Humanity

The dreamy clouds 

melt into the diminishing puddle of sky, 

and the blue fades away.

Day dream clouds;

make a wish,

set a goal,

say a prayer.

The God Delusion

God is just an old man, with a back story.

He is comfort food, for the masses.

His fanatical followers, form the cult of Christ,

giving them something bigger than themselves to believe.

God created the earth, so the story goes,

and then waited 4 billion years to create man?

He loved dinosaurs so much, he gave them

165 million years more than man, but who’s counting?

Certainly not his disciples.

He is the all powerful, omnipotent god,

amongst 5000, or so, other all powerful omnipotent gods.

He is so powerful, he can’t stop bad things happening to his followers.

He is known for barely concealed cannibalism, body & blood,

and infanticide, he killed his only son.

He really is a great guy.

Don’t Talk To Me About Fair

I had a mate die of AIDS, Fergus had a lovely view on life,

his boyfriend was a promiscuous rat-face little bitch

and Fergus decided to leave it in the hands of fate.

Stupidest decision he ever made.

My best friend Tom collapsed New Year’s Eve playing pool,

he hit his head as he went down, which didn’t heal as expected,

that tuned out to be leukaemia, which he fought for 10years.

But he didn’t win that battle, and I lost the best friend a boy could have.

I had a lovely friend Simon, funny as all get out. He liked to drink and smoke.

One night coming back home, he woke up in day light beside the road,

pissed off his brain he fell from his bike and apparently hit his head.

He had everything to live for, but that knock eventually caused him to chuck a rope up a tree and jump.

My first boyfriend Anthony, was smart and funny like the rest of them.

He immigrated from South Africa with his mother in his twenties, good effort,

Never quite getting the A jobs, and when he made a supreme effort to get re-qualified,

he failed and lost everything. He drank himself to death as a consequence.

I miss every one of them just about every day. It hardly seems fair that I was clever enough to make such wonderful friends who nourished me, and loved me,

only to have them taken away through no real fault of any of them. Okay, you could argue, but I don’t care about those arguments, I love them and miss them.

And some days I think the unfairness is me having to go on, while they get to rest it out,

me having to do the long haul, when I had the greatest group of guys to do it with,

but no, that’s not how life played out. So, don’t talk to me about fair, as I don’t want to hear it.

Marriage?

We are all sucked into the beginning,

when we all say, "I do,"

but it is how you feel at the end,

that is what it is really worth,

no matter how many jellybeans

you put in that jar.

The 21st Century,

when facts

were replaced by opinion,

which conservatives

would take to their graves

as gospel.

Gay Men

When you have two sticks

which you rub together

to make fire.

Angry Young Man

I don’t know why guys didn’t get the memo,

you know, that it is okay to be men,

no matter who you love.

I imagine the angry young man,

angry at other men being different to him,

or so he would claim,

grabbing me by the throat and

yelling his abuse.

“How dare you not be like me!"

“How dare you make it hard for the rest of us!”

(I’m not sure why) “I hate you!”

I look into his blue eyes

when it is hopeless 

and tell him to let go,

“Be free,”

“you never know who you might meet.”

“The love of your life, man,

just like that.”

“Why do you resist it so much?

Whether they have a dick, or a hole,

what’s the big deal?

It is all the same love you feel.”

He’d spit, and scream and stomp off.

“Love, not war,” I’d call after him.

"Love not war."

"Fuck off," he’d reply

over his shoulder as he goes.

As all he sees is his own pain 

reflected in my eyes.

Growing Up

I was called a handsome young man when I was young

when I don’t really think I knew 

what handsome meant.

People said I was so together as a kid,

an old soul, wise beyond my years,

when I wasn’t sure what a soul was, wise or not.

My mum said I had lots of friends, 

I’m not sure I knew what the standard number was?

And then I got older, and more anxious with so fewer friends,

almost overnight,

it would seem.

And I wish my mum was alive 

to tell me how special I was

just one more time.

Making Friends

I’m not so presumptuous,

so, I don’t make friends easily.

I make friends for life.

Loathsome

Recorded messages that never end

Politicians that never spend

Trolls that never stop

The latest thing that has to be got.

Social media that is never quiet

Business that is never right.

