anachronoclast's Journal

3:03PM - future echoes

Current mood: contemplative

3:44PM - so much happenin' here...

Coming up this month:

Saturday Oct 10 - my annual "it's my birthday and I'll feature at my own damn gig" vanity gig at the Dan. Dan O'Connell Hotel, Carlton, 2-5pm.

Wednesday Oct 21 - featured reader at a new monthly reading in Frankston. The Prose, Posers & Poets group have requested me to read and do a Q&A for them at Frankston Library, 6.30pm.

Monday Oct 26 - the Prose, Posers & Poets group have also requested that I co-feature at their other gig in Berwick. On the bill with me is the wonderful Alicia Sometimes. That's Berwick Community Centre, 6.30pm.


Also, I gots meself one ov dose blog tings: WaddaMyDoinEre

But not sure what I'm doing with it.

Current mood: curious

1:58PM - didn't realise the second had been published...

But this gives me the happy.

The Poets Against War site accepted a second poem from me last November apparently.

Never told me, and I'd forgotten to look:

evaluation

And the earlier one:

rememberance day


That's all.

yay.

Current mood: chipper

12:31PM

Poetry Reading

Featuring myself & Michael Reynolds

At...The Drunken Poet

Is that a redundancy?

Thursday July 2 from 8.30pm. Includes very open stage.

The Drunken Poet readings are the first Thursday of each month at The Drunken Poet; a funky little pub in Peel Street, directly behind Vic Market.

Poetry, Guinness, a jukebox, pages from massively old comics pasted on the walls of the toilet (well, the gents for sure, not sure about the other)and pictures of poets hung all around the walls of an Irish pub all make for a great night.

If you can put up with my poetry to see Michael do his thing. :-)

Current mood: amused

12:41PM - Acrostic

Looking at self through another’s eyes
I see me as I would have me be
Meeting of hearts as much as of minds
Entwining bodies twinned in soul
Reaching to hold each other close
Extolling freedom, awaiting return
Natural love together as one
Chance brought you and I together
Enrapt it seems that so we will stay

Current mood: enthralled

12:44PM

you saw something between us
that did take its time
making itself known to me
and i now have response
to question you've been
asking
with eyes
and a smile
that i can no longer
prevent
myself from falling into

a bird or two beats
your hand in the bush
but neither can match the
touch of one you love

and i tire of living in fear
and without

so i'll ante up
drop my chips on the table
we'll play the cards
as they fall
win or lose

it's your deal

Current mood: loved

11:03AM

she was walking towards me
on the street
and she was beautiful
her hair
make up
entire ensemble
immaculate

made me stop dead in my walk
to the tram

do no misunderstand
I was not on the pull
did not wish to talk
her into tryst
or otherwise

but when she passed
I stopped
and said
“darling, you look great”
paid compliment to
pertinent aspects
of her apparel

her reaction was one
of such indignation
and aggression
I may as well have said
I wanted to violate her body
right there on the street
when I was done with her mum

and I was displaced
misplaced
within shelly's peach melba hat
except that it was the subject that
berated me
to point of calling police
for crime of simple compliment

in face of her tirade
I held up hands
confessed that while I was
inebriated
my comment
was not meant to
initiate contact
I had not asked her name
and I was heading home
in opposite direction
but that i'd thought
that she was such
and obvious effort made was such
that pause for simple
appreciation
was warranted

and moving on I wondered
why
and I wondered
when
we lost the simple
capability
of simply paying
compliment

and then I remembered shelly
and the snow drop kid
so many years before

and mourned for a time
I am too young
to remember

10:36AM

on cold autumn evening
lone drinker sits
amongst empty tables
outside pub

each passer by spares
him a curious glance
as they pass

he rolls a cigarette
to explain being out
in the cold

writes in his notepad
to excuse
drinking alone

4:22PM - I knew everything I needed to know…

…because he told me so.

At least that’s what the promo said

And growing up I felt I could believe it

He was on the television every night in my youth

Stored his light plane at an aerodrome a mile or two down the road I lived on

I saw him, on numerous occasions, in the main street of my hometown

Smiling, greeting friendlily anyone who said hi

And now he is dead

With his wife, in his house burnt down

Not 15 minutes drive from my parents’ home

But one of hundreds of stories of loss

Some I have stronger connection to

And to all with friends and family

Awaiting knowledge of outcome

I sign off as he always did

May your news be good news and goodnight




http://www.theage.com.au/national/newsreader-naylor-dies-with-wife-20090208-810t.html

Current mood: melancholy

12:50PM - HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

In 2009, anachronoclast resolves to...

Take whitmanschild writing.
Apply for a new time.
Pay for my metaphysics on time.
Learn to play the taoism.
Start an existence fund.
Go to sin every Sunday.

Get your own New Year's Resolutions:

Current mood: amused

4:43PM

Latest edit of an older and much longer poem.

