Train ghost

The ghost on the train
into Melbourne City and back
was friendly but insistant
he was not going to cede his place
he hammered, he pounded,
he shattered my peaceful rides
I tracked his movements
it was not a battle I won.
The memory of two trips taken
almost two years ago stood out
he talked I listened
that was how I saw our relationship.
Now - he will never talk again
I shall forever bee haunted
between Ashburton and Flinders Street
and back
by a quiet August weekend
where I was allowed to relive
some point of my innoncent youth
thirty-three years gone by
Cambridge - Copenhagen - Melbourne
oh train spirit - I shall remember
because you are gone - spirit of poetry
of youthful hope and joy and resentment
because I could not love the way
you did - animus of mine
phanthom of my train ride today
you are dead - yet you push yourself
through everytime I ride that train
until I am gone too.

Grandkids crazy gallore

I have two grandkids
they are Aussie born
but their tempers are universal
eternally running wild
driving their parents
exactly to their breaking point
nothing new
no surprises
except that I their grandmother
had forgotten
how crazy it can sometimes get
but truly at the end of the day
the children are
just like my own
I survived,
they survived
and their parents will too
a phase that's all

Mid-Afternoon

after a day at work
dreaming of Starbucks
the first mate on
a whaler's ship
with a mermaid's logo
the coffee that I drink
equals in strength
and potency
wham - bang
the power
of my shipmate's
left-over coffee
from the morning,
cold ...
filled with milk
I savor the beans
enjoying a quiet moment
writing poetry
about drinking
cold coffee
on a misty Monday
in mid March

RR - hubby?

Looking at car ads
in the Saturday's paper
prompt my hubby to remark
instead of getting a new car
you could get a cheaper one
an old Rolls Royce
---
for what? impress the neighbors
baffle the friends
dupe my dead brother?
---
it is not my style
to have a fancy car
to want a grand house

I tell him bluntly
otherwise I would've had
another different spouse.

D-Sun

The sun is out
I am inside
I should be out
when the sun shines
however creating
a poem seems to be
more compelling
than vitamin D
yet, out is now
not in an hour
when the sun sets
abandon the net.

Greenish sign

Greenish lawns of grey wintryweary torpor
on St Paddy's day in full sun
aim low
a first yellowish daffodil unfolds its crown
on the Irish saint's dawn
neglect
what winter was - icy storms - grayish morns
on your lapel a shamrock
shines!

Depiction

the norm we follow
is what is general
for everyone
we follow fashion
we mold opinions
about all
the premise changes
and if we don't
our world chastises
the exceptional
yet the atypical
is uncomfortable
for most beings
in the animal world
you kill the weird
strange adaptations
of Darwinistic proportions
show competitiveness

of the present species
in our current society
we accept reluctantly
the odd, the strange,
the queer, the weird,
bizarre differences
a dyslectic genius,
an ALS physicist,
a homosexual artist,
the odd one out
often through
the so-called crazies
renewal will be found
borders expanded
visions broadened
horizons widened

alas money rules
talks walks and
the world follows

Virtual differences?

In less than 15 minutes
to Hawaii
to India
to Zimbabwe
all over the map - metaphorically
browsing the bouquinistes
at the quais of illusionary Paris
read an ode of a favorite scribe
listening all the time
to Mozart's requiem
this is our virtual world
trying to compose
a poem with sense, is that possible?
One day on the one hand
Ipod generation will lose their hearing
other - following day - nope, not true -
next, no focusing in the lecture halls
must prohibit the laptop
to take notes - it is back to
paper and pen - due to rookies'
wild behavior on the net
by not paying attention -
distractions always there
in our own minds - daydreaming
Now it is just virtual
but is it different?
A vicious pragma confronts
the virtuous pragmatism!
Nay, the incubus is you!

Hubby haiku

A haiku for you
mate, friend, lover, dana blue -
65 to you!!

Pastiche over old spring poems

All of a sudden spring comes fast
is it this time going to last?
or will it go back like in the past
few months - what a contrast
to blizzard and gray unsurpassed
this winter's blues has gone away
maybe to return another day
however while the sun surely strays
with its so warming welcome ways
I shall enjoy it - come what may!

Travelogue

Travelogue from a friend
reminds me of places
I shall never see
but it doesn't matter
because in my mind's eye
I have tripped more times
than I can remember.
Every time I open the newspaper
every time I see a film
every time I read a book
every time I listen to people.
I journey sometimes
further than I have ever even
wanted to wayfare
yet - the peregrinations
of Queen Mab's fairy dust
in which I desire to partake -
how deep I dream
is the hold she has over me.
Trotting with my fellow companion
half of the globe virtually
will never stop my wanderlust
Even though I may not see all
I call upon Dr. Faust's
devilish curious enterprise
riding into the sunset
with my desire to explore
intact, implicit or explicit.