Liars who make the most noise

Stupid people who speak with poise.

Catastrophic news that never yields

Never ending misery for ratings wield 

Inaction on the big problems, our fate sealed.

So many scammers trying to steal.

Conservatives lying to get their deal

We know if they don’t, they’ll only squeal.

Denying climate change is real

Disallowing how people, actually, feel

For no reason other than their chosen god

Deny them their choice and they’ll shoot their wad.

All the idiots on hands free phones

Letting everyone hear their conversations drone

Working mums who feel put upon

Like their children were a mystery from god.

Never feeling good enough

You know, all that stuff

Love Is Hope

The couple walks hand in hand 

window shopping with woollen gloves on.

Scarves and matching coats.

The afternoon is as long as the suns shadows stretch,

bright as though to emphasise the winter cold. Weather irony, behold.

The excitement of the day they carry in paper carry bags they carry in their mitten hands.

They think they will love like this forever,

that life is grand, and that they will always will be.

Just like this.

Love is hope.

Tough Dog, Tough Guy

The guy with the tough dog

on a rope, can hardly cope 

with the mutt’s protestations 

and pulling at its yoke.

But it made him a big man

and got him lots of looks,

even if he had no understanding 

of how to control man’s best friend,

that much was clear.

Those who know nothing, 

about the shark on a lead,

standing with him outside 

the welfare place, 

he couldn’t help but think were impressed, 

you could see it written across his face.

Smoking With The Sisters

I smoked pot with the nuns, before the day begun, 

with jam toast and tea, you know, just for fun.

It was hard work being the wives of god

And they needed something to take them away a lot.

We’d sit in the garden, on the terrace by the pond

Sister Immaculata would be the first on hand

Sister Immaculata, with her two bad knees,

It would always be medicinal, roll away she’d say.

So keen was she, she’d be encouraging me 

to “roll up a good one,” as she liked to say,

before Sister Juanita and Sister Jenny-Beth

came downstairs to join us for tea.

We’d sit in a circle, under the Golden Elm

Juanita, Jenny-Beth, Immaculata and me,

Twitching fingers, passing the dubee expertly

until the very last toke was smoked greedily.

And then we would laugh, oh, how we’d laugh

Juanita, Jenny-Beth, Immaculata and me,

Immaculata would roar, Juanita and Jenny-Beth tee hee

As the tears in our eyes fell into our tea.

“Walked on water!” Juanita slapped her knee.

“Fed thousands with one fish,” Jenny-Beth giggled. “He he.”

“Turn water into wine,” Immaculata laughed out loud.

“Spat in some blokes eye,” I’d say, as I pass the joint along.

They’d look at me, Juanita, Jenny-Beth, Immaculata, all three,

curious looks spread across their faces, I could see.

Immaculata bending her knee, and looking away.

Jenny-Beth clasping her hands, Juanita gazing at me.

Then we’d get back to the business of the day

Saving lives, saving souls, making rolls, making tea

Juanita, Jenny-Beth and Immaculata, and me,

I’d go for a nap, my head spinning steadily.

Detritus

The boy all in black

sits in the gutter and smokes his smack.

He stares straight ahead,

he’d rather be there doing that

than dead, despite what society 

might say about his plight.

He was sure they would say a lot

he was sure they wouldn’t 

lift a finger to help,

because you know it’s his fault.

He wonders about the joy of going home,

even the luxury of going on his own.

Somewhere opera plays.

He smiles at the irony of the day.

Funeral

Usually, one likes to think

of one’s funeral as a 

reverential affair.

Where, in truth,

it is just an hour fitted 

into a schedule

when most people can attend.

What Polly Wants

Polly wants a cracker,

she wants a crack at Macka,

she likes the way he fills a room,

as much as he fills his pants.

She likes the cut of his jib,

she likes the point of his whit,

she likes the width of his shoulders

and the look of his thighs that thrust,

anything but slow.

She likes the kindness of his smile, 

his intelligence beguiles,

his teeth are straight and white,

his personality exudes might.

But mostly she likes his deep, velvet tones

that give her a thrill down below.

Polly and Macka, she says it over and over...

...until it means something.

And she can look up from dinner

and feel something real.

