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.