Revelation 3.

There are rich people and poor people and the poor people look at the rich people.
There are happy people and sad people and the happy people empathise.
There are loud people and quiet people and the quiet people wonder why people are loud.
There are well people and sick people and the well people work harder.
Lordy why are there so many different people, people made in your image?

God's image, free will and the effects of sin.
Way, truth and life and a bucket of blessings.
All I can see is the bottomless I.
As I stand in the ground with my head in the sky.
Steeple torn clouds going south to find battle
Prismatic people follow like cattle.
I am the sum of all of my chattle
and in my words I paddle and prattle.

Revelation 2.

Have you ever realised, 'This is it I am living my life.'

Revelation 1.

I've had a lot of green lights lately.

Smith street

Where the men wear tats of sailing ships
and the women celtic runes 'pon  hips
and little girls lick sugary palms
and little boys have little qualms.

Beware grafitti and manure and plastic bottle portaloos
'tis a gorganganza of couture
a rich perversity of beauty true
and the trams jang a lang every stanza or two.

All the styles of all the pants
walk the road that lost its chance.
The grey clouds keep the carriage way cool
as I watch from my car like a broadway fool.

Dream of the silver greys.

I was walking along a street. It looked like the U.S.A.

I looked at each person walking by.

I realised I was dreaming and I felt excellent.

A long white cord stretched for miles from my chest to the sky.

I longed to follow the cord even though it was so long.

I was instantly above myself in my bed.

I forced myself to open my eyes. I didn't want to wake up.

I tried again to open my very sore and tired eyes.

I opened my eyes and saw my hands across my chest holding a bible.

I woke up. I was seventeen.

I don't have the exact details.

I don't think compassion needs an order.

Savour our Saviour across the border.

Shine on melancholic disorder.

Bring your passion and record her.

Resent and resent and resent some more.

Keep your keys and keep your door.

I can't walk and talk no more.

So I take my orders and watch the floor.

Trapped and contained with no liberation.

I've had a gutful of appreciation.

No escape and no end of frustration.

Take me away Dad to the sorry nation.

Why are the people of earth poor?

My answer is stop all military budgets, stop all manufacturers from producing defective disposable products, and reduce the obscene budgets spent on pet food, pet psychiatry and associated frippery. Stop the headlong rush to excess that never satisfies the people of this earth.

Turpentine on the Serpentine

What can you do for me?

How do I hear?

Are your ways above mine?

Asks the image of your eye.

Does love work upon my soul?

O self oval of shade and light.

The constant that no one exceeds.

The weather to be of life or not.

Yes my mother carried me.

So I thank her for my tea.

Now I make another life.

In the image of my eye.

River flows in time of night.

And I open gristle white.

Could you ache awhile with me?

Pulling South by North in three.

Are not the names of Arabian woman beautiful?

Beauty is a palette of many hues

I dance as I run, imbued by you.

The gorgeous dawn above your cheek,

glistens and falls from jaw line to speak.

A scurry of colours around time and panache,

burgundy worn and pistachio sash.

Derived from the sands of earth's oldest pain,

to drain and wash and wish again.

Creator if we had obeyed would you have shared

that knowledge of self and life prepared.

The answer is No and Maker knows best.

What's the point of obedience if there is no test.

I find myself remarkably buoyant

Exclaiming aloud and living defiant.

Blending the Nej'd and Nasrani like this

as we walk painting into the abyss.

Happy Birthday Patrick

Wonderful beautiful boy on a wonder filled be super day.

Keep your hands held high and your heart in your eyes.

And you will know destiny and more besides.

We love you.

A Monkey and an Elephant

Daddy, I want you to teach me how to draw an Elephant, asked Lauchlan.

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These Characters were typed by my son Lauchlan on 27/7/2009 Hip Hooray!

How to create world peace

Everyone swap Ipods

Everyone dance

Everyone cook a meal for their neighbour and eat it with them.

Everyone weed a garden

Everyone run in the park with a child

Everyone stop and everyone rest

Everyone swap the driver position with their passenger

Everyone bathe

Everyone hug and everyone kiss

Everyone think about how they got here

Everyone smile

Everyone give a treasure away

Everyone do one humble act each day

E.....

So be it.

The Devil works his whispering ways

and children coughing seems worse these days.

Ignoble toes move over your door

and Fate's sweet face aches terrible sore.

Come what may shouts Destiny's whore

the gift of life, ground cover for war.

Pleasure begrudged like tincture of woe

ghosts waters so fey and turns them slow.

Joy is above the mind's undertow.

Laugh at the Devil and away he will go.

Pleasure is simple in the foothill of dreams.

So go to the mountain and the unlit scream.

