Poem Number 98 - Kora - 22/5/1986

I’ve had a few ”K-niner’s” in parts of my life,

They are all the same (in which one comes in order of first).

There was tiny little “Bobby”,

When I was young, I could hold him.

And then there was mongrel “Rusty”,

Who’s color seemed so rich.

And then there was “Cindy” whom was as she was,

She would never stop being loved by us, all.

For nearly two years this 'Kora',

Who to me is small for a German shepherd?

It also was unique in her own way.

She has tender skin, where she might lose hair,

And she has not dug into the garden for four and a half months.

Now, since mum has been back from overseas,

She cultivates the garden and also alongside the driveway.

Yet she’s cute with her greetings at the side gate,

There’s not once, she’ll stop jumping up and down,

And smothers me with licks,

And leave her hair on my shoulder.

Poem Number 97 - Overseas Maker - 22/5/1986

She was away for such a long time,

To see her native country and relatives,

When she left, last year in December,

 Shedded a few tears, so I could remember.

She left to Paris with Anne-Marie,

So that she wasn’t by herself, there.

Poor Dad had been left with me!

For breakfast, supper and tea,

Although, there were a few rough times,

My father treated me, oh so kind!

We knew we had each other to put up with,

But that feeling of real ‘father-son’ came up.

At times, I was amazed to hear the encouragement,

That he was presenting, all the time to me.

I thought he had changed being a little lonely,

But that was not to be.

The last week before Mum arrived,

The arguments were being lashed at me.

When mother arrived, I was there to greet her,

And cry with happiness in my eyes.

She had not looked tired, but overjoyed,

To see the three of us waiting with glee.

To be back home, where the cows go to the paddock,

And to express and show pictures of her trip.

Those four and a half months, that went past,

For me, the time seemed to linger on…

Yet now, only weeks away,

No questions asked or answers for Mum. 

Poem Number 96 - I Will Not Let Go Of Carla! - 20/5/1986

Poetry is a description of intermingled words,

That may mean hatred or love, from one’s past.

Its’ styles reflects the characteristics,

Of the one who’s trying to express him or herself.

They may not anyone’s head or heart,

But should represent, such creative art.

It doesn’t matter whether you can’t understand,

Turn to the next poem and read with all your senses.

My girlfriend is extremely good with my poems,

She can read in between all the lines.

Yet, many others do not bother to read,

As they feel no feeling with any line at all.

Yesterday afternoon, Carla rang me (being so excited),

She can now leave each and every female's harassment behind herself.

To a job that will pay her a lot more than what I am getting,

In an optometrist’s surgery, “Reading books all day.”

Oh, how pleased I am, as well as proud,

For her to do herself with no thunderous clouds,

And to act of more than an adult,

With a girl that is trying to over run Carla’s life.

Oh, how warm is the soft feminine body,

Fitted across my overgrown chest.

How the soft kisses I presented to her,
Give her a tingling sensation on her neck.

With comments of romance floating in the air,

I touched her lips to reach her brown-bushy hair.

Our mouths meet to express, of true feeling,

That no words can be expressed to say much to each other.

Carla! Carla! There’s one thing I would like to say,

That is, “I will not let go of you, Carla”.

Our relationship is now coming to six weeks,

And all I would like us to do is to each other speak.

Now, I know that you have told me, that you don’t know me,

And that you may go out with another guy.

If you are already going out with one,

Give me more time for me to spend time with you.

If there is anything that you want to say to me,

That you wouldn’t tell your mother, father or even Maria.

Don’t be afraid to tell me!

Otherwise, you will remain as a closet “unopened’!

There will be times, when you will want to be alone,

Don’t ever close the light, to end up in complete darkness.

Look around yourself, to whom you are speaking too,

Whether it is Maria, Debbie, John or mother & father.

Anyone else that may brighten or enlighten you,

Speak up to them, let out what’s inside you,

But listen carefully, do not rumor, just confide,

For it is the trust of words which endears a relationship.

A good woman, you are so much,

Don’t lose what you can touch.

Keep on smiling with what is yours,

Otherwise, others will take you along a wrong tour.

Poem Number 95 - Pretty Girl - 19/5/1986

Hello! Are you there pretty girl?

Do you hear my heart beat, pounding?

To the sounds of a fifties rock and roll band?

Can you imagine me standing up, oh so tall?

Oh, how I miss you being with me, now?

Is it true? Is it true that your love is with me?

Oh, how your voice sounds so close to me,

Is it that you are standing right behind me/?

Oh Carla! You’re so sweet, imagine and of course a mature woman,

Is there anything you want in this world besides being so loved?

Isn’t it great that you are starting on your footsteps?

Climbing and climbing the steps that your parents created?

Now, you will be another workingwoman,

Don’t you feel joy, within your physical body?

Isn’t there anytime in this day, that you don’t like?

Is there someone who you think annoys you, in anyway?

The barriers that are in front of you,

Will not vanish unless you help them too.

