Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
May 2014 · 858
adrift.
betterdays May 2014
i am a mother
away from her child
i  am a child
apart from her mother
i am a friend come sister-kin
grieving a loss unbearable
i am adrift
in a sea of nothingness
please my lover hold me
close...murmur kind wise
words in my ear
and for you i will recipriocate
for you are
father,son, friend
and you too need
me to be near.
alone, together, adrift
this mother's day night.
betterdays May 2014
on our after afternoon
ramble
we marvel at the beauty
of the autumn trees

their leaves show such
glory in their dying days
before they fall
and wither away....

i could give you colours
ten shades each of green,golden, amber, russet, brown.
but my words would be
a paltry insult to the wonder
of the falling crown

soon the trees will be stark
and bare.....sculptures against the blue and pewter
sky..

but my good god, you taught
them well, the art of an awe inspiring goodbye.
betterdays May 2014
ginger pear slice
mixed well
with dappled sea blue effect
on deepset leather lounge
this is a mother's day best bet
is easy to ***, grows in sunlight
or shade
free seed give-away
grow them yourself
children of style
remember a smile and
a kind word is the most priceless
easy bake dinner for four
what to do with weeds
how to fix that wonky door
citrus colours: the fresh new you
subscribe now twelve issues $42.00
found in a slew of old better homes and garden
magazines
May 2014 · 551
caught in a reflection
betterdays May 2014
the pond asymetrical
mirrored the old oak tree
in perfect symmetry

the stillness of
the autumn day,
chambrey blue sky,
fairy floss, fluffed, whiteclouds
drifting along, lazy and dryeyed
people strolling by wrapped in scarves and coats.

all in conterpoint
to the stillness of the pond
and the old oak tree
caught staring,
lovingly, longingly
at each other.
May 2014 · 1.1k
musings on an oaken pew
betterdays May 2014
in church old
draughty, cold
listen to sermon told
twenty times or more
even the vicar sounds bored

seats long oaken planks
window stained glass,
beautiful,
but,
drear on this dark
and cloudy, autumn morn..

does god really live here
in this dismal place
or does he choose to live
in a heart filled  with grace.
i suppose if omniscient the answer
is both.....
no direspect intended..... to church or god.
May 2014 · 549
m.. hatters bar
betterdays May 2014
we went out for dinner
just to a pub. used to serve
great chicken parma's
just you and me, a quick meal, nothing fancy

well i suppose it was eight,
nine years ago, i last ate there
gone upmarket, in that hipster way.... beers named by frustrated poets, drinks
made in jars and mixologists
charging bottle prices for a glass of boutique wine,mead or perry.
no table for two, just large communal tables, with cold
hard metal stools, that made
ben, tickle his ears with his knees.
one bluetounged beer and
pickled piper perry later
sans $23.00aud later...
we decided Macca's infront
of the motel telly would do just fine...
freeflow....inane i know...
but the whole place was try hard and way over priced...
won't last long in a uni town.
used to go there a lot when i was a student good cheap food and beer by the pitcher...alas no longer...
May 2014 · 825
out at the farm
betterdays May 2014
up on the hills
the sheep graze
moving in wooly clouds
from green to green

if the wind blows the right way
you can hear their contented
baa-ing conversation.

down closer the duck pond is
teeming ducks all trying for the
bread and pellets, thrown by
a little girl in bright pink hooded
parka, mother standing beside

on the breeze, the smell  of fresh scones baking.

in my hand, tea milky and sweet.

on my mind,  the flavour
of jam, i will eat with those
oven warm scones.

saturday afternoon,
visiting old friends.
helps remind me life is good.
May 2014 · 356
perception.
betterdays May 2014
we sit, with coffee steaming
gently before us, rugged up
tourists , waiting for the sun
to remember warmth.
our hands in pockets
but wanting to seek out each others, we constantly touch at present to reassure and bolster courage.
people walk briskly past us
a few nodding in half remembered acquaitance..
a lifetime ago, this was my
choice of abode, my seat of learning, and i reveled in the clear cold mornings, with the bite of wind and snow in the air.
now as we sit, hoping the bacon and eggs will arrive soon... i am thinking it was never this ****** cold before...
May 2014 · 412
mountain morning air
betterdays May 2014
i sit on the bathtub's edge
weeping
not from grief,
tho i still wear it's coarse haired, grey cardigan
but from the pain,
emenating,
from my recently reconstructed leg.

