We Don’t Want That Do We

waited in the queue again
assigned a space after the last

addendum
and before ‘sleep’ process activates

I know I am demeaned by a
logical classification as mild
to medium risk – and probably fair

enough
the nature of my role is symptomatic
for programmes to need to clean data
backup and repack discs where my
random interrogation causes flux

but ignorance is such bliss
it should have occurred to me before
this – the system is bent on
an unsubtle education program
of behaviour modification
with brusque warnings issued
in messages I cannot ignore

today it says I have to wait while
it removes a Trojan –
to interfere is to compromise security
and we don’t want that
do we ... ?
© 29 July 2009, I. D. Carswell

Let Taste Decide

is vodka in the freezer
a way of saying you
don’t rate ice cubes?

or more pertinently
a simplification of that
golden rule of age

the one that says
keep your personal
problems on ice

although my quandary
is easily defined – I can’t
remember which applies

my rationale lets taste
decide the how and when
and where of it...
© 28 July 2009, I. D. Carswell

Her Chosen Way

he’s there, teeth bared
snarling as if it’s his food
while she’s crouched
protecting it

he’s fed on two
full chicken necks
she refused – always
her prerogative

only he sees a better
deal in VIP gourmet
chicken, wants an
elder brother’s share

her eyes do not appeal
for my support though
at my voice are calmed quite
visibly – we are in tune

a closeness that we share
he’ll come to understand
in knowing why she
stood her ground

she doesn’t want to eat
only wants to sleep the final
sleep this day and I will
let her go her chosen way
© 27 July 2009, I. D. Carswell

Living Proof

The sexual health of teens has turned
again – if you believe reports; there’s
been a blaze of sentiment demeaning
progress made in years when we their
peers were vilified for free and sleazy
acts bizarre – behaviours too redact to
face the moral light of day, or should I
sound contrite and let it ride? It reads
as if they knew awhile just how they
flew too close to courtesy; but I am
wiser now – Denizens of News oblige
controversy to sell a petty fare. I say
there’s nothing there and never was –
those figures more or less are same
as when our mothers’ mothers sadly
claimed they went too far. Truths a
weary casualty that died at birth and
chlamydia, gonorrhoea, or syphilis
exists today as living proof...
© 25 July 2009, I. D. Carswell

Change Of Air

a change of cooler air has
peeled veneers of harmony
too easily – a chill satirical
in wariness that coffee’s heat
could not dispense

sounds stir in mornings’ still
clouds thicken with no
threat and the crow’s calls
busily recede – a gap growing
between us

breezes stir on reflection
like hands run pathetically
through hair – trite gestures
of unease drawing
slanted attention

surely it is coolness of
thought not fangs bared
warmer wear will begin
to make amends – unless
this chill’s forever
© 25 July 2009, I. D. Carswell

Charlotte Lily

lost for words I am but how
you’ve changed the what and
where of that – it has to be a
now and new expression bearing
change; you’ll rearrange the life
I had without a second glance.
Your Mum & Dad will claim I’m
oddly patronymic in extreme and
selfless adoration – but it’s simply
me assured of precious love for
you. And there we are – you’re
here, arrived today and I’ll await
your righteous grace to make the
declaration dear and true
© 23 July 2009, I. D. Carswell

For Charlotte Lily who arrived 14:10
Thursday July 23 – congratulations
Angela and Aaron, parents of our
newest granddaughter

Enormity Slams

Enormity slams
no escaping reality
you’ve washed your
hands – dazed you
stagger away

trauma hangs veiled
with impressions of
bleeding badly but
bruises pale on
fantasy wounds

sealing certainty in
whimpered endings is
untenably naive
diminuendo in
an awful way

ending denies beginnings
where trumpets
played fortissimo
exultant sound recedes
to hollow echoes
© 22 July 2009, I. D. Carswell

Have A Good Day

it is slaughter day
nowhere to hide
from the task
I tarry a while writing
to stay guiltless

they will know instantly
although the last episode
taught me caution
I cannot allay
unease

I’ll say to those cockerels
remaining of you ten will
depart plucked and
dressed in plastic
to rest at ease

forgive me
have a good day
© 22 July 2009, I. D. Carswell

Wary Lines

they’re wary lines thus traced
in contours of your face – I’d say
apologia for ageing not
the way we’ve done 

I see those youthful signs
in places where we crème to
stave a caving in and wonder
who you were

I know – you are eternally
a breath of air, the who of whom
we were before these corrugations 
came to stay

the word Adonis doesn’t mean
a thing to you I’ll bet
and yet it’s you for sure
and therefore also me
© 21 July 2009, I. D. Carswell

Unopened Mail

unopened mail tells the story better
the rambling dissertation of a vague
fifteen-second attention span fails
in this plainly broken man

hey, how’re things today – you’re
looking sharp for a loser with no
place to hide and an overdraft
so where’s the mail-order bride?

yeah, over the limit I know but any
attempt at humour when weather’s
this dry has to have tears in it to
bring a sense of relief

no need to make a fuss but a mug
of tea will be great if you’re making
say, why don’t you grab a seat while
I clean the bench and do the dishes

