Yr Fizz

I opened up a soft drink —

You know how it is —

One recently opened

but it had lost it’s fizz.





It had lost its zest.

It had lost its tang.

It had lost its bite

& it had lost its bang!





So hang onto your hat.

Enjoy life’s gee whiz.

You gotta be where it’s at.

Never lose your fizz.

*happy Xmas everyone

Last Night was Brutal

Last night was brutal.

We fought like Godzilla vs Kong.

Boxers slugging it out in the ring.

Cage fighters gouging and kicking.

Oooops. Is that an eyeball in my hand?

We were earnest. Furious.

Mean as gorillas. Cut-throat as pirates.

In the end we smoked the peacepipe.

What was that all about? she asked..

I don’t know, I said.

Look, next time, can we please agree what we’re fighting about?

  • pic courtesy of maxsportstz.blogspot.com

The Animals in Me

I have been called an ostrich for burying my head in the sand,

a mole for burrowing down to my zone of creativity,

quiet, unreachable,

a creepy lizard by a former girlfriend,

a snail for withdrawing inside my shell when I watch TV,

but best of all a bear, Johnny Bear, a much loved character

from my partner’s childhood, who lived with Grump, his mother

in Yellowstone Park in the book by Ernest Thompson Seton

which I am now devouring like the bookworm I am.

*which animals have you sometimes been compared to?

If you go looking for me

If you go looking for me sometime after dark

I’m out with my flashlight, hunting for a snark,

a perfect metaphor for an imperfect poem

so I can bag it briskly and bring it home,

a perfect metaphor, so rare and so apt

that captures the mood, the Magnificat

of the vision splendid I hope to impart,

the perfect, perfect metaphor somewhere in the dark.

Parable of the frangipani

That tall,

leafless

stick of a plant

I thought needed water

I tended each morning

the constant gardener

till the real gardener came back from leave

and told me it was dead

slicing a stalk to show me

it was hollow as a straw.

All this time I lavished my love on this plant

and had killed it

& I couldn’t help but see

the seeds of a parable here

one that Jesus or Buddha could have touched on.

It just needed cultivating, that’s all.

Risks Not Taken

Was watching 24 Hours in A & E

where this skater

tore down a flight of steps on his board

then crashing at the end

ending his chances of becoming

a pro

& I thought

we don’t take chances like that in our writing

not really

we don’t face broken bones, torn ligaments

or worse

we don’t face much

what’s the worst?

no one ‘likes’ our post, no one comments,

we put up a post that upsets a few people

it doesn’t get much worse than that

we don’t really risk much

but what if we did?

what would it look like?

what’s the riskiest post you’ve put up?

*pic courtesy of pinterest

Three Nights

Three nights of frazzled sleep

crammed into four hours on the couch

mellowed by malbec, merlot, mataro

an afternoon of tasting platters & wine samplings

at Penny’s Hill where black-faced sheep slumbered

under the oak; now you slumber so gently:

sweet Lethe has taken your troubles over the border;

you will awaken and forget

A Magnificent Lockdown

I almost tread on this fuzzy little chap on the sidewalk, out for a stroll, soaking up the mid-winter sun.

How’s it hanging? he asks.

Oh , you know; not bad.

He looks up. You out of lockdown yet?

Almost, I say, one day to go but we’re allowed to walk. How about you?

I’m about to enter the biggest lockdown of all, he says in a tone half way between excitement and trepidation.

Wow! I say. Really?

Yes, he says, metamorphosis. You heard of it?

Why, yes. It sounds magical.

Up to 14 days, he says. No food. No visitations. Reckon you could handle it?

If I could turn into something light, winged and beautiful, like a butterfly, I’d give it a go.

You humans can’t have everything, you know.

I nod my head sagely.

True, I say, true. Well, anyway, have a good …. metamorphosis, and off he trundles on his way, giving me the thumbs up, a tricky thing for a caterpillar. Such a clever chap.

Spent

Now it is spent and lying limp

and placid at my feet —

a contentment of inky blue

but the other day if you

could have seen it bucking

with energy , flailing its

wild hair and arching its back

[ sea mountains surfers abseiled

down ] you would not have been

surprised to see it thrust

its loins again and again against

the soft white dunes nor after

to see the body of the foreshore

bruised and torn nor its rump

so foam wracked .

pic by Lachlan-Ross on Pexels