Hey Kids

There are all sorts of people

who make up this world,

some who like guys

and some who like girls,

and some who would deny 

you your right to know,

for reasons they won’t

always show.

You probably should learn quicker

about those with a political agenda

than those who are "sexual benders",

because the people who deny you 

your right to know,

are more dangerous than those

whose love they oppose.

Everybody Loved Buddy

My dog died, my lovely boy,

nearly 12 years old,

people say that is a good innings.

I could have had another 12, easily.

Walking in the street, like I’d be walking with him.

I see friends and neighbours come into view,

they ask where he is, just innocently.

And then I find myself comforting them.

Dog

You go out without pants on

The world is your toilet

You sniff people inappropriately

And everyone loves you.

Exit Blues

The truth about our

high definition,

totally integrated,

switched on,

greenwashed,

shared value,

socially responsible,

venture philanthropic,

mutually respected,

kinder and gentler

world,

is that

most of us still die alone.

30 Years Ago

Marjorie helped Elsie 

In the last years of her life.

I bought Elsie’s house

When Elsie moved out

That was when Marjorie helped Elsie into care.

Then 30 years later, Marjorie started to show her age

And I began to see Marjorie around less every day.

Then the for sale sign went up on Marjorie’s house.

And I realised I’d not seen Marjorie about.

Now I think about 30 years from now.

I wonder if anyone will notice me not around

When my 30 year expiry finally runs out.

Will my Marjorie appear to guide me out?

Love Is Love

 If I love Michael,

and Michael loves Sebastian,

and Sebastian loves Sienna,

and Sienna loves Ruth,

it is all the same love.

What does it matter

if it defies the status quo?

And it isn’t what you know?

Because you just saying,

“It just isn’t right!”

doesn’t make it so.

That is just your

inability to grow.

That's Life

My kinder teacher wore mauve, and had 3 big black dogs.

I can still remember my first day at school, the smell of floor polish, and hope.

I was told I was too old at 6 to learn the piano, it changed the course of my life forever, I feel,

and, I took up the fiddle, why not? Next best thing? But it never got under my skin.

Miss Quan’s dance lessons prepared us all for the end of the school year dance,

formal at the local town hall. 10 year olds in evening dress.

There was the moon landing, we gathered in the big hall, the whole school, to watch it on a small screen teli.

We played in the street on our bikes with the kids in the neighbourhood, all weekend.

Then my family moved house and lives, and I left all my friends behind.

We tried to keep in contact, but it was too far and we were too young.

I was often told I was a handsome young man.

I went to one of the best private schools, and I sang in the choir for my education, every night and twice on Sundays, yes indeed.

That seems like a lot now, too much for a 13 year old kid,

but I managed to say no to the paedophile who drove me home on Sundays.

Many years later, he’d get 15 years.

I remember the department store women all in black,

I sat with every night on the tram on my way home. They’d eventually look out for me. And bring me sweets.

My music teacher told me that I was so together one day in her car. I didn’t know what to think. I assumed it was a compliment.

I was on a bus in New Zealand when the DJ announced the King was dead.

Funny, I always thought we had a queen.

I played in the orchestra, with my viola, for school musicals, it filled my teenage school years

always under the stage, never the star.

I joined the school bush walking club and walked all over Australia on weekends and school holidays.

All the boys knew not to go into the bush walking master’s tent when invited.

Many years later he would kill himself the day before he was to be tried in court for touching the bush walking boys.

Not sure why some boys didn’t get the memo?

I wrote poems out of sight, all through, don’t know why I hid them? Why did I feel that way?

I joined a youth group and we hired a bus and drove to Uluru. American Pie and The 01st of May our only music for the drive.

I remember my mother saying to me that I had so many friends.

One of the best private schools failed me. I repeated year 12, at a tech school, and got high marks.

2nd time’s a charm, as they say.

I was miserable at uni, it was a great big monster I could never tame. What happened to hope?

I got a job. I was an adult with a life to live, not a child anymore? Stupid me.

I went overseas. Did the big trip. I was going to live there forever, never returning home,

until one day 2 years in, I was suddenly home sick and I came home.

