Fun

A Kookaburra whispered in my ear.
That he wanted to know of my life here
I told him to go jump in the pond
"But of him, I was very fond"

I raced to retrieve my pen and pad
Then threw it away which may sound sad
Talking about sad it is a thing of misery
As the nights grow longer it entraps me

They did this entrapping thing in another land
To catch diamond smugglers with red hands
This reminded me of a job I’d done
Painting a chair for my dear ole Mum

apex bend
the crush force
tearing
a cold temptation
rending

the little trees are
rushed with breath
their elders breaking
in the winds
and wires moaning
anguished cries
filled with passion
loves that died

and in the sanctuary
tiny shrine
the candles brilliant
flicker flare
the happy moments
there to stare
heartbeat song
in subdued glare

LOVE

Love, ah love, we swoon,
it's aura reaching out from in the womb of life,
its cradle rocked in rhythms that beat in time,
it is our shrine, our Armageddon,
full of pain, the pain of being shunned,
or being stunned, no longer capable of reason.

Quite out of season roses bloom,
and on the loom of warm regard,
the warp and weft are twined,
locked in to something we can't totally understand,
ecstatic, full of dreams of unreal things
that mundane thoughts can never quite retain.

Painful in heart
so much to say,
yet when it snows
in depth,
defy is all that knows.

Blood will bleed,
tears it shall feed.
Run we run,
so simple yet
in truth all we have
is our fears.

Human spirit we try
cold mornings we fail.
It is here our soul bleeds.
It is here an old man feels the wind.
It is here the world feeds.

You first just cup my face
then draw me closer
as my heart beat does increase,
you wipe off my tears
and kiss
we hug more with grater force
as you then pull me closer
you press me all over
you want us to strip
bit by bit

we both do
our bodies’ burn within
you leave no distance
bit by bit
we strip

there is no breeze
the car does freeze
as you rip
and witnesses us drip
we hug more
ere the car moves along
the forest alone knows
we just made love together

underneath the layers
of malice
there grows a palid
umhumbled deprived
gullish
to one day it will vanish
without you and perish
yourself
amazes at the past
and how things gast
undo fast
nice feelings blast
pass bad and vast
naturally they last

THUMBS UP

Does anyone here own a set of golf clubs?
And does your wife nag if you use them?
(Some wives are quite happy to use local pubs
To avoid the golf club’s sad amusements)

But men bred in Fife are a different class.
For golf is their only addiction.
And though they may not be averse to a glass
To accuse them of more would be fiction

This story begins on the Leven golf course,
On the tee at the eighth, a par 5.
My good friend, Wee Ginger, was bad, getting worse,
Had developed a hook with each drive.

surety praises
a false dawn blossoming
like glittering eyes
a snarl on whitened teeth
drawn behind damp lips
suffused with pious and pity

deep within
a heart wrung
jittered
in the ruin of taut
folds a cleft forfeit
trickles hot sequence

each restless motion
over waves like water
the liquid want
like a dark rush

an elongated spinal arch
like a bow stretched
for her archer
the fingers tossing
through a mane of tease

Sexy lies the dawn
as It holds
my longing eyes,
surely but slowly
you alone seem to fill the gap
between me and the rising sun

you burn me more
than would the fireball
that too
from a far off distance
as I feel your nearness and warmth
much more

our bodies collide and graze
sparks emblaze
as the fire works
put down the sun
this dawn becomes the loveliest morn

I sit here listening with my eyes.
Why I ask myself, do I watch for you.
How did I reach this point of doing?
I cannot shout at you to make you hear

You have become a number to me
I have lost faith with this system
Where are you that you don’t look for me?
I am a tap of the keys from your eyes

Damn this vacant place with no feelings
Yet you want me to know you are there
Speak to me then with gentle touches,
My eyes will stir, my soul will seek for you