broken and pinned
in summer, to all intents and purposes healed.
it and me have been ****** into the pre winter cold snap
on the moutains,
it is so freaking cold,
my breathe splumes
before me
and my poor mangled apendage, with the livid scars, where the bone had silvered through
is protesting with
a ferocious, throbbing ache.

i have tablets, and have taken them,  but i am in here
trying to warm the air with
the water running hot from
the shower.
i cannot stand long enough to stand under the water's spray yet.

ben, sleeps still,
in the other room,
he is exhausted,
from bearing the grieved desolation that is Laz.
he could do nothing to help,
at present, no one could.
but tried so very hard.
so i leave him to sleep......

...and hope the pills kick in
soon.
May 2014 · 876
on albatross wings.
betterdays May 2014
on
        albatross wings
                                      i flew
                                            inspired to fledge
and grow out & off
                          my comfortable nest
                                                            my wings
        i did expand from small tight
             to broad - broad wide

thanks to you
                    who signposted
                             my wild flight of fancy
                                                             who fed me

from their private stash of goodies

                               who saw me fly up on the edge              

             of reason on majestic wings

                         if but for
                                                     a season.....
maybe two.....
an older work in praise of fellow poets...who
have inspired...but just as relevent today.....
i wanted to post something
other than sad or silly today.....and this is it
thank you all for embracing my work.
May 2014 · 358
the reality of sorrow
betterdays May 2014
your car is still parked
in the drive way,
your coat slung over your favourite chair,
a half read book, some caramel fudge still sits on
the small box beside.
on the hall table,sunglasses
carkeys, handbag, all sit in place
by the door your shoes,dusty
and haphazardly placed.

your fragrance still hangs,
heavy in the air.

on the sink your favourite
teacup awaits, your never again lips.

out the back, in the sunset
of this grey day,
my lover and yours sit,
beer in hand.
i stand washing and drying
dishes..over and over again.
as my heart struggles, to take in the reality
your stuff is all here......

but you have gone
away.....ahead
to that ephemeral place..... you are now, with the stars....
and we... are left with our precious memories .....
and your stuff.
my words are so inedequate against the enormity of what i feel.....
and that is but a drop in the ocean... compared to the shattered desolation of the man sitting outside.
May 2014 · 561
comfort in times of need
betterdays May 2014
we have stopped,
for coffee and to leave Tod
with friends.

the comfort of their arms
open to our need is
immeasurable.

we walk down to the lake
and the quiet beauty soothes

the waterdragons, with the
scurrying, play brings a smile, as do the ***** wagtails with their
come-hither look-at-me
i'm better than, fred astaire, dance.

but beneath it all,
lies the quicksand of sadness
waiting to grasp at our feet again and again...

we must continue on,
leaving our boy in good hands, we go ......
Tod, our son is just going on four, we feel it best to leave him with friends to journey on to the funeral of our close friend Sue.... and gives us freedom to support her partner Laz .....
May 2014 · 407
getting buggy with it.
betterdays May 2014
there is a bug,
on the
windscreen,
hanging on tight.
they must
be
getting
the thrill of their
tiny life
we are zooming along
at  about 65k
irony is
the little bug
was
just looking
for
a quiet place
to stay.
May 2014 · 541
last night, sadness came
betterdays May 2014
we coupled,last night
ben and i
in a strange wild sobbing
song of grieving,
primal,greedy, frentic lusting.
it was, an affirmation
of life,
desperation and sorrow was
our rythmn.....
anger and sadness,
the counterpoints to our, thrusting, grasping beast.
spent,  but still crying,
we spooned,
and pressed our
anguish, against each other
this morning, we are sombre
and united in sadness.
as we pack our black clothes,
to travel to your funeral.
our blood,
still humming,
with that strange song,
so wild, in it's abandoned longing of desperate need to create living, life.. to go on.
May 2014 · 1.4k
a pebble for susie.
betterdays May 2014
i went to the sea shore.on this cold winter eve

i stand with feet in cold cold
water
trouser legs rolled up to my knees
body wrapped in a chunky
hoodie
curly hair, streaming in the bitter wind.
in my hand, a pebble
in my mind, your name
i stand thinking, crying
as the wave pound in and
the wind takes my breath
i sigh and throw the pebble
as far into the breakwater
as i can..
in letting you go... i can leave
farewell my dearhearted friend
and may angels sing thee to thy rest.
May 2014 · 1.3k
predawn
betterdays May 2014
the night is
                  still
                     dark
                       quiet
there is a distinct
                           chill
                             breathe
                            gently steams
from my mouth
                      seen only in the
light of a poets tablet.

