Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Illusion   Leave a comment

I stream déjà vu, night after night, day after day

repeating every 24 hours with a why in it

and a dull familiarity of repeating monotony,

there is a belief that this is not the first time

do I care what happened the last time

There is an intimacy to this path

but I cannot remember where it ends,

though I have a thought to it’s beginning,

have we met, I’m sure we’ve met,

have we met, we made…

I can never remember the ending

but we have met, day after day,

time upon time, lifetime on lifetime

is this illusion or déjà vu

is there a difference


Posted 22/12/2018 by DarKarsean in Uncategorized

But Every Sunday is a Big Sunday   Leave a comment

Charlie Mingus blows my mind

I’m up to night four of How to Make Gravy

Harley’s cruise in an endless parade

ridden by Main St bikers, not backstreet bikies

The sun is burning, as are our pale legs

Some people are never happy with skin colour

Blue sky, green ocean, white sand

Colour is everywhere on this beach, well most colours

I will soon find my feet to find my car

On Sunday’s I drive from nowhere to somewhere

I wonder if I’m searching for something or nothing

I will drive from old suburb to new suburb to unfinished suburb

All of them, at some time, will once have been “the” place to live

Nothing lasts forever

In the meantime I’m up to pages 496 and 497

There’s sort of a list, an I did this list?

Or so and so came from here list

A words list

Do people repurpose words, does he?

I’ve seen young men clustered on street corners

I’ve walked a city in 9 degrees

I’ve read Walt Whitman

A very straight Aunt once asked her nephew

“Did you enjoy your honeymoon”

“Auntie”, he said,

“I would have enjoyed it in a ploughed field”

She blushed as Woody Guthrie played

Monday’s to Friday’s are busy days at cemeteries

Saturday’s not so

But every Sunday is a big Sunday

Posted 08/12/2018 by DarKarsean in Uncategorized

The Endless Wheel   Leave a comment

The Endless Wheel

Why do we dream of the nature of things

Dream of those failings buried deep within

Where life begins and ends yet on a whim

Why do we dream of the nature of things

Is creation is as creation ought to be

Where new life begins with you and then a me

And where children born to a prison refugee

Will know their life depends on our united plea

Time is like the wheel as time does turn

Important to those without much time to burn

Cyclical to some a monotonous yearn

Linear to others as many wait to learn

Cremated on a burning funeral pyre

Is this the only life to which I will aspire

Or do I rise again from deep within the mire

To live another life empty of desire

I’ve read the books dictated by another

I found their only purpose was to smother

These words of men no room for gentle mother

It’s war or death instead of loving other

To say it’s faith in your belief that makes you strong

I won’t argue with your words if that’s your song

But do not tell me you are right and I am wrong

For you know not my contemplation within this throng

Why do we dream of the nature of these things

Dream of our failings buried deep within

Where life begins and ends yet on a whim

Why do we dream of the nature of these things

Posted 19/11/2018 by DarKarsean in Uncategorized

Climates Walk Governments Talk   Leave a comment

Climates Walk Governments Talk

The banana leaves cannot be used, they have been tainted by rising sea water – there are no bananas. The coconut milk is curdled. The fish are dying before us, the evidence is the lack of food on our plate. We are the cockerel that has crowed more times than three, yet you still deny our obvious truth. You don’t know my island name because I have almost disappeared. You certainly won’t know me when I am lost forever. It will only take a small rise in the Liquid Natural Progression, before we are all gone. We are a family of islands, brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, we cannot swim and there are no lifesavers. Our people are an ocean people, a boat people, but they have been sabotaged like the Rainbow Warrior. It was not necessarily the French. We were told a truth that we believed, but it was nothing more than a cold call scam. Our richness was our people and culture, but the rich and greedy stopped noticing us when slavery was outlawed. Why help anyone when there is no profit. We would welcome you to our home with leis and kind words, even when you thought of us as ‘quaint’. Our hearts were big. We have asked you for help, but we are not too sure – we have seen how you treat others. We have history with the custodians of your land. They welcomed us, as they did you, but you return no favour. Rising from our bed each morning salt water laps around our ankles. You tell us, “just move your homes”. Your ignorance shows, you can move a house but you cannot move a home. You, with your harbour side and mountain views, you, just live in a ‘thing’ – with no heart and no soul. As the water rises, I can feel the cold of the ocean – I pray it is not the coldness of eternal death.

Posted 17/11/2018 by DarKarsean in Uncategorized

Would I Lie   Leave a comment

Would I Lie to You

When nothing is written

nothing is gained,

we’ve seen the devils avarice

consume the soul

of a closed minded man

with a button dick brain

Assaulting our senses

those crowing stories of

vaginal conquests he, feels no pain

thinking smarter than the rest,

reality says he’s a geological flat top

with a tiny closed brain

It’s what men can do

what all men could

and too many men do,

they obfuscate truth, befuddle

the masses, ignore the evidence

then ask the question “would I lie to you?”

Posted 17/11/2018 by DarKarsean in Uncategorized

In the End   Leave a comment

In the End

I was laid on a bed

Because my muscles ached

Because my bones creaked

One day they will be as white as the sheet I rest on

Smoke fills the sky

Ash floats on breeze

Afternoon sun draws through cotton

This bed is warm, this bed is not a bed

After the fire

After the tears

Before the rain

To see a funeral pyre from the inside out is strange

Posted 17/11/2018 by DarKarsean in Uncategorized

Calavera   Leave a comment


So now is the time of the ScoMo

A fair dinkum talking guy

His calavera as thick as his waist line

Rational thought turned to fungi

In the world of political leaders

No one leads a long life

For la muerte will be unpredicted

At the end of a political knife

Posted 17/11/2018 by DarKarsean in Uncategorized

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