My Sydney Fair

Fair Sydney air her alibi
Calm crept across the Bass Strait line
Touched down in Hobart, touched my heart
So swift impressions made

She spoke at thirty thousand feet
A jet star prop plane destiny
She captured more than my attention
Her eyes of caramel brown inviting

Her hands worth holding matrimony
I did not half expect to find
A cause worth leaving U.S. soil
So far behind, could she be mine?

Australia in the winter time
She warms my past beneath nipped sheets
My tender finch please let me shed
This skin that houses frequent faults

To journey round the world in search
Of sacredness I plunge Down Under
Caught between an Aussie queen
And knowing I must travel onward

Two souls entwined a sphere apart
I must not show my broken heart
She has her whole life set before her
I fancy she could fix my focus

The city sprawls amidst the walls
Of roaming hills and hollow streets
The sleepy sway of Sandy Bay
Faint winds that blow my cares away

Mezethes found down buried roads
A taste of Old World, Greek cuisine
Just north the city center
Salamanca hides Café Maldini

And as I sit with thoughts sagacious
Remembering the nights we shared
The waitress pours another cup
As I recall my Sydney fair.

Saw Through The Night With Two Black Eyes . . .

Saw through the night with two black eyes
The velvet curtain cloaking crime
Dark angels who have shed their wings
Exchanging them for fashioned horns

Deception rings, familiar chimes
The witching hour has arrived
As shameless masquerading murderous
Men attend to spread revenge

Suffocation falls like fog
Around us all, it stalls the senses
Projecting false fanatic hope
The drunks will cope but fail to mention

Fortresses they built to last
That crumbled at the feet of failure
The sympathizing ears of strangers
Who listen to barstool lament

The bartender is heaven sent
A buoy in a sea of fools
Left bobbing in broad waters of
Potential meant for so much more

Harbored efforts flail undaunted
Cynicism wins again
As those who have nothing to lose
Pretend they choose conduced dissention

Forever starts with but a kiss
Upon the lips of diamond minutes
A heavy cost for hours lost
Ascribing time’s foreboding tread

The cure for countless casualties
Is Sweden in the summertime
Her subsequent and unassuming streets
Produce desired forgetting

Blameless setting, liberal rule
Induced by seduced sun-drenched leisure
Situation overdrive
The blood of Christ which blinds the eye

Imagine if true love could bind
The hate contrived inside mankind
Effrontery, ribald Charybdis
Devouring non-conformity

Fraudulent, splenetic bids
To buy beach front oblivion
Indecorous curvatures
The crux of earthworm earnestness

Garland laced loquacity
Upon the grave inscription reads:
To Whom It May Concern
Farewell to thee my burdens lain.

This Life I Lead Will Not Last Long. . .

This life I lead will not last long
Frayed tails in taste, crude cummerbund
Billiard balls in motion crack
The black marked eight in Hume defiance

Strength of focus it would seem
Hath deemed religion mental slavery
As Strindberg’s hyacinth strikes root
The vigorous bloom in darkness shoots

And so goes love, the seed of time
Which quickly blossoms, then must die
Take influence for instance
Illusion in remittence

A three act play must turn away
From arabesque depiction laid
Gale forms of such said subtleties
Engage the voyeur’s lustful range

I fear impending doom
Scold sphere settles on this dark charade
And I am left to fend myself
With nothing but drunk fits to guide me

Beyond the door there’s something more
A saddened love, the vacant stranger
Drab Denmark desolation danger
Of calm willed wit and steel spun courage

Sød Anne! Soft, mad, sullen silk!
Hast thou forgotten Zacatecas?
The border towns the wheeled shark blazed by
Heading State Side bound Laredo

I stroll crammed streets and raucous pubs
Which house ten thousand fiery eyes
That sear into my empty frame
These creatures I cannot relate

A poet doomed to never feel
The human touch of wants embrace
The rain was made to fall on me
And drowned me in my misery

My face invites the flirting tease
Of women I shall never marry
Never kiss lips fully pursed
The breath of death has breathed her curse

Unwearied strength I knew you well
When I was cloaked in virile youth
But now the age of doubt has come
The age that fears what futures hold

Have I not penned these very lines
Only to laugh when I was done?
To think that I would be the one
Whom death would choose to tread so closely

Surrounded by my own decay
But I have died so many times
It’s hard to differentiate
True death from deaths of years befallen

My convoluted coat of arms
Confirm scant family love per se
You’ll remember me for years to come
The poster child for psychobabble

Exploding from the inside out
A Molotov cocktail mouth of words
Knocking on the mind’s of men
Hoping to at last be heard.

