’t think I can run anymore.

What?

I run out of puff. I can walk fast though. Does that count?

But you’re a running joke. Can’t you push yourself?

But what if I damage my hamstring?

Then you’ll become a lame joke. Get it?

Hey, I’m the one supposed to be cracking the jokes here.

Then run, for god-sakes, run.

*pic courtesy of pinterest

Lady Bay

Lady Bay

Molly and Tom are sipping G & T’s on the porch of their third room apartment overlooking the golf course.

“It is so peaceful here, “ Molly remarks.

The main road passes the links where cars pick up speed after leaving the confines of a 50 k zone but their roar is swallowed by the distance from the apartments and the vastness of the course.

Just then Tom’s eyes lift as he notices a vehicle driving over the green. It has just come off the road.

It slows down and stops. Two figures in dark blue uniform dash out.

“It looks like a police van,” Tom remarks. “What are they doing on the course?”

Just then three shots ring out. Then silence. There is a scuffle of some sort. Within a few minutes the van drives off.

Later at dinner Tom and Molly learn from their waiter that a king ‘roo had been hit by a SUV and wandered onto the course, broken and bloody, “scaring the bejesus out of the oldies”.

That it was the night before Halloween did not go unnoticed.