So, get your strength together and fight for yourself,

For you are just like anyone, within this human race.

God loves you as much as you love him,

Tender romantic hearts will widen your life.

To share what you deserve to share,

That being; friendship, love for parents and close friends.

Poem Number 94 - Strange I Feel - 16/5/1986

To be seen, there’s no city from two hundred metres,

All around me, while I travel on an autobus.

Just inches away, sit people I do not know,

Yet, outside this autobus is the world we live in.

The same trip in and the same trip out,

Is there anyway that these trips will eventually stop,
to be no stops, no traveling and no people around?

I cannot answer that that is decided by others.

Yet, we all run everyday to meet our daily requirements,

To do what has to be done or what’s not to be done.

Is this human rat race coming to be exhaustive?

Though people don’t give a damned, of themselves?

The chances of survival, every single Australian has the opportunity,

To what advantage they use their time, brain and direction.

Affects each one of us in every single day, that is lived,

No matter whether, we all fail or all succeed, we would learn from each other.

Strange, I feel that I don’t know these travelers,

Strange, that these travelers don’t know me sight.

Yet, the people I know don’t travel in the same,

Maybe new explorations of relations to others.

Why there are unanswered questions of lives?

When the single life on earth is a beautiful creation.

Life is such a wonderful experience, we all go through,

Making new explorations of relations to others.

Maybe there are answers to all questions unanswered,

Maybe there are questions to be answered,

Well, each one of us know the answers to our own true life,

But we cannot supply all others for others. 

Poem Number 93 - Love That Relieves - 15/5/1986

As the lights dimmer down,

To show the rat race, the darkness,

He ponders in his thinking,

Of such sweet, good times.

Spoken like a poet who knows what love is in all mankind,

If he could only take her on a deserted island,

To dream what all other people dream with patience,

And to life, bear children of God, in such a place.

To plan and architect on the small island of love,

To share the fruits and vegetation with his woman,

To build and construct from wooden trees around,

To commemorate the likings of all human beings,

“This is the world that he loves.”

To govern and ensure that all plans go ahead,

To agree and disagree with the woman he loves.

To brighten his way of thinking to his loves,

To not be selfish to his woman-love, at all.

To understand the standard of living, in this deserted island,

To utilize natural resources to meet only the real needs of man,

To cherish, take care and look after woman-love,

To more than like, not hate but love your woman.e

To her, she should assist him in duties as per her knowledge,

To her, she will provide the other half, of the love,

To help her man-love, build your home “abode”,

To make her man-love look upon her, as a true woman.

To say what is needed to be said, for him to listen,

To encourage strength in her man-love through goodwill and support,

To enjoy the fun that lies ahead, on the deserted island,

To home man-love, for the rest of the body; relive him with “love”. 

Poem Number 92 - So, It May Be - 14/5/1986

Every time I want to think of you,

Every time I want to feel your hand,

It’s a feeling of long, long strong love,

That’ll keep us together unless we one day part.

Is there love, hope and prosperity at the end of the tunnel?

Are there any mystique questions and worries in our mind?

Have I taken the deepest plunge into the sea?

And tied my hands up, running into it…blindfoldedly?

The answer is “No,” as I don’t think so,

Yet, I’m not so sure of anyone’s future.

At least, she represents herself with great personality,

Her looks and impressions are perfectly beautiful.

Being just over a month since we’d first dated,

Carla says to me, that she like me so…

Would like to live with me so…

And keep on going out with me so.

The first night we dated together,

I felt she felt that I didn’t know her weather.

Yet, even at the third date, when I dined with her all night,

She didn’t like the crowd she was with, then.

So, I walked her outside the Bowling Club,

Once, twice and finally thrice.

As she wasn’t too pleased to be around, at this time,

I decided, I’d take care of her and bring her to home.

Oh, how I think of her by night and by day!

If only we both could afford to buy and live in our own unit,

To be sharing most probably the best moment of our lives.

But I wouldn’t do this, unless we’re both legally tied.

So cheerful and pleasant are her golden brown eyes,

Her figure, a figure I would like to share with myself.

With the warm-bodied blood of hands,

Like a heat burning laser; rising from beneath our bodies.

A woman is a true woman, who doesn’t hide from you,

Who’ll be supported and also supportee by a gentleman,

If she has friends who knock her to the ground,

She should forget of them and herself stand proud.

If she lives with strict wonderful parents,

She should comply with their demands.

As she who misleads them,

Will be defending her own war, on her own.

Respect! And there shall be,

The rewards of one who wants to lead a life free.

Disrespect! And there shall be,

Pressures and no, good personal results you will see.

Repair the damage with any of your elders,

Don’t let your man, be it who it is,

Interfere with your family’s problems,

Unless, he listens and only suggests or advises.

“So be it, may!”

Or “May it be so?”
Or “It be so may,”

Or definitely “So it may be!”

A few nice words mixed with pleasant dreams,

There is no means for anyone’s guiltiness being felt.

So Carla, Carla dear,

Read; listen closely to see what you near.