Swurm Meal

Mud river basin fraught subdued
In spite tumultuous wave
The desperate sweeping harbor ships
To search a watery grave

A missing child who last was seen
Beyond the open mouth
Is feared to be a victim of
The riptide pulling out

Present so fair an innocence
Renounced in speck and stream
The placid surf that laps the shore
Not always what it seems

A mother stood beside herself
Within her haunted, vagrant space
Sends prayers toward Heaven one last time
To intervene her lost child’s fate

A paralleled, uncanny reach
The maliblue of pixel crowding
South of city Saugatuck
Sits faceless forlorn faggot housing

Dear Douglas in the summertime
Boasts lawns of manicured intent
The time town captives poured into
Pretentiousness were hours well spent

And then there’s me, the bastard spawn
Of all inclusive after parties
Drowning in bong alabaster
Water I could never swallow

Eyes undress my soulless structure
I can sense discovering
Who I am and what I pretend
I may be due prophecy

Men will say there’s nothing to me
Girls will claim they thought they knew me
Long ago and long since been dust
Running low on cleric trust

My Christian roots and heathen boots
Strapped to this place marked Planet Waste
I never thought I’d make it this long, this strong
Thought my mind would be gone

Sweet mother gave diplomacy
My father, hopes I’ve dared to dream
I thank them both though they don’t get
My intellect in retrospect

My broken heart, my ill-sought fame
The squalls of rain that flood my brain
The train of which I’ve never leapt
The promises I’ve never kept

Passing regret long lone tracks
Of memories I can’t take back
And miles of steel rail laid in doubt
The desperate need to find a way out

Search in vain for inner truth
The whispers of existing proof
Commit my body to the sea
And let the wave wash rescue me

Relationships I’ve scarred in harm
And some of which I’ve tried too hard
Some too damn slow and some too quick
Some felt like cuckolds to my prick

Obsequious extrapolation
Elicit forms of fornication
Risque intoxicating hipsters
Grow into obsolescent spinsters

Exquisite marram grass beholding
Pontificated thoughts unfolding
Tears of night that fall from flight
While dancing with her in the moonlight.

Too Far This Fabled Disregard . . .

Too far this fabled disregard
The attitude of gross neglect
The founders of abandoned catch phrase
Patterns pound the door no more

And as Poe penned his lost Lenore
Into attuned eternity
My pen finds muses nevermore
In women stretched beyond their means

No raven cries their fawned descent
No bird nor beast can represent
The nature of a woman’s heart
What’s felt and said are worlds apart

Fair goddess Isis from the sea
Why hast thou forsaken me?
The sun you promised years before
Was but a lie to hold me yours

Waiting, how my soul doth quake!
Under immense condolences
Tell who of you could take this weight
Upon their shoulders and not break?

The history of my hunch divides
In quiet moments kept inside
And if I wrote of such said pains
The reader of these lines would feign

From reading further on in depth
This brooding angst is better left
Restrained to my insanity
With no kind words to comfort me

Please do not mourn or cry for me
This life I lead was meant to be
Alone, impoverished duly so
Soul sacrificed ages ago

A stranger in the house of gods
Equipped with armor forged facade
Disillusioned by the past
The flag half mast I raise my glass.

Bula Fiji, Vala Vatico?

Ardent clues past date forlorn
The breeding ground for burdened beds
Commit to only sacred rites
That spell out how lost souls are fed

Forego mulled, mystic fair delight
The sky that melts beneath the day
Returns in shades of blackest night
And burns the sea with blistered breezes

Wood drums keep beat the tempo drone
Steep mountain climb in Fiji time
And find the village Kese nestled
Quaint along calm, turquoise waters

Bula Bule! Much vanaka!
Gracious giving godly host
Opened doors and opened minds
Invite a white man’s rich encumbrance

Ova, let the rains poor down!
Blessed in faith and forthright truth
You’ll grow to be an upright man
I pray someday to bear the witness

Wayalailai cast upon me
Scores I’ve never bargained for
Trade winds begin the day’s delight
As afternoons croon hammock lounging

And as the sun sets over beaches
Strewn with white sand sparkling shoreline
I stand in awe of all creation
Knowing well there is a God.

