saturday arvo at the edge of a salty green lake
birds squawk in the trees
fish zip around just under the waters surface
suns rays warming not burning
the fambley walks along on a carpet of grass
up here in the “village” visiting my mother
beautiful profusion of flowers
the kids chatter n argue n run about
we cross the wooden bridge
a field full of seedlings still in their buckets
chimney on otherside of lake puffs out greysmoke
australian afternoon goes on n on
no
nothing here can last for ever
everything in flux
everything tumbling headlong into time
the trees the lake the sky itself
i get older before my eyes
is the mirror lying?
the children get bigger n bigger
gee theyre well made , son says my mother watching them
one day today will be a dream
somewhere to try to get back to
but never succeeding
i remember all the times of my life
the good times
the badde times
the mansfield st days forever over
my childhood so far far away
could i have ever been a childe?
the salad days
the halcyon days
the glory days
the hard yards
the struggles
the white nights which lasted forever
the drives, the long drives
the miles n miles n miles n miles
me driving
ploogy next to me
the other 2 in the back
smoking dope
blasting music
no problems
no responsibility
driving thru the deep night to get somewhere
to play a gig
some motel somewhere
another room another bed another pillow
eat the biscuits n make a cuppa tea
the pool says closes at 10
and its 2 in the morning now
but ploogys already in
i scan thru the tv stations
i change the cassette on my walkman (with dolby)
i undo my suitcase
and a hundred paisley shirts escape
dressed in green suede boots n black levis
grey n red striped shirt
my earrings are blue mexican crosses
i bought in…uh…mexico
my hair is in transition from blonde back to brown
my nose is sunburnt
i need to shave
do i ever wonder how itll be when im nearly 53?
when i have a whole buncha kidss and all the rest
when i have crashed n burnt on the gear
when i have come out the otherside
and worked hard at not being a complete idiot
done ten thousand yoga poses
down ten thousand laps
started to paint
started to act
started to blogge
as my veins return
but my conscience still troubled
all the havoc i personally supervised
oh dont be hard on yerself beeing somesay
oh dont be too soft on yerself either say others
thats what got ya in that mess
people say we love you beeing
thank you people oh thank you
love plus gratitude are the keywords
the words that make the water crystals so pretty
you think i turn my nose up at any love
i accept any love you offer, humbly
but i hate schmaltziness n sentimentality
and giving some cynical smartass a chance
to write a scathing comment about us
because i have been a withering cynic of
ugly proportions
and ultimately
its so easy to be horrible
and so hard to really lay yourself open
and say i love you
even if its just on a computer
to some ancient hippy druid
who once accidentally wrote a song
yer sister played once
and ya got to like it…
my readers
my fiendss
my detractors
those bored
those who can be bothered
this is my life
the only one that sk is gonna get
thanks for being here
thanks for shoulders to cry on
thanks for the nice things you write
dont ever be sycophants
dont ever be yes men
dont be nassty to me for the sake of it
here i am
your avuncular second rate prophet
your renaissance geezer
your delicate bricklayer
a huge vocabulary but i say fuck
i never foresaw all this
im appreciating it
my fambley
my readers
my second chance i probably didnae deserve
trying to stay open n keep my edge
i dont wanna turn out a loada sugary syrupy bullshit
but i wanna say i think about what you say to me
gen x blind angel
h. heart
verdelay
melquee
wil-o
johnny g.
a good guy
patrik 12
century house…a lovely bloke
cst of course
~…nice stuff she writes
all the bloody rest
andy candy the nep-tune dude
dave mc duck (no i love yo more…wanna fight?)
rikki tikki rox-tar, you groovy cat
and kat
lady di
therese
queenie h
eekie beaky hollers
leanne
mr or ms b bon or both
god who have i not mentioned yet
jj
erik
all the anonymouses who read but never comment
the people who subscribe n put the not-bacon on my table
peter podcaste who dreamed it all up
matty d (what are you addicted to….bad spelling?)
all the nz crowd …hold on im coming
belfranque who is a troo friend n knight of kilbeedom
allegedly k nejedly another duke of beingland
i know i forgot someone
someone i think
oh i should mention them
being here
cc escherbark
jaime
don joe
anyway
me mums got me tea ready now
(how marilyn manson!)
i gotta go
love to all
and peace
and healing
amanda
i meant the healer needs faith
not the patient
see ya
ttb