Yellow

Yellow

is

something mellow
that gets the yolk,

the buttercup duckling
wrapped in chubby fingers, cradling,

it don’t mean a thing
if it ain’t got that lemon zing,

butter creaming,
icing sugar dreaming,

sunflower beaming,
Coldplay streaming,

cows milk churning,
cheese wheels turning,

banana paddle-popping
corner shop-a-stopping,

sunbeam slating
the unhappiness, deflating,

so tie a welcome ribbon
round the old oak tree,

or

sinister like yellowcake in the hands
of anyone,

a fever lingering in the blood
of mosquitoes,

the sheen of the underbelly
of a suspect snake,

the label of a coward in the face
of fear,

the jaundiced hue of the face of the man
with a failing liver,

and the phlegm from the lungs of the one
with emphysema,

or the ageing letters cramped in the diminishing space
of the nursing home,

as well as the caution sign on the door,

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Note: A repost poem from my colour series and in honour of the ducks and ducklings now cavorting around our property – and a reminda that you gotta take the good with the bad 😉

I’m in Trouble Again

My ransom note poem about Gina Rinehart ‘Listen up Gina’ has been published in the Australian Poetry’s Sotto Magazine (November Edition).

This makes me very happy but slightly apprehensive 😉 as Ms Rinehart (the richest lady in the world) is on the search for more coal (like she hasn’t got enough already) and has bought the local pub (5 minutes drive away) on the promise of a seam of the dirty stuff. It is more than likely that the coal is there and that she’ll be employing people (at the lowest rates possible) to dig it out of the ground.

Never mind! There are heaps of other pubs around. And I have heaps of aliases – haha.

Cheers

Gabe Killer Crook xo

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waiting,

 

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note: image is in the public domain and was found here.

On the Road to Progress

On the Road to Progress

Every day the road displays the slaughter
at the altar of progress and prowess;
how fast and far can we travel.

What gets in the way, pays
and paves our path in blood –
human and the other animal offerings.

The guttural roar of empire
smothers the whimpering
of minions in their death roll pleading

S … ave
O … ur
S … ouls

But a corpse is not long in the sun –
a mere crows meal, maggots feast
lubricant for the corpulent tyres

on the limo of civilisation;
Fatboy Slim remixes
You’ve Come Along Way Baby

while Hannibal Lecter’s
appetite is whet
for the silent lambs.

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Warning: song contains lyrics that might be considered offensive

Sound of Peppermint Bottle

Sound of Peppermint Bottle

Still life, Peppermint Bottle
Cézanne looks; I hear
peppermint bottle

chocolate block
red toffee apple
clip clippety clop

rubber plantation
prelude to power
carnation, lactation

molten glass
tube
salt spray, Esperance

butter batter bitter with a squeeze of lemon

savouring words
sound and association

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Note: Cézanne’s Still Life, Peppermint Bottle is reproduced here from Wikimedia Commons.

NutherNote: I got the idea of this poem from blogging artist extraordinaire Aletha Kuschan. She is a big Cézanne fan and had been inspired by a detail in his Peppermint Bottle to paint apples. Thanks Aletha 🙂

AndNutherNote: When I was a scruffy school kid I used to write down my favourite words. I think chocolate was at the top of the list (ahhh what a consonant and vowel combination; plus an association with a textured and tasty treat that I was rarely allowed to eat 😉 ).

Do you have favourite words?

Do tell!

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A Lament (from Alan Jones)

I couldn’t resist 😉

A Lament (from Alan Jones)

O net! O web! O slime!
This Merc I drive so fine,
Taken from me, unjustly, I deplore;
Maybe not returned, the glory of my prime?
No more -Oh, I will roar!

Out of this unfair fight
Adverts have taken flight:
Fresh smears, and grief, a twitter war
Move my pale heart to rage, but not contrite
No more -Oh, cease this war!

by Gabrielle Bryden

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My apologies to Percy Shelley 😉

A Lament

O World! O Life! O Time!
On whose last steps I climb,
Trembling at that where I had stood before;
When will return the glory of your prime?
No more -Oh, never more!

Out of the day and night
A joy has taken flight:
Fresh spring, and summer, and winter hoar
Move my faint heart with grief, but with delight
No more -Oh, never more!

by Percy Bysshe Shelley

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For those of you not from the land of Oz – Alan Jones is a piece of work who resides on radio; has a large following and is/was considered a very powerful commentator.

He recently insulted our female Prime Minister with hateful comments about her father who had died not long before. He is used to getting away with all sorts of crude and hateful language, particularly toward women in power.

This time, however, a great many people took umbrage and a social media onslaught has seen all advertising suspended from his talk back show. Mercedes Benz even took his Benz away from him 😉 the poor darling!

This is a very interesting and unique turn of events which is revealing the shifting of power in the media terrain; and it’s not over yet …

Here is a link to the story:

For Mum (1st September 1925 – 3rd October 2010)

Our lady of the Rosary

Our mother’s devotion
to another mother’s
devotion to a son
crucified for us all.

A garland of roses
a string of prayers
to Mary for her son
and for her own sons.

Joyful Mysteries
Sorrowful Mysteries
Glorious Mysteries

devotion

desperation
flagellation
conflagration

she douses the flames with meditation while
rubbing well worn beads between thumb and finger

Rosary beads
worry beads.

If you can’t

If you can’t

dodge them dodgems
bumper to bumper action.

If you can’t

dodge them birthdays
he’s 12, I’m 12 plus

whatever!

If you can’t
beat them, join them,

If you can’t

let your hair down for a day
then you’re in the wrong lane,

move over,
I’m with the birthday kid,

If you can’t

race dodgems,
– then you can have your cake but can’t eat it.

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It was Michael’s birthday on Friday and he turned twelve!

Happy birthday Michael xxxx

We’ve had the best few days (we’re making it a birthweek so it lasts a long time) and yesterday went on the dodgems – what a hoot (especially with all that loud music).

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morbid rumination

morbid rumination

reality

child
sidewalk walking
primary school clothing

imagination

speeding car
footpath lurching
windscreen view to car body colliding
shattered glass and limp body flying
plummeting

morbid

family arriving
stage right shrieking
mother father screaming
knees not bearing
crumpling

rumination

funeral proceeding
parents grieving, in black seething
brother lurching, sister reeling
family kneeling
splitting

annotation

dark side of the moon
waxing

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Sad Fairy

Sad Fairy

Sad fairy, sad fairy the sunshine outside
is beaming for you, but your smile is denied.

Are you sad from the knowledge that the young do grow old
and their soft downy hearts turn white with the cold?

Do you feel that the magic of stories made up
will vanish with time like the squeal of a pup?

Do you feel that you too will dissolve in the mist,
mere droplets of memory for the few who persist

with the childlike imaginings of a long time ago,
when the waters so pure that a mermaid did show?

Please smile little fairy for your sparkly charms
will be gathered with glee in the welcoming arms

of a fresh batch of children, with laughter and kisses
for fairies and elves; as well – reminisces.

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