the first bird is yet to wake
i am alone in my early mornings prowl.

too cold for the little grey cat
and too early for the human companions, they all remain
abide... cozied up and asleep

as i search the dark cold              
                                          nigh­t
for meaning.

in the distance the kookaburra cackle and chuckle
            dawn has come...
May 2014 · 497
life in it's glory.
betterdays May 2014
i sit in the low afternoon
sun
the warmth of it's rays negligable, but the colours
of it's farewell glorious.

in the lilac bush, still holding
green, the bluewrens chitter,
gossip, chirk and flirt away..
as they dart and flicker from twig to twig.
i think what a bluegreen end to a greyblack day....

and the sun shines,orange
and peach and the horizon
takes that lavender hue.

as the sky fades to deepest
blue.... my thoughts my friend, settle on you...
farewell my sunny friend
                                    farewell.
my friend with cancer has slipped into a coma....
soon she will be at rest.
May 2014 · 358
just one of those days
betterdays May 2014
somedays it is an effort
to turn one's face to the sun

somedays all you want is to flee to hide one'self away

somedays the grey seeps in
under doorways and through window frames
and floods the barriers
of my soul

most days i am less than whole but then are'nt we all

but some days i am more
hole...deep dark and cavernous..... and far less than me.

somedays i am about an inch
and a quarter away from
insane.


and i be knowing....
     ....this is one of those days
May 2014 · 519
kingtide
betterdays May 2014
the sadness rolls in
like waves eroding the shore
and the tides coming in
forecast of more storms
and heavy weather
skys dismal,pewter grey
friend is dying
and the waves are
eroding  my footholds away
kingtide baby, kingtide.
May 2014 · 375
just one more step
betterdays May 2014
o, come let us go....
to where the sidewalk ends
and verdant green grass beckons....

lets us dust the cement shimmer,
from our soul
and swim in water's clear,crystal, cleansing blue.

we will turn our back
to the city,
with it's loud
demanding voice
and listen for the whisper
of god's natural voice

as he speaks, in the wind, through the trees and
as he murmur's love, via the song of the bee's

we will forget,
the colour grey, and remember, the glory of
the rainbows spectrum.

we will shed,
our adult snakeskins
and become
the innocence of our
child within.

so come with me... i pray,
to where the sidewalk ends

hold my hand.. it will be grand.
as we step off.....
into the long forgotten land.
May 2014 · 1.1k
falderal & balderdash
betterdays May 2014
falderal and balderdash
two little imps,
of some small renown.

falderal is a skinny,scrawny slip of a thing.
all intelligent darkness, rootlike in nature.
all grasping and clinging hands and feet.

balderdash, well he is
as his name implies,
round and shiny.
far less than exceedingly bright.
stolid, and cat curious,
smile quite endearing,
but a sense of humor
to be fearing.

imps they are,
as already stated,
of the cadre of earthbound. they are to each,
the yingle to the yangle,
the left to the right,
the peanut butter to the jelly, the day to the night.

apprentice and journeymen they be,
falderal quick to rush through the ranks. balderdash on record,
for longest ever time,
at the start of the race.
they are attatched to the place,
the "rooms" if you will.
of the quacksalver,
come life's strife coach, buttinskimentor.
(he thought to modernise and appeal to a larger demographic spread of people).
the shingle over his eaves, pronounces his name to be, hi. p.r. condriac esq.
if you please.

one day it might be,
when you are feeling,
confused and perhaps,
a tad frail
you skim your junk mail, then, you may find his brightly hued pamphlet,
just skitters to the pile top
and with the dust of conviction spread over thick, and a little innoccuos doubt, another mind trick.
you stupidly think i might try this chap out!
his work sounds appealing, if somewhat radical,
i hope i get lucky
and he gets to revealing,
the source of the foot odour, the smell in my shoes.
that makes me think of hell, and regurgitated *****.