( Evaluation )

Current mood: contemplative

1:40PM - had to share

steampunk keyboard mod is PRETTY!


and also coolest toaster EVAR!


that is all.

Current mood: chipper

1:54AM

let me wake with you beside me
as but a dream
allow me to forever delight
in the desire for your company
let morning light shine not on
mundane reality

for truly the wise do say
may all your dreams but one come true

be for me
my one dream
that does forever remain
unfulfilled
let me love you from afar
let this be that
unquenchable fire

Current mood: contemplative

12:44PM - street faces 4

there is a couple on my tram tonight
they are known to me
not by name, but as faces
that i see regularly in my travels
they sit as they always sit
he on her right side, she...on his left
they never smile

they appear a little alternative
his hair is almost as long as hers
he reads from music mags
rolling stone, guitar
she never speaks unless to respond
to his muted side of mouth comments
they don’t hold hands

they are moving now on this
near empty tram away from the
one person near them
she frowns and shakes her head
they are wearing scarves their
team’s colours flying
i know from the guys at the pub
that their team won
they do not look happy

and now as i walk beneath
trees on this midnight autumn street
from the tram to my home
i wonder
and i hope
that somewhere they have beauty
that maybe they too stop
to kick the leaves

Current mood: contemplative

1:38PM

Serfing my Liege

When first I come home each night
It is your face I see
Your photo displayed prominently
You behind a mic where you belong
And I remember

When I go into my study
I see the painting you gave me
A nude, of course,
Some water colour detail
A female behind, prominent lips
Of a cunt displayed
And I remember

The painter, as well as the poet
The sculptor, too
The guiding hand for so many like me
Mentor and friend
And I remember

And think of memories shared
Of butterflies and ants
Of the power of words
Of a heart so physically fragile
And so spiritually strong
A hand held out to one
Just finding his way
And I remember

That poetry is alive and well
In Melbourne
And among the reasons for this
It is you who should be forever numbered
For what am I but your legacy
Another hand to hold a torch
With your grip imprinted on the handle
In all that I do I honour you
And I remember

With thanks, with respect
And with love
And hold you within me
Always

I will remember

Current mood: melancholy

1:25PM - Street Faces 3

I watch the old wino struggle to search through
The discarded butts at the tram stop
To find some with enough tobacco
To add to the empty pack in his hand

My drunken urge of generosity forces me to approach

I say ‘hold open your pack, brother’
And as he does so
I slide at least 8 cigarettes into it for him

His head continues to hang at an angle
I’m not sure his abused old neck would let him change
I register the drool hanging from his straggly beard
As eyes I’m sure aren’t open enough to actually
Form an image of me
Mutely suggest that the open pack he still holds
Could use a few more

I am at first annoyed at the idea that
Someone with nothing
Thinks that what I gave him
Is not enough

But I smile
Give him a couple more
And walk away

The food in my bag burns a hole in my
Samaritan conscience
And I wonder why

1:22PM - Street Faces 2

The girl at the tram stop is young
Kinda cute
Bit of a hippy

She talks to me of the coal she bought for her hookah pipe
Wonders if the tram will be here soon

She’s a little drunk
Carries her coal
And two shaken bottles of beer
Says she insisted the guy at the shop double bag them
But he didn’t
It broke and she dropped them
From the bike now chained near the stop

She’s gonna leave it there and catch the tram

I pull my canvas shopping bag from my pack
And hand it to her
She demurs
Says it’s too good
I let her know I have more

Then I give her a smoke
We light up together
And talk of inconsequentialities

The tram comes
And we ride it together

I tell her to have a beautiful life
When I get off at my stop

9:53PM

loose button
decolletage unrestrained
temptation beckoning

Current mood: amused

12:40PM - Vale Hone Tuwhare

Poet Hone Tuwhare, one of New Zealand's towering literary figures, has died in Dunedin aged 85. http://www.stuff.co.nz/4359408a10.html

NO ORDINARY SUN

Tree let your arms fall:
raise them not sharply in supplication
to the bright enhaloed cloud.
Let your arms lack toughness and
resilience for this is no mere axe
to blunt nor fire to smother.

Your sap shall not rise again
to the moon’s pull.
No more incline a deferential head
to the wind’s talk, or stir
to the tickle of coursing rain.

Your former shagginess shall not be
wreathed with the delightful flight
of birds nor shield
nor cool the ardour of unheeding
lovers from the monstrous sun.

Tree let your naked arms fall
nor extend vain entreaties to the radiant ball.
This is no gallant monsoon’s flash,
no dashing trade wind’s blast.
The fading green of your magic
emanations shall not make pure again
these polluted skies . . . for this
is no ordinary sun.

O tree
in the shadowless mountains
the white plains and
the drab sea floor
your end at last is written.

http://www.honetuwhare.co.nz/poems.php

Current mood: drained

1:13PM

snow falling softly
on picturesque terrain
my joy shared

Current mood: mischievous

Current music: everybody's talkin': nilsson