Thursday, December 26, 2013

A Parting Wave

Brighton Beach 1953


One night you fled to high mountain passes
howling winds adrift with snow and ice
body broken betoken of empty fields 
In the valley below
The ‘lights went out one by one,
and darkness all around’
bad dreams phantoms screams.

Your powerlessness that night
set the flame to burn unchained,
your wounded angel-wings
    carried you
cold ashes
of a friendship finished 
that night
you embraced the divine spirit
in the full moon.

* * *

Highroad Blues
             (what price the passage?)

this road I’ve travelled with you
had many blind turns and twists
the beginnings long gone
          with the dead
beginning back as a young buck
sometimes it seems
           its all 
       just dreams.

fear was a coat I often wore
        (for protection ?)
as if I needed it or maybe I did
but that’s context dependent yeah
you know that better than anyone.

what can I say but only what I know
no oblique allusions of sensibility
even if I was so inclined
no boasts of refined affinities
no bullshitting of how much I care
when often all I want to do
              is get through the night  
and into another day
fighting nightly
for my life in dreams.   

Me Too
      for Dick Mendola, dec '13

desolation angels
holy ghost

bind my days up
I got them black snake

* * *

Blues for Shelton

you were like a beautiful flower
the colours faded a little
bringing out your delicacy

magenta of the Tibetan steppes
that was the garland for you
though of course you were Welsh.
there was a fragrance about you
that lifted the senses in company
awakened the lyrical soul  
seemingly effortlessly
like an eagle cruising
who knows
up there with my other bro
from down Lake Condah way

tonight we wont say too much
of the Dark Angels proximity.

* * *


been feeling good lately
but not without neurotic episodes
scanning bottomless subterranean streams
of mind
and phantom connections
hidden in nostalgia.

a breeze carries the night air
through open back balcony doors
sharing the silences
feeling solace in distant sounds
In the darkness the breeze
feels good against my legs

I’m doing ok I could say
hard times and joys along the way

my mind wanders lazily
down old trails of memory.

the radio plays
          ‘All You Need Is Love’
beyond the hills a jet plane is landing
stirring old familiar pain
the way old songs will play a movie
in your brain.

 * * *

Dec 8 2013

33 years ago
I was sitting alone drinking
in a bar in Carlton
There were three or four others in the bar
It was a Tuesday afternoon, a quiet day
I was only just starting on the day’s boozing.
Me and this other guy, a hippie tradesman type
we were watching the cricket on the television
Neither of us had spoken to the other
I got off the stool and went for a piss,
When I came back he said

             "Some turd just shot
             John Lennon dead!”

agh FUCK 

Karl Gallagher . . .


Anonymous said...

Karlos, give it up man, throw in the towel; not in your wildest dreams could you call that 'poetry'. Stick to painting.
Lazy-eye Leroy.

Anonymous said...


Anonymous said...

that is some great writing there man.