unbeknown to your goodself you have begun, a set of trials, a hopless spell,
a winding serpentine course of sysiphian tasks,
(at a kind and generous 10percent off)
to rid yourself of,
this unholy smell,
which really is,
if i am a secret to tell,
the *** of falderal
and of course the sweat of balderdash's shiny brow,
and places less mentionable,
applied with delighted relish and made to stick with medical grade super glue.

and so after months of debraiding your life,
a light switches on
and an epiphany occurs,
you become wise to these minions of strife
and garner up the courage to yell "
it is a sham and he, but a shylock"

you then wend your way back to the good doctors rooms.
i can garantee you he will not be there,
to listen to your plight,
with due care he has long since,
packed up his snake show, revved up his vespa
and into the night's cacophony,
he has driven,
with journey man falderal and apprentice balderdash, in tow,
clinging on tight,
to the rear mudguard.

he now has other fools in his sight.

as to the problem of the pongy shoes,
to be rid of the smell.
the answer so simple,
you will hear in your mind the loud ringing of bells. garbage the lot shoes,
socks as well.
walk the world barefoot.
you will not be mocked,
but you may find that people mention the words,
slightly eccentric,
when you come to mind
May 2014 · 1.2k
standover tactics
betterdays May 2014
bludgeon me with reckless words
i will stand
threaten me with silence
and solitude
i will stand
berate me with vicious abandon
i will stand

in your actions you prove yourself to be a small man

i will stand
till my dying day
against this type of
pompous academic bullying
i will stand
tall against the mean minded mentality of it all

and you....

it does not matter...
to give you more space
is not worth my time
nor will i stoop
to look you in the eyes
**i will stand
a run in with an acedemic
unhappy with the outcome of the grant process, has a habit of demeaning bullying rants... mostly against younger women... but he has
bitten off a way big mouthful of assertive female this time.
May 2014 · 529
my first job
betterdays May 2014
my first job,
i think i was about seven
was to do my grandfathers washing,
every saturday  morning.
we had chores at home and got an allowance.
but this was a way to supplement it.

so every saturday,
i would ride across town, with my brothers and...

spray preen on stains,
scrub collars with solvol
measure out omo powders
then wait ten minutes
oftenat this time,
i would play with the cat, munster, who was my,
self-designated foreman.

then to start,
water and omo, into
the machine, an old twin tub
drop in the first load,
wait for it to process,
sitting on the laundry step, reading the latest book....
CS Lewis' Narnian series or Enid Blytons Famous Five.

you could only read,
at this point,
because after the first load had stopped washing,
it was into the spinner
and then it was,
a juggle of washing, spinning, filling water levels and getting the wet washing into the basket, without, dropping any.

now,  i was still,
to short to hang out
the washing, on the hills hoist,
but i would call for my assistant, Aunty Barb
and off we would go down to the line .... she would hang...
but i would hand
items and pegs up to her.

once all the washing was done, all that was left was,
one final rinse,
of the machine with
lemon pin-o-cleen,
a wipe with a dry cloth
and my labours were done.

time for a cup of tea,
a peice of gingerbread
and payment of  wages $3.50- $5.00
depending on the size
of the wash.
it was 1974...   that was a fortune then...it was also a way for my grandpa to help out my single mother...(but i did 'nt figure that out til much later) it gave her a couple of hours free on sat mornings subsudised my pocket money and taught me a good lesson as far as work ethics went..as i grew the jobs grew with me by the time i was in highschool i was his housekeeper for much better pay...
betterdays May 2014
3:39 in the a.m.
                   bats call,
cat yowls,
          dogs bark,
                                 partner,
                     snorts,
            snores,
                 ...  . farts......
grandma shuffles to toilet.... .... flushes.
             baby whimpers......
..... or was that me,
         a glass of warm milk to.......................helpmesleep
a dribble.... of scotch to help        .....me sleep
                         a mix of both to help me cope
              no just breath
partner,
             snorts
                      snores
                                 farts
...............must make......
Drs appt for him.
    
  sleep
that knits the
                  ravelled sleeve?
not tonight
           for me
                I do believe.