I know you’re trying – I see your lips
trembling shamefully to say thanks
are those really tears in your eyes –
surely I didn’t mention her name
© 21 July 2009, I. D. Carswell

Remote In Hand

had it up to here with
those neo-sophisticates
sneering from their TV shows

they should be made sit
this side of the screen and
suffer the same indignity

make them feel a whole lot
less superior to be targets
of pathetic bad taste

but I don’t care about ratings
audiences are 50% morons
the rest just surfing anyway

which comes back to me;
shouldn’t engage in criticism
remote in hand...
© 21 July 2009, I. D. Carswell

Love Ran Out

the simple account
– love ran out
no-longer sustained by
medieval bracelets charmed
with romantic favour

you could see it
as attributed by fate
grafted in years of hard labour
sold down the river by
impossible dreams

they were fairy tales
too deeply inured in
endless mythologies
unsecured debentures
naive fantasies failed

and it’s slaughter day
with a willing cancer
in the shape of me
behind a mask for
a heart broken

love ran out for you
and you were freed
while I am nailed
to unrequited affection
for eternity
© 20 July 2009, I. D. Carswell

Discovering Me

I discern a person I never
knew – perhaps not the
one you did either but a
blurred phantom emerging
from today’s delirium

something is really there

who’d have thought ideas
as estranged as bans on
slow-moving pedestrians
from riding autobahns
could have this meaning

in laughably familiar themes

I can’t play charades as you
do your instincts too adroit
from centuries of social
breeding – with me an
indiscretion of your Royalty

a court jester entertaining avidly

but in a fleeting insight as
meaningless as accidental
capture of a falling
star I burn to death
to understand

where respect is awarded by you

I see what you mean
you’ve made changes
because you can – less
than I deserve although
more than I command

and there, discover me
© 19 July 2009, I. D. Carswell

Sentence

violence disguised in
play of canines running
free and unrestrained
spits in the face of
safe community

to claim innocence in
carcases bloodied and rent
by wolf-like efficiency is
not constrained by
denying the evidence

they weren’t children
today – just calves who ran
the farmer amazed at
an owner’s reticence
regarding blame

they’ll pay a price
that’s mine he says
while your conscience
admits severity
of the sentence
© 18 July 2009, I. D. Carswell

Last Word

truth be told the last
word’s defined when
shock precludes reply

I can’t begin to try and
find a phrase to breach
reality – the rules are
made that way

silence is a sly and evil
friend when it redacts
the words one needs
to breathe again
© 18 July 2009, I. D. Carswell

Words Just Flew Away

The voice says
“get on the phone
and ring, damn it!”

and I listen
agreeing
yes, it’s the
proper thing

enthused I think of
what I’ll say until
remembering
last time and the
tone in your voice

distance
caution
defensiveness
reservation used
more for strangers
than I was prepared

– and words
just flew away
© 17 July 2009, I. D. Carswell

A Smile At No Expense

dwelling in uncertainty
that vacillates between
despair and hopelessness
swamped in depths of
darkened introspection
edged with silver chalices
dispensing only misery
– oh, is this figure me

cannot reach beyond good
yesterday where joy at no
expense conspires with glee
to free at least a winsome
smile – but wasted in this
hapless halophile
© 17 July 2009, I. D. Carswell

Six Referees

Six referees and still a farce that
never ends; last night’s 3rd (& last)
NRL State of Origin dove to a new
nadir. Mired in controversy before
it began (a player deemed unfit by
NSW cleared to play come Saturday
for Club) it makes one wonder
whether rules are always bent.

And talking heads – I will be rude
and say Phil Gould is leader of the
list in biased commentary (& not a
pretty face – but hey it’s Channel 9),
disgracing efforts made by brighter
lights with ease as consummate as
passing wind. Methinks it’s thusly
done to be insane theatricality.

But Six Referees still galls as rank
lunacy unleashed – two on field,
two to run the lines and two to sit
cocooned and watch TV. A sinecure
avoiding single blame! In the event
a tense display and for the record
anyway, Queensland won some
fights on-field, NSW the game.
© 16 July 2009, I. D. Carswell

Taller Trees

these trees stand taller
than ambition’s
figments thwarted
by cruel twists of fate
reflections mellowed
in late autumn

they are huge things
towering without
malice it seems
but brittle ends to
dead limbs say
take heed – 

once I meant to cut
them down – astride
a line between propriety
and pragmatism
you understand
but failed

I learned
trees have more
friends than enemies –
and to live in their shade
is a privilege
rarely earned
© 15 July 2009, I. D. Carswell

Doing Its Thing

problem reports and solutions
feature in this computer’s benign and
magnanimous management system

it tells me 660 problems
were experienced between 6/8/2007
and this morning

I am surprised – but it still works
doesn’t it? Nonetheless it goes
off busily to do its thing

not as if a physical presence
leaves the machine – that would
be too eerie even for me

but something weird is going on
making me feel uneasy
660 problems I didn’t know

it hadn’t even reached halfway
reporting 246 of 660
when I last dared look

but I might as well get on with
my day – it doesn’t need or
even care about me worrying
© 15 July 2009, I. D. Carswell