Narrabundah Frost

Frozen figures frostily breathe and wheeze
Moving stilly, silent, silenced and muted
Thin. stubbled old ghosts
Bearing their years, fears and habits
As they stumble forward;
A bus stop post guides a pallid patron,
Cold-handled IGA doors await a post-dawn buyer
Carry bags and shopping trolleys are their guide
Their morning mission must be plied
The cold, icy exhalation of their final days
A mourning of the life they must face
Frost and icy snowy breath
Meets headlong with their stalwart pride
They look up and ask “Is this all, is this it, or have I been lied?”


Oh no! Not another moon
Lighting loves both lost and alive;
Do you moon on grief and love thrive
When I, here, must drink to survive..?
Begone! Please….. You are not needed;
Lovers lust for dark,
And even a super blue moon goes unheeded;
I have my fire which will me spark
Into action to make my mark;
While I wax, you will wane
And with it, you may take my pain.

Meth Heads

Meth-heads, easily led
Into a wasted bed, if you’re not too well read;
Dicks finish up dead,
Rubbed sore till they’re bright red;
Randy but only in the head,
Leaves the woman unsolved,
A relationship unwittingly evolved,
Drug/sex ambitions wretchedly revolved
Their fickle futures quite quickly devolved;
Their faces sucked into
Little glass pipes, it’s a sin to
Partake of this fetter
That ain’t no life, just bullshit and strife.
Get real man, it’s probably better
To be happy with just a Stan, or maybe even a wife.
Time to give it away and get on with your life.


Oh, Meryl
Sometimes I know you’ve said you wished you were sterile
And you always thought my thoughts were puerile
I must’ve turned out your version of feral
And you always feared I was in some sort of trouble;
Oh Meryl, now that you’re the one in peril,
So sorry to burst your geriatric bubble,
Now that you’re the one in my care,
Now that all that’s left is a vacant stare,
Well, this is where I really get into trouble,
Coz I tried my hardest while you were still nearly there,
I tried as hard as I would ever dare,
But sad to say,
Things went completely astray
And it looks like it’s come the day
Where I have to go back to Life’s play;
You got me thinking you were a bitch and a witch
You thought I was a snitch unhitched
This has left us both by each other corrupted
And I’m sad this is how it’s erupted;
We could blame the hospital, your dumb doctor
All I wanted to be was your fucking proctor;
But the truth is, my view on the tender gender
Has struggled, since for you I was always on a bender;
So your care for now I’ll have to be a lender
And mail you back ‘return to sender’
To my exemplary ex-wife
She’ll do her best to sort your strife
She was always way too good for me
The outcome this time, we’ll have to wait and see
But please remember, I tend to write in a bit of a fit
And poetic license might make me seem a filial heretic.

Medical Emergency

Dropped mum off at hospital,
Dementia unit;
Not so bad, better than a moon unit
With a bit of time maybe retune it
Always hope, a new perspective
Anything’s better than retrospective.
Or is it?
New plugs, a quick reboot
New computer took it for a quick scoot
Testing compression
Quick cure for repression, depression
Doing one sixty alongside a Chrysler
He spies the law, I get caught,
Never too late to get taught;
My reasons not stuck in a craw
Didn’t have time my breath to draw
Random man gets random breath
Check it out, count to five,
Told the copper why I drive
No real threat of death
No sure sign of social insurgency
But rather a medical emergency.
Get let go, my shout, I’m no lout
If I break the law, I’ll wear it’s clout
But only if they catch me.

Lunar Tick

Tick tock,
Goes the clock;
Round our blue green planet
Spins this rather large rock,
What one might geologically call,
A chip off the old block
That long ago did skyward fall
And to us all recently displayed,
Save perhaps to the locked away lunatics misbehaved,
A planetary delection.
A lunar confection
In the form of a super moon,
Easier for the cow and the runaway spoon,
A giant golden-hued balloon
Takes our attention in a tidal display
As it swam the sky both night and day.


Life has a habit of getting in love’s way;
Now life’s crucial emotion just goes through the motions;
Surely smarter men than I
Have struggled to understand and satisfy
What it might take to mix life and love both night and day.

It’s easy for each sex to blame the other,
Choose the real reasons not to uncover but smother;
Too easy the men to blame the tender gender
Too easy to mark men return to sender;
But the cause, of course, is elsewhere.

In the grim, grey commerce of life
We must compulsorily sacrifice,
All that was once to life regarded as essential,
Now just another marketing device,
To be laid at the feet of sweet success, society’s graven idol.

Love, free and natural, is now a vice;
Love’s thriving force, pure passion,
Is sadly relegated last by fancy fashion;
As we age, must we ourselves destroy
Just to stay in some sad, social employ?

On Life’s casting couch we will live,
Indebted till we have no more to give;
Pose and prostrate,
Egos on account, super swollen prostate,
Retirement residues trickle down from society’s sieve.

The price to pay, some sadly say,
Is the total loss of the ability to just play;
Sure you’ll be happy in a way, both day and night;
But the price paid to avoid some paltry life plight
Is the loss of simple, easy love and life,
And probably the loss of our planet, the ultimate blight.


Look at yourself, what do you see?
If you look from inside, there’s nothing to flee
You might see your soul,
No-one else can read your real role.

Look at yourself, what do you see?
Others aren’t sure what to make of you
But they give you a view that suits them too
And act like everything is true;
They think you’re theirs to mould and fold;
Bend if you don’t;
They’re just too soft and nice to scold or withhold…

There’s a price to be truly free
That’s what they don’t realize about you and me;
You have to hit rock bottom to clearly see
What is surface and what is sea,
Just what it takes for one to break free.

So don’t look at yourself,
Try looking at them,
Try looking at me
And if doesn’t add up
Then there’s no need to flee,
Life’s oldest equation has scared far stronger than thee.

So, here’s looking at you,
But through your eyes only
Not through theirs…
That will only cause unconscious tears.

Look at yourself through your eyes only
And enjoy the view
From Life’s living room,
It doesn’t need to be all gloom and doom.