4.19 in the a.m.
                         To thelazyboy
                 I go to doze.....
perchance ....
                   40winks more
80winks before
          dayshift specialbeautifulcrazy               ....        .....   dayshift begins..  
      DOUBLE SHOT LATTE           .                   PLEASE.               .
...already it is a long day...
May 2014 · 678
water meditation.
betterdays May 2014
slip,
silently into,
the water now,
with quiet ophelian grace
break ,
the tension
lying,
crying,
within mirrored surface
and breathe
the new world in
rinse,
repeat,
move forward.
leave the lost thoughts behind,
to scatter like
cherry blossom petals,
shed
from a dying mind.
watch
the ripple spread
concentric in it's flow
feel
the water's
silk, smooth, pleasance.
luxuriate,
in its embrace
rinse,
repeat
and flow.
grateful
for the calmitude
rinse,
repeat,
and know.
50 laps at the local pool.
May 2014 · 496
A is for....
betterdays May 2014
anguished, anemic, adolescents, arrayed, in a line.
apprehensively, observing the ambulance, take away
an afficiando, again, today.

bereft of energy and ability
to see......
that cutting,
while a momentary thrill.
is leaching their ability,
to be anything
but lethargic, listless and ill.

an addiction to, endorphines
angst and red blood spill.
becomes a viscous, viscious
cycle,
that daily, causes a spiral downward.

you cut, to feel,
release from pain,
blood flows,
draining you of
the nutrients and
sustenance you need,
to cope with living life,
you become,
less able to deal,
with the slights and arrows
and daily dross.
so you cut,
to deal with the loss
of the ability to cope,
you saw away,
at your skin like,
it is a mental rope.
all the whil
you lose blood the live giving force,
you lose the ability to hope
spiraling, until....
you collaspe in class... your secret revealed...

A is for  ANGER...
bright fiery red,
at the abtruse,
asininity of it all.
i know there is much more to cutting....
this is written as a response to the fact, that today, a student the fifth since the start of the academic year (mid february) collapsed in my class and needed to be taken to hospital.
this is the other side.... the anger and frustration of those who watch as young live fall apart...
it is now such an issue that we spend half as much time
in counselling with students.. i attended  16 appointments a month with
students in crisis(i attend as mentor) and sit in with these
troubled young souls.. both genders.
as they are given the opportunities to learn better coping mechanisms.

and still i struggle with the sisyphean futility of it all
so please bear with me
as i vent.

Postscript.. The young man
is tonight in intesive care with an raging infection..
6/05/2014.
May 2014 · 527
nothin is ever really free
betterdays May 2014
'free butlers for everybody'**

yippee!! hooray!! huzzah!!

i would so love,
somebody to follow me
around all day.
doing the mudane and
boring things,
all that daily guff.
to be at my beck and call,
for just about anything at all.

but then,
if there are 'free butlers for all'

would my, butler,
not have a bulter, of his own
to order about from,
his butler throne
and so on and so forth
and if we all had butlers.
would anything, ever,
really get done?

OR, would we all be,
passing ***** laundry
about in a neverending,  
linen chain.
drinking tepid tea from each others ***** tea cups.
polishing silver for some one other than us ...
would i end up,
being a bulter to you.

my god!  

this, idea of

'free butlers for every one.'  

is spiralling,  out of control

this  factotumnal conudrum,
is going to  drive me insane.

JEEVES ! please, please be so good
as, to bring me a calming tisane.
this, was inspired by an advertising blitz campaign for a cruise company... one of the main selling points...
was "free butlers for everybody"
got the noodle thinking and this doodle the product.
May 2014 · 942
morning routine
betterdays May 2014
first alarm
feet to floor
empty bladder
feed the cat
walking gear on
out the door
greet the day
tunes in the ears
wave to early morning peers complete the requisite k's back thru the door
hit the shower
wake the boys
fill the bowls
muesli,wheeties,rice bubbles
juice to glass
coffee to cups
lunch in sacks,
icebars too
help dress the toddler
second alarm
kiss the husband
wave him off
tv on for cartoon relief
dress the office worker check the bags
feed the cat again
set him free
make up applied
pack the napsack
time for another coffee
and a look at poetry spots
write a bit
third and final alarm
wash boy's face
shoes on
tv off and out the door
off to daycare and to work weekend over
new semester begun
of the weekday routine reruns
decide to try for a poem a day for a semester.... 94 days
they will be of every day stuff.
May 2014 · 576
the simplicity of love.
betterdays May 2014
taken back today,
to a time of ignorant simplicity,
of sunday afternoon's fluid routine.
the venue might change,
but not often the steps;
an early bath to wash one's hair.
a take out feast of chinese for tea,
followed by chocolate icecream, in a bowl
in front of the old boxy tv.

