"wild abandon"

a state of being I have never experienced
or understood
but, about which I have always wondered

are the practitioners crazy?
have their springs popped?
have they stripped their grey gears
smooth and loose?

wilddddd.....abandonnnnnnn......!
(this is as close as I have gotten so far)

what would it be like?

to dance and bay, naked in the moonlight
to bellow bawdy songs at stodgy functions
to snarl and sneer like a rabid raccoon
just to annoy non-practitioners of the art

pink-a-thons

fat and sappy
pageants of pity

ending,
so ironically,
in beseeching prayers

...for more, and more
researching cash!

I see your face
in the morning light
clouded with doubts,
left unspoken
as we face a tempest,
threatening to sink us
in a sea of insecurity.

Don't fell prey to the malign
spread by hearts riddled
with cancerous envy,
trying to lead us astray.
Listen to me and believe,
for you're the only one
who possessed
my heart,
my soul,
my body
all surrendered to you.
Search your heart,
you know this is true

It may not be high class,
but there's value to keeping a spot in the gutter,
to throw your guts up into on a Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday night;
Thursday I brush the rot out from between back teeth,
spitting out broken bone fragments,
swirling down the drain with the excess of saliva and blood;
It may pay off to maintain this stance of confidence,
sweeping the room for the sordid affection I crave,
just for the night, just for this moment, I'll be gone before the dawn breaks;

Being far from life,
a heartbeat is stilled
the mortal shell is shed
as the spirit ascends.

In the absence of pain,
it's a child with the wind
formless to the world
rose bud opening

Looking at freedom
is warmth on skin
invisible scream
and hope born anew

For after the touch of death
in the binding silence
it finds itself engulfed
in serenity.

.

Mrs Duncan sits in her wheelchair
letting family and friends
press food into her hands,
and tissues to her dry eyes

a single framed photo
graces the polished sideboard.
his long, gentle face, surrounded
by cards and flowers,
smiles out at those gathered there

Mrs Duncan seems indifferent

their youngest daughter, a black beetle,
scurries between kitchen and lounge room
with plate after plate after plate
of food

activity keeps her from screaming

They say alcohol makes all things better,
I hope this is true; as I drown my sorrow in a bottle of liquor,
Drink till I black out; and shut my mind,
But the more I try to shut out;
Thoughts of you,
The more I see images of you,
Your beautiful face and divine smile,
Can a visage so pretty camoflage such bile?
My heart skips beats,
Every time I see you,
Till I fear I would die of a heart attack,
Let me apologise if you think I hurt you,
(I'd apologise even if I didn't hurt you),

Whispers in the dark leaking from the window
revealed treachery of which I didn't know
I kicked open the door and my heart bled,
seeing two bodies entangled on the bed

My lover's face now masked by fear
while an old friend cowered in the corner
How long have I been a fool, I wonder
but the answer doesn't really matter

Laying down in this field just resting.
Resting from life’s riggers
just for a minute.
But never to rise again from an eternal sleep.
A green blanket tucked about their heads.
So many are they now.
In their counting that inevitable question,
When will I increase their
count by just one more.

Why do you cower and hide?
Stand up and change your life!
Whining changes nothing!
Its sickening, irritating!

Show me your mettle, man!
Don't tell me its the end
you're neither spineless
nor are you brainless

Stop wallowing in self-pity
making yourself feel empty
when you can strive harder
be wiser and stronger!

Cowardice doesn't suit you
doubts will only stop you
when you should move forward
to be free from the hurt