Wednesday, December 26, 2007

The Key Cat Hole Call

Shhh! she probably
Being an immature
Know nothing know it all
Will not want to fall
Realising how her company
Were keeping her poor
Through accusing her
Of abusing
While playing a victim
To her good will for
Connecting the calling
Of all with want to bring
An end to their own victimising
By the birds and the bees
Placed together minding
The law
In Kinship
Even science by finding
The only escape of death's claw
In this story of the educated poor
Is by acceping having caused

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

The Poem Nobody Wants But Everybody Has

“But Rebecca doesn’t have any money”
Said my father
To my lawyer
On the telephone
Over the care of my children
His tomb known
For his words accused me
Within real causality
And he angered with my lawyer
For having let me hear him in
So go to hell with me
Tony
That’s my Dad
aka
But would you believe
Who else is the infamy of my father’s real story
The reason we are all so sad
Is not exactly at all because of that fact which my Dad has
Accused of me
Just a related fact
Causal to that
Yet Dad
We all expected better of you
And I heard you
Expelling your breath
Improperly
So know that your conscience was crossed
But how can that be Dad?
So obvious so sad
So malicious and fat
Is it any wonder we’ve all been had
By the causes of the lies at
What you claim has no real way
But of they
Their bad majic tricks
Were always at
And neither believe I in their tricks Dad
But I deny any true benefit through using of their boot
While today I heard you Dad
And there can’t be forgiveness of that
Which your body
Too sad
Did not but go along with
The treason of reason of what reality might be
When accusations have causality
Of the future
Then all life becomes sad
So I’ll buy out Christmas
And give you in it
To my children
For your house is no winner
Once accounted in debts
But these here owing only
To me and my children
Is my Dad
So everybody else whom ever had
Of my Dad
That he can’t now remember
How to breath with clear conscience
Will have to face me
Face the horsemen of the apocalypse
Face the Angels of the Grave who within this be known
And most of all face
My Dad
The beast of the Earth too bad
Upon Bhyame’s grave be
Forgiveness made
To Dad
The head on the coin
Two sided a round be
Me and my Dad
But your counting upon that
Be debts to the Earth which
In this will I hold to account
In my knowledge of how set up he is
So far as to the tune of the signing of the documents
Of national importance
Were timed to his retirement
As though to blame him with
Not having been who has worked for it
The Kyoto protocol that is
Australians bound through
With my Dad
Of his real initiation remembered
Are we believers forever still glad
Had I said I was Bhyame’s daughter
Now that would be just too sad
That his blame was
Why I could not
Yet thus caused of
So remember this Dad
Hell just ain’t really too bad
Is just the bit between
Life and accepting it
In which we suffer all our defiance of
What we have been
But wasn’t it you all along I learned these lessons from
Along with
Those whom can know you
As indebted to
For saving this daughter
From the fate like you
Are Christmases forever what children remember
So believe me Dad
You were always too sad
But what child wouldn’t give for Santa for a father
Will it be thus here after
Named in Arabic more neatly
But who was it that did the deed
And whoops was it me Dad
Did I do it too you
Which might be OK since
The staff of Moses
Shirt of Joseph
Seal of Solomon
All three ready and waiting
But who are you really
Dad?
Not to worry
Most of us fell just a little bit
Into that yolk
Of the fate that comprehends an antichrist
But was it really my Dad?
The repository for all that has been too sad
Might commence some mighty exorcism
Soon I hope for my Dad
And all of us who know better than
To let our minds wander into what might have been less sad
So swallow your lot
For today is the day
In which tomorrow be made
And my Dad?
Well, maybe he really ain’t that bad
No worse than
A crown of thorns
Which Adam did have