Don't sweat the tiny stuff!

Somewhere friends are having lunch
outside on their terrace
while I am still huddling inside
due to chills and snow
somewhere my grand kids are frolicking
outside in the strong sun
while I am freezing and sneezing
because of winter's embrace.
Somewhere a friend is fighting
liver cancer and having chemo
whereas I am complaining of
the eternal sinus infection
realizing that I of course
am a lucky bastard with nothing,
but small stuff to worry about
when a friend is battling death!
I think of her beauty and joy
when walking across the fields
and meadows - knowing all her flowers
and anger raises in me asking why??
My thoughts follow her deeply
yet, I have to write her telling her
that she touches my life so
she does not know how I think
of her obvious gorgeous smile.
Sometimes you meet a person
whom you instantaneously like
I see her one New Year's eve
at our dinner table, gentle,
composed, resting in herself -
I sincerely hope she can battle
calmly, composedly, connecting
herself with her inner strength
and enjoy every day of her life
surrounded by those who love her.
Isn't that what life is all about?



To Carol

Day haiku

Just before my work
two cents of remarks describe
my gray wayward day

Antibiotic's probe

resistant microbes
to antibiotics
grows stronger
in some cases
they even combat
to cure and kill -
doctors want stronger
medicines to fight
the panopticon of
negative bacterias
alas, you have got
to be strong to go
to the hospital
or get off the exilir
of the 20th century
nature is always
stronger -
death wins every t i m
e

Fortune haiku

Fortune cookie dream
predicts saffron sunflowers
late in the summer!

Modern medicine ovation

chills down my legs
itching and streams
of warmth
deceptively
spinning like
the beginning
of an orgasm
except it was not
fearfully irritated
drinking water
and hurrying to the store
buying cranberry juice
drinking - water
peeing ever so often
alas - another antibiotic
for the cure
and eventually
recovery is sweet

The Volva's venting

her winter boots helped Vigga the Volva
as she was treading through the tedious snow
it was now an old hat that winter
hammered heavily every two days piling up
gray and grayer the whiteness became
along the roads - melting came slowly
when the sun definitely decided
to appear again on the open skies
shortly to dismount and leave for
rain and rain and clairvoyant clouds
she mused to herself which lately
had become a solace - her own voice
she felt alone in the vast void
although it was her own doing
she had no true energy this time around
her cavalier of her summer in the north
of whom she had vivid sensual dreams
did not make her morning peregrination
any happier or easier, just heavier..
and the blasted simulated whiteness
bothered her - she was longing
for love in all the usual places
not her daughter's filial love
but a sexual deeply satisfying lust
spread in her body defying the cold air
surrounding her, prompting her to walk
to her favourite spot in the woods
where she leaned against
a tree, (was it Ygdrasil as usual?),
staring wildly, blindly around her -
even daring to fantasize of the eunuch...
she was in a frenzy - not sensing anything,
but her own body inside her heavy winter cape,
hotly she reached down inside her gown
- her deft fingers finding the flower -
with her free hand fondling the nipple
one after the other, feeling not the cold
only the summer heat of her own yielding
building up the movement of her fingers
on her Venus mount - rubbing - until
the ecstasy and well-deserved release

she walked on down to the stream
washing her hands and splashing ice-cold water
on her hot and feverish face - she bent down
and thanked the goddess for at least
being able to satisfy her needs -
as natural as all other bodily functions
even though she was alone in her woods

Happy Hubby or Lourdes revisited

Stood in the shower
when
hubby exclaimed,
Today is a miracle!
Huh?
All the socks
matched - none missing!
Truly
it seldom happens.
Were we in caves
of Lourdes
today
we were graced
by the hose goddess.
Unique union
of a happy hubby
and settled socks
outside the bath!

Positively spring

Oedipus resurrected
Electra and all the rest
of the Greeks - mythology
ancient wisdom buried
deep in the Jungian archetypes
hidden away so deep
that only in fairy tales
and legends told by mother
can anybody find solace
(except religious believers)
and understanding of
the fellow mortals
adding on the person's
own life experiences.
Eureka for us who live -
there is always something
new to brave or espy!

Q?

Q - a questionable quest
a letter in the alphabet
becomes a challenge -
query a quarry?
Quaver and tarry!
As I must - alas -
onwards to the goal,
a recipe for success
is to carry
on the weird quest;
the end may be
chaotically quixotic.
Challenges picks at
the curiosity -
could not conjecture
sublimely or awfully
that for the scribe
the letter q
begins a novel
poem in the qth -
an occult picaresque.

(crazy poem dedicated to Ian Flemming's
Q who tried to create many
crazy devices (especially in the
movies) for James Bond and whose
view that you have got to try anything
whether it works or it needs refinement)