Sunday 30 November 2008

the old painters daughter

the chesterfield
and the lamplit room
that round dark table
and a leather book cover
settle in for a decade
...... or two

standalone museums
they are
like nora
who plays solitaire
with her vodka

she has the sharpest wit
and an ironic twinkle
and then she has the hats

draped across the octopus
i call it ...
hats hats hats
a hat stand that brims with life
like a waterfall
in the hallway

she doesn't see me
so I make myself some tea
and sprinkle what sugar
is left from the rim of a jar
and settle on black
cause she likes my whims

she wants to paint me
i would like that ...
she thinks my beanie
is the colour of blood
and she likes that
she has paintings
in the art gallery
and her father
was a great landscape
artist
a print was on my wall
as a child

but she doesn't paint me
she just wants to talk
about the harbour
and how kings cross
used to be
and how kings cross
always is

she says
leave your beanie on
please
i know its a little warm
but it glows
right on top of your head
i say
does it make me look
like a matchstick

she laughs and says
put that nasty looking tea away
and have a bloody vodka

Monday 17 November 2008

the swap

one day i'm gonna swap
this neon for something greener
one day i'm gonna take
this makin it up stuff seriously
one day i'm gonna angle
for a year in the desert
one day i'm gonna buy
full cream bloody everything
one day i'm gonna write
a story on my back fence
one day i'm gonna do
all the things i'm gonna
because one day i'm gonna
swap this neon for something greener

Sunday 9 November 2008

puff the magic dragon

she cried
when i sang
puff the magic dragon
not because my voice
lilted in spots...
not because my hands
cradled the guitar
with ease ...
nor because these things
together
made a harmony

not for any of these reasons

but because the boy
had grown up
and life was not of dragons
and such adventures ....
no time for high sea
imaginations
or playful autumn mists
and so alone puff
retreated into his cave

she cried for this
and said ....
with all the fire it brings
and upturned boats
with all the strings
and ceiling wax
and all the fancy other stuff
along the way
our puff the magic dragon
shall have a place to stay