I bought a house, I got a dog, I changed the team for whom I bat, as they say,

(although I was always on the other side, of course, I just stopped pretending)

In the wrong career, not a clue. I watched my good choices slip away.

I didn’t know that I didn’t know what to do, so I didn’t.

I still wrote every day, out of sight, still little faith in my talent. I just knew I had to. It was under my skin.

I found my tribe and I partied all night. Living for the moment, hedonistically, you might say. Dance parties. Drugs. Free love.

I discovered pot and disappeared into a Mary Jane fog for twenty years. Content. I treaded water, unwittingly.

I found love. I lost love. I found love again. We bought a house together.

I worked steadily. Lost jobs. Got jobs. 

I learned about maniacal bosses building empires. I got sacked twice. I had an opinion, I was smart. Or was that how I explained it?

My youth slipped away.

My love found a new love, it was supposed to be very modern, and sharing, but in reality, I got traded in.

Forever fell away.

Blink and friends had died, gone too soon. My world shrank. My circle decreased.

I lost my best friend, Paul, to cancer at 38. The greatest best friend a boy could have. When it was hopeless, I looked into his blue eyes and assured him it was okay to let go. Saddest moment of my life. We lost so much.

I found a new love all for myself. We got a dog. Then we got him a friend.

Blink again and it’s all going, gone by so quick. Whoosh. My head spins around.

I finally understand what no dress rehearsal really means. Who knew? They should teach it in school.

Blink again and I feel like I am staring at the last act, just coming into view

Just like that.

Like it was only yesterday that I was fresh-faced and full of dreams.

2022

The 21st century,

Happiness

is a revolutionary act.

Cunt

Americans say ‘cont’,

it’s as though they choke on the vowel,

because the word is just too awful to pronounce?

Too prudish, too uptight, to religiously blight?

Cunt has a ‘u’ not an ‘o’,

you clowns.

Go on say it,

it’s good for when you mean it.

Go on give it a go.

 Love is magical

And elusive to find,

It doesn’t matter if you tinder or grind,

As long as you are honest and kind.

Some people can’t even give you that much

Probably because their lives were devoid of love from the get go.

The truth in love they never got to know

Because their parents never showed them so.

Some of us are luckier than others

Having bright, well adjusted mothers

And fathers who wanted to be a part of the team 

So their kids are free to love and to dream.

Not Gay

I’m not gay.

I know.

You do?

Yes. You said so.

Did I?

Yes, you did.

When?

Just before?

Really?

And just before that.

Oh?

Yes.

Did you ask?

No.

Not at all?

No.

No?

Neither time.

And yet I said I wasn’t.

Yes.

Oh.

It seemed to be on your mind?

Really?

Yes.

Because it wasn’t.

It wasn’t?

No.

No?

Not at all.

Not at all?

That’s what I’m saying.

It’s not what you said before.

So, you say.

Straight Guys

It is in the eyes

They cannot lie

Even standing next to his mates

Or his wife.

He’d give 'it' away.

AIDS slowed it down a bit

There for a while

But the urge is strong

And it really didn’t take all that long.

Before straight guys

Were back

“You’re clean?”

“It won’t happen to me.”

As he’d push me to my knees.

Gay

I’m gay

I know

You do?

You said so.

Did I?

Yes, you did.

I guess, I’m just used to repeatedly coming out.

Repeatedly?

Yes, with everyone I meet.

Everyone?

Everyone.

Why?

It comes up in most conversations.

What does?

What do you do?

Oh yes.

Are you married, is next.

I guess it does.

It does.

You could say yes.

Then it is what does your wife do?

Really.

Words to that effect.

Words to that effect?

Computer programming.

Computer programming.

Where does she do that?

Oh, I see.

Yes, suddenly you are well into the story.

You could lie.

So, you think lying is preferable to gay?

I didn’t say that.

Actually, you just did.

I didn’t mean to.

Most people don’t.

Straight Guys Do Kiss

I have never come across

as many homophobes

as I have straight guys who

just wanted a little passion.

It's Scary

People were once

ashamed of their fears,

now they seem

to revel in them.

They pin that badge

right on their chest,

like that shield of stupidity

will keep them safe,

somehow?