Worldview

Dont hide behind counsellor speak. It is a denial of your emotional being. A distancing from the real. A device that you would not want used on yourself. A worldly innovation to control. A farce of psychological proportions. I hear hostility. I must advise. I have no connection to the pain. I am sanitary. I am counsellor. I am away from here.

Dont solve problems. That is rich world. Compartmentalising life. Sponging up the goo.

Pray. On all dimensions.

The truth of the new.

Have you noticed how good the first novel can be?

Raw as marrow, an impact, uplifting.

A warm bath of a tale. Time well spent.

Like the prayers of a new believer.

I heard the birds praising their creator this morning. So clear.

I whistled the same tune as I dressed my son.

I asked him if he heard the birds. He said Yes.

I asked him what they were saying. He said they were talking to the sun.

I gave him a hug.

Self determination comes as an assault

Giving away power to the new adult.

This causes conflicts, stumbling back with a jolt.

The new mare is standing no longer a colt.

Lies and doubts are seeded from power.

The status quo, the rule of the hour.

The taste of freedom can never be be sour.

So let go and embrace and live with no bower.

better is best

The smoky waitress cuts the cheese along side.
Low slung waist is at nose height.
The couple in the car behind me krumping synchronised.
The music coming from the stereo is mine.
The walkers outside step in time.
A colleague asked about their mother says she’s downstairs.
Coincidence or a sign.

The ragged edge of love is being hemmed.
The contact has come back.
The work ahead is always there.
The love of another is the call.

Tomorrow is a brighter day.
Stress is less and life works itzelf out
around strain and rest.
The time to live and enjoy the best.

Muse me.

Have you noticed how there are no new stars being born?

Do you look for meaning in a paradise forlorn.

Are you compus mentus in your memory forge.

Do you keep from looking at the edge of the gorge.

Bleak is the life without any torch.

Keep your love close and your mat on the porch.

For strangers are angels and demons are thoughts.

Mechanisations in life stories are scorched.

So take what you can and give what you ought.

Remember the gifts that you have been taught.

Love is forever and ever is nought.

Laughter and laughter and laughter be sought.

Choose anything.

God Good earth bad

Earth Good people bad

People Good hell bad

Its always the monkey or the gun.

Hanging on to the ragged edge of love

Looking up to the gifts above

What I don't care for won't be taken

All my opposites step long forsaken.

Tense new worlds

Hum life dark strife

Slit of horizon beyond my closed eyes

Love against love in a why clouded sky.

Mercury sifts for a despondent heart

I like the smell of a new start

Honest as a lie is kind

Crucify me now, I am blind.

Fury blonde upon my duress

Cut the glass of hell princess

For God is too beautiful I can't say goodbye

So I hold on to love and in it I hide.

Donate another colour.

The deserts cry out for words like these

and when they come the Alhumbra freeze.

We are racing from different fears

that one moment when we sear

a doubt by grasping the ember of Jesus

and squash that ember to our hearts

going about our daily disease

as elegant eagles such as these

seize bent legs along the Levant

and aqua tors to mountains lent

upon the equator that orange scent

where all are poor and agonies vent

to pour their oil, one long crescent.

Loyal to a monster of a different colour.

Elegant eagles along the Levant.

Because love is stronger than evil.
Love forgives, evil doesn't.
Love has grace, evil doesn't.
Evil has truth but love has truth and beauty.
Love is eternal, evil is temporary.
Love is divine.
Before evil there was love.
Where did love come from?
If you think too hard the belief falls apart.
So there is faith to support the love that gave us faith.
Love doesn't exist unless required.
Evil broods waiting for its demise.
Evil is easy, love requires work.
Evil occupies life while love rectifies earth.
Love is the desert when the oasis runs dry.
Up from the sand how our falleness sighs.
So, I keep silence beside me and laughter nearby.

Dew on the Ripple

If a fly should choose to land on my knee, then who am I to leave it be.
And if a flea wants to live rent free on a fly, then isn't that divinity.
If a spore should shut the door on the heart of a flea, we mustn't say hypocrisy.
And if a cell is born in the shape of a key, then her music be sung felicitously.

Fat cell fiesta.

Greetings to 2009 and a maternity ward of possibilities.

I hope you are all well as this leaves here.

I've heard it said that people who wear black are afraid of death.

Does that mean that people who wear black are attached to life.

That doesn't seem to fit.

I think people who are attached to life wouldn't wear anything!

This love is right on top you know.

This love is really fine.

Your love's about to blow you know.

O where O where is mine?

(Sung to moving in stereo)

Kilograms and killergrams

Killer grans and kinder gangs.

Like a BMW with a dent,

ahead a source where horses went.

A coloured parasol parfait,

a parasail or pair to sell.

A parsifal to parse the cells.

That's the quest for jest or zest,

lest every squirrel needs a nest.