we three, two big brothers and me.
lined up acording to age. waiting,
for walt disney and his wonderful world,
to take the tv's stage,
we would watch the play unfold.
enraptured one and all.

for mother dear,
a hour's peace,
mostly, but not always,
free and clear,
of squabbling brawls.

if we had been good,
we often times could,
cadge some extra time.
to see the bannana splits, have their funny fits
and laugh at the weird cartoon bits.

then time to brush those teeth,
and into bed to read,
quietly, for an hour.
a goodnight kiss,
and tucked in tight.
to sleep away,
the dreamless night
we have begun this tradition anew, with Tod our son, we watch all three of us (and sometimes N
anna)"the little prince" and then dinner and bed....
it is a simple thing but there is much communion and joy in it.
May 2014 · 820
anon.
betterdays May 2014
here i am, unidentified.
tho, i have an identity.
pictures of a cat, starfish
and sea shells,
a blurb, that shelters me well.
you know some,
some read and see more
but not all of me, far from all.

you could pass me by,
in the street,
not ever knowing who i am.

few have links to me.
most care not to
and that's ok
i am an ambiguity,
who, tinkers away with words, creating,
sounds to roll off the tongue, tickle the ear
and burrow and settle in the rooms of your mind.

as do,
you all,
do for
and
to me.

we are but, ships upon
a sea of words,
sailing blithely on.
sending semaphore greetings,
across great distances.
before traveling on.

identified only,
by monikers and pseudonyms,
remaining anonymous
except for style and nuances
that give small clues,
to the daily worlds,
we inhabit.
where the veiled secrets
do not dwell openly,
as they do here,
on bright white pages.

here i remain, here
i am unidentified,
bar for a nom de plume.
yet still, more than comfortable  with myself.
May 2014 · 979
sunday morning
betterdays May 2014
the air is crisp
as i sit on the front
verandah, snuggled up
in wooly hoodie, flannel
pyjamas and ugg boots
hands wrapped around
a large mug of steaming
coffee
watching those with more
enthusiasim, than nouse
riding up the hill in bright
lycra body suits.
the weekend pelaton rides
on to  wherever.
betterdays May 2014
three o four
there's a flock
of big brown moths
flapping at the door

they wish to see,
what the insomiac, me
is writing on my pallet
of white electricity

they thrum and they
fight to get to the
seven by five square
of light
that is my dark of night
insanity, rewrite.

sorry i must go,
the cat, has heard,
the feathery noise
and now sits poised,
ready to strike
and that will be
a darkside calamity...
of possible veterinary proportions.
May 2014 · 498
in defence of bees....
betterdays May 2014
there is, a swarm of
bumble bees
making, a hive of
lucsious, loveliness
in my  honeycombed
brain.
they bring, with them,
golden pollens and
nectared ambrosia.
from many places,
exotic and plain
and this,
these, very words.
are the sweet honey,
mumurings,
they produce.
May 2014 · 559
chocolate box words
betterdays May 2014
these words, i read
in quiet, stolen moments
are like....

exquisite little confections,

chocolates for my mind. somedays,
i am gluttonous and gorge myself.
somedays,
more circumspect,
cherry-picking, those well loved favourites.

some are, cream filled,
sweet to the tongue,
a hit of syllabalistic sugar.

others caramel and chewy requiring more -
a harder chomp,
a grind, a gnaw, before releasing the yummyness within.

then the dark,
the hard,
the bitter -not for all,
these concoctions
but to those who desire,
they become an addiction.

sometimes, there are
those tasted and discarded, not often i will say.
for i love,
the sweet, the bitter,
the smooth, the nutty.

my favourite, favourites have to be, those brandy filled chocolates,
cognac phrases with cherrylicious twists,
aged liqueured thought, distilled with care.
so to taste on the tongue
and burn to the core.
always leaving me,
wanting more...
                          more...
                       ­             more...
betterdays May 2014
i am a rubebnesque
type of women

and have come to
terms with that.

in fact:
i love my good
jiggly self.
did'nt always
but now i do.

generous *******, *****
and curved belly.
all proportionate
and healthy.