South State Aussie Doldrums

No sickness for a home behind
No wistful memory felt
No hesitation and or doubt
Survived dealt Cooper’s Stout

No Parliament could lock the door
No legislation held the floor
When it came time to walk that line
Boag’s Draught to swerve an impaired mind

Rambunctious restitution spelt
The Telegraph found me in knelt
Up to the Duke for one last shoot
Before I root her firm, tight boot

Insured by Halo’s blinding payload
Made perfect sense, I recompensed
Whatever ecstacy left there
Was far the best beyond compare

Collide if only but a day
The splendid shores of Wine Glass Bay
Freycinet and Bongarong
Whisper your song and I’ll be gone

Mt. Wellington cascading down
Around Dynnyrne where I reclined
Enjoying cool capped winter dawns
And testified their fog filled wonder

Bruny and Maria
How they captivated much my mind
Their island setting majesty
Hid shipwrecked sailor fantasies

Hilltop Hoods and Evermore
Made sure my ears were never bored
Oz candy flipping sketchy pills
To cure whatever ailed my ills

Launceston drive in summer time
Sloth quaint towns lining Midlands Highway
Founded in 1805
The year that followed Hobart’s birthing

Upstairs at Syrup she invades
My space and all up in my face
She says her girlfriend likes to watch
When guys like me go down on her

Back at her place in Sandy Bay
She reckons she can make me cum
In fifteen minutes flat to mat
And I say I would like to see that

I won’t go into detail here
But let me paint one picture clear
She swallowed every ounce of paste
And even gave her friend a taste

These days that blend into each other
South state Aussie nights asunder
Weaving thru the city streets
The chemicals begin to burn

Come forth and sample all the pleasures
Gathered on this island sprawl
The sun that finds me wanting more
And moon that leaves me left to crawl

By now it seems I should know better
Waiting for the Nox to fall
The morning light reminds me well
Why darkness rates the best of all.

Mid-March In Paris (Then To Rome)

Red wine upon the river Seine
I’m frozen to the bone
Stood port side with my glass in hand
And gazed upon the Eiffel Tower

Mid-March in Paris cold and grey
I stumble through Pere Lachaise
Edith Piaf and Chopin’s grave
These memories my mind will save

The Louvre, Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa
No pictures of her mystic grimace
Ate cheese upon the well kept lawns
Behind the walls of garden premise

The nightlife swarm of hungry faces
Devouring force fed French delusion
Transformed in streaks of neon green
That culminate in urban fusion

Le Bastille and Chez Jenny
A double shot of peace, merci
Smoking hand rolled cigarettes
While contemplating Rousseau’s works

Frequent shisha shacks till dawn
Do you recall when drugs went wrong?
Relaxed and for a spell forget regret
Engulfing Crepe Suzette

Mid-March in Paris then to Rome
I finally made it, I’m finally home
To think of all the years I’ve roamed
Those nights when not one star was shone

Phenomenon of synesthesia
Conceptualized by ancient Virgil
Perception caught when eye meets ear
Cerebral sensory stimuli

Photism signs refine designers
The Bauhaus thought taught color theory
Emotionally in 2 or 3D
Artistic sensitivity

Kupa painted visual concepts
Kandinsky sought to taste the sound
Clandestine brushed kaleidoscope
Of limbic system sights go round

Plastered next to hurried feet
That shuffle quickly thru the streets
Fast past Italian con man artists
Who prey on tourists not the smartest

The opulent religious verse
That drifts above the lines rehearsed
Blind beggar pleading for loose change
A melody just out of range

This life is but a trip of tricks
That keeps one reaching for a fix
A mix of inbred suffering quips
A film devoid of written scripts

Mid-March in Paris then to Rome
Fortuitous and heavenly
Forgive my triviality
I stand smitten by this triptych beauty.