Life

Bad things, good people

Suddenly dead, or worse

The kiss of circumstance 

Life changes irrevocably

Could be anyone of us.

There by the grace of the universe…

Existence is fragile

Some people nudge their luck

Some people crash through.

Some people crash.

That’s life.

Not everyone is forever.

The Good Life

All my life, 

I’ve been waiting for a catastrophe to happen.

Can I be this lucky?

Even Now

Seriously, what are we saving?

A species that always had so much going for it,

but it’s petty jealousies and greed always overwhelmed it.

Even now, when their mistakes are being pointed out to them,

far too many of them can’t recognise that they are shitting in their own nest,

to put it bluntly, as they say.

Even now, when science is pointing out their probable fate,

even now, when their very lives depend on it,

their petty jealousies and greed are getting in the way.

The human race had such potential,

is what their footnote in history will say,

a million years from now,

when a new species digs their graves.

3.25pm, autumn

There is a certain way the sun hits,

when it turns gold in the afternoon

and it is the physical form of melancholy

glowing all around,

filling my eyes,

making me feel all of my life

that has come before that very moment.

Me against the world,

like it has always been.

Bright?

Faith Is...

Faith is comfort in the dark

Faith is crossing your heart

Faith is getting picked last for sport

Faith is knowing you will be fine being short

Faith in being a boy

Faith you can get up and walk

Faith knowing tomorrow will come.

Faith knowing there is no life beyond this one.

Faith is having a life plan

Faith is knowing you can

Faith is believing this is the only chance you get

Faith is knowing that that idea is sweet.

Faith is the prettiest girl you have ever met

Ma fait tourner la tete

She is the embodiment of everything good in the world,

love, as in your heart, unfurled.

Property Developers

Beloved Melbourne

you are a shadow of your former self,

scarred and butchered

by fat property developers

licking up all the tasty bits

like so much roast beef and gravy

dripping down their multiple chins,

as they fart and belch

their own selfish prestige.

Believe What You Want, but Don’t Get Offended When I Call It Bullshit

Jesus, Allah, the great pumpkin, 

the grand wizard Wahzoo,

believe in what you like,

if it means something to you.

It seems a no-brainer,

especially if it is affecting nobody but you.

Strap a turkey to your head

if that is what you’ve been fed, 

indoctrinated since you were young,

since you begun.

Cut off a leg,

if that is what’s going to get you to heaven, 

consciousness, nirvana, or however many virgins?

Wear a kaftan, culottes,

if that’s what you’ve got.

Avert your ideas

to the world of Britney Spears,

it’s as good a result,

as any heavenly cult.

School Boy Boyfriends

Sandy Robertson,

so many years have passed,

since I used to pull you out of

your Trinity uniform,

almost on a daily basis.

“Meet you after school,” you used to say.

You’d smile, that smile which would make me smile.

You were always keen.

We would just look like two school boy mates,

walking out the gate.

Nobody could see how our hearts beat faster,

how our desires led us,

how we kissed each other,

how we tore each other's pants off.

I can still hear your rapid breathing

in my ear. Up on your tiptoes, 

holding on to me with one hand,

while your other hand...

me holding you,

"Ah, AH. AH, AH!"

And then we were done,

the two of us out of breath.

We met up after school finished for that first year,

your place, or mine,

when we had our houses to ourselves.

Then we lost contact.

If the times were different, 

you and I could have been

boyfriends for the world to see?

I followed you from the distance

of the Old Trinity Grammarian.

I hoped you were happy,

I hoped we’d see each other again.

Then your heart stopped

playing golf for a heart charity,

of all things.

Your broken heart.

And I held my breath,

as all those memories of you

flooded my head.

Joan

She told me

that nobody had ever 

told her she was beautiful,

and then she died,

not long after.

I think that is 

the most heart breaking thing

I have ever known.

Lovely Joan.

There is a fine line

between misfortune

and stupidity.

The true hero of the revolution

is that person who dares to treat

everyone as equals.

Children’s Questions

Everybody wants to go to heaven, 

but nobody wants to die, 

so how much do any of us really believe 

in heaven anyway?

Isn’t it just something mothers say,

to get their children’s questions

out of the way?

It will pass and you

will see the blue sky above again.

The ache of death