my man does love
my curves,
he can spend
hours carressing their
soft beauty.

they do not stop me
from doing most
anything i wish
although
commonsense dictates
i would not fit through
a too small a hole.

why is then, that when
walking down the street,
people feel they can
throw the word fat
my way...
i am within the healthy weight range for my height
but today as i shopped, a woman said to her child,
" if you eat that chocolate" you will end up, as fat as that lady"
...that is just so many ways wrong!!!!!
May 2014 · 570
If.
betterdays May 2014
If.
If my cat could open the front door,
A lion he would be, roaming his savanah, stalking prey

If my cat could speak,
The words of wisdom would pour from his jaw,
sage advice and secrets galore.

If my cat could open the fridge door.
He would in heaven be,
a gourmand in a tatty fur coat.

If my cat could empty his own litter box .....
I would be ever so grateful, ever, ever so grateful.
May 2014 · 514
hang up now
betterdays May 2014
three, one,one am
and out there in the
cold, cold dark
the sea's pounding entreaty
sounds like
god is heavy breathing,
on an old rotary phone.
May 2014 · 1.6k
cloudburst
betterdays May 2014
rumble
grumble
crack
lightning
jagged
sears the eye
plat
platt
  plitt
splat
clouds
burst
forth in
drilling
drumming
rhythm
flinging
water
pellets
at grime
collected
soil
neglected
mosoon season
breaks
the sky
making
backyards
into
squelching
squishy
mudpies
rumble
grumble
crack
raintrack
on
repeat
May 2014 · 1.1k
been a big day
betterdays May 2014
little man,
you have had such
a big day.
all those questions
you ask,
all that playing you do
you did.

a lot of growing
and showing,
nana how big your getting.

kindy today,
cheese ****** for lunch
and baby cannonballs
(black grapes).

after that,
we visited friends,
walked to the rockpools

snacked on apples
and milk
lots of hugging and laughing tickling and giggling.
to smile so hard,
must take lots of effort.
no!

then to eating,
that big, yummy dinner
of macaroni and cheese,
must of worn you out.
even after that,
baby, bannana split
you're not tired?
oh!  it is just your eyes
that are getting sleepy

now to leapad learning and choosing story books lots of things,
ticked off your list

now it's bathtime,
my friend,
splashing and bubbles,
shampoo and rinse.
then some time with humf  and hoot.

cuddles with dadda,
kiss for nana,
story and song,
then, my big boy,
bed is where you belong.
all night long.
mwah from mumma.
australian translation:
****** =sandwich
humf = furry little monster tv show, gentle love each other messages
hoot = tv puppet presenter,
aqua blue and purple owl. takes kids through go to bed routines... helpful to calm little fellas down
i think thats about it.
May 2014 · 583
unforgetable#3
betterdays May 2014
there are a few things,
that are truly,
unforgetable....
your smile,
my friend, is one of them.
thinking of an old,old friend
and smiling.
May 2014 · 630
war(hiaku)
betterdays May 2014
tidemark sandcastles,
beleagared by waves
of white horses,
the war... lost.
May 2014 · 530
back of the line, loser
betterdays May 2014
words fail me,
or more accurately
i fail them.

today ....my mind,
a field unploughed
and me digging,
****-arsing about
with a teaspoon.

forgive me,
my shallow holes,
but you use what
you have been given.

and today, it appears
i was at the end of
the inspiration line..
frustratingly blank, today
so ya get what ya get,
with humble apologies.
May 2014 · 1.2k
bits and pieces
betterdays May 2014
lots of bits and pieces here, bits of strings, pieces of cloth, laundry pegs, handles to god knows what, scattered coins from scattered lands, paperclips, brokendreams, rubberbands, scraps of life
on paper doodled, rolls of film, batteries alive and dead, scary thoughts from one's head, lego blocks, bits of wood, seashells from the seashore, keys from a life before, unknown things, important somehow, jigsaw pieces of a china dove, thumbtacks, nuts, screws and bolts, lists to do, that just did not, lids from old jamjars, spent pepperpots, bright neon plastic straws, words left unsaid, that may have started wars, little stone pebbles collected,
because, packets of seeds, vegatable and flower, the combo to the lock, of all the lost hours,  bits of the times, i often regret,  pieces of my heart, awaiting repair.....
but amongst all this
stuff i cannot find,
any leftover, clarity of mind.
rooting around in the junk drawer of life, always an adventure, not always kind.
May 2014 · 578
mr. ant
betterdays May 2014
mister ant,
on that rubber plant,
carrying a load of cheese souffle.

found on the ground,
fallen from dinner plate
and landed on kitchen slate,

please, do enjoy your plunder
from down under,
wooden table

we suggest it be paired,
with a reisling after airing
if your able.

we hope you enjoy your meal
for your dessert,
we have some fresh apple peel.
we are inundated with  ants
at present.... they come as the weather cools.
Apr 2014 · 338
titled
betterdays Apr 2014
baby....
i don't own you.
but .....
i  have been granted
a 99 year,
freehold lease.
Apr 2014 · 355
definitions(27w)
betterdays Apr 2014
age shall not define me,
never has,
i was born with old eyes.
now my joints are playing
catch up.
but my mind ever childlike
and carefree.
not sure, why we count words..... do we have a limited supply??
i truly hope not!
Apr 2014 · 951
goodbye and farewell
betterdays Apr 2014
you called, i came,
that's what one does,
when a friend,
is terminal.

i watched you doze.
body skeletally thin,
face no longer yours,
more drawn and alien.
skin parchment draped loosely,
on a collasping frame.

quiet i sat,
not ready to disturb.
you woke and smiled,
with effort, moved
to bring me into focus,
you reached for my hand
and beckoned me close.
inside my heart lurched.
"glad you came, just needed
to see your face."
my smile tremulous,
as you gently squeeze my hand,
with all your strength,
"not long"
you sigh on laboured breath,
i nod unable to agree.

you slip back to sleep.
giving me,
momentary grace,
to gather myself,
my thoughts.
inwardly, i mourn your choice to cease the battle,
fought and won twice before,
but,
i know this is my need,not yours crying.
when stronger,  you as always, eloquenty explained your rationale.
battle weary,
knowing the final outcome you chose,
not to walk toward it,
but let it come, without fight,
for you, not fear,
but faith's reward.
pallitive care was all you sought.

the warrior woman,
had put away her sword.

you told me, all this, one day bright with sun,
as we watched my child play.
you ended the conversation with these words.
this is not suicide,
dear girl, but grace.

again you stir and mumble,

" live well my dear one"
"as have you"
my broken reply"
"go, for now there are others to see"

i put my lips to yours,
special in intimacy.
i walk from the room,
your salt tears on my face this will be my last time spent with you,
my mentor, my friend,
my sage wisdom women.

in the garden of death's place
i sit myself down
and water the world with my sorrow.
napowrimo day 30
prompt; write a poem of farewell.
i chose this poem, that i had written, years ago as this is the aniversary of my friend
Rose's death and this poem was written for her.
Apr 2014 · 4.4k
untold
betterdays Apr 2014
untold
joy in the eyes of a child
untold
love in my lovers touch
untold
pain in the old man's walk untold
wealth in the gamblers game
untold
lies in unrepentent eyes
untold
compassion on the face
untold
grief beside the grave
untold
story before the glory
untold
tale before the fail
untold
epics everyday

silent

are the words
of the way

we live our lives
untold

waiting forever
to become

bold
enough to speak
Apr 2014 · 410
Doppleganger
betterdays Apr 2014
Somewhere
my
doppleganger
sits eating
chinese take out
for one
watching reruns of Friends
alone  
except for
the cat on her lap
and the four more
scattered about her flat.
She sits
thinking
wishing
life was different
How do I know this
because
that would be me
IF
you had found her first
Apr 2014 · 867
early morning warfare
betterdays Apr 2014
there is some
uninvited thing
living in our kitchen
gus the little greycat
waged a hissing yowling
war against it at 3am
to no avail
and now sits as sentry
eyes intent.
as i walk past
his snipers position
at the fridge
desperate for coffee.
i know i will
have to don
rubber gloved armour
and go on a recon mission placing snares and bombs but an army of me
needs coffee
to face the tiny terror
in the tupperware.....
and at least
a few more hours sleep.
.....hold your position
sgt guscat.
turned out to be a baby feildmouse
returned it to the wild ....over the road.  
cat not  happy but resigned and bribed with  best lamb mince.
we can all rest easy  now
war averted.
Next page