Live Forever

When you are young inside it

You think these moments

Will always live forever

Waking in the van still stoned

Her naked body beside you

The sound of waves breaking

Smell of warm meat pies

Cracking that first beer

Dawn creaking like a behemoth

Over the still frozen horizon

Walking along a deserted beach

Like the last two people on earth

Music everywhere and shells

Like bright brittle currency

You don't question your worth

What you're doing where you're going

You just are fundamentally you

As you understand that to be

Later there may be revision

Comprehension of complications

Extenuating circumstances

But when you are young inside it

You think these moments

Will always live forever

© shaun patrick green 2012

Dream Into You

And did I ever dream into you

The possibilities of our life

With moments of joy and bliss

Moments of darkness and light?

And did I ever dream into you

The ugly person that I am

Not good in the fragile mornings

While you are awake at dawn?

And did I ever dream into you

The practicalities of living together

A man with a fetish for cleanliness

A woman with a penchant for mess?

And did I ever dream into you

The depth and sway of my love?

Because if I didn't I have failed

With my only witness heaven above

© shaun patrick green 2012

The Butcher

These streets are packed with flesh

He thinks worrying about refrigeration

Don't want it all going to waste

As the gutters fill with blood

Doing what his father did and more

Knife in hand to cut the brisket

Hands bone dry from all the washing

So as now his wife wont touch him

She so averse to the smell of sinews

How the hair clings to his fingers

Still slice, dice and wrap it in paper

How he came by it doesn't really matter

There's meat on every home table

And the streets are better cleaner

He often feels a pang of guilt

About being judge juror executioner

But with the bellies of the townsfolk

Full of quality free range red meat

He knows what he is doing is acceptable

© shaun patrick green 2012

Darwin

mangroves hide the shoreline

and the possibility of crocs

one measuring 4 meters made

its home under Nightcliff pier

still people play on the beach

and surf fish as if they are

immune or touched by the heat

the lure of cool blue water

being too much to resist

this city balances on a knife

humidity heat and commerce

make for an unstable mix

Europe and Asia colliding

and not always meeting

white fella law seeing itself

in an indigenous mirror

innocent or guilty without peers

there was the bombing during WWII

downplayed by national media

to avoid mass hysteria

left the city bitter

then Tracy came and almost

wiped it off the map

you can see the determination

in the eyes of those who survived

this city is at war with itself

beneath the wealth dwells a fear

both colours trapped in a dance

that will scar the landscape

gouge mountainous dreamtime furrows

carve new and dangerous estuaries

where the barramundi will die

and the great spirits decide

who has the right to dwell here.

© shaun patrick green 2012

list

the sun on the windscreen

the knowledge you've gained

the film you wanted to make

the winter your dog died

the vibrating petal

the missing finger

the laughing child

the blood on your shirt

the way the curtain falls

the sleep you've missed

the staring clown

the receding sea

the lack of hair

the boats in the desert

the key to the door

the sand between your toes

the face at the window

the broken heart

the bird with no song

the song with no words

the house on the corner

the man in the blue suit

the girl in the red dress

the way your name is said

the drugs that work

the role you played

the game you didn't win

the warm summer rain

the fondue that didn't

the size of your shoes

the size of the sky

the taste of her lips

the joy of the sugar rush

the playground at night

the fear of beards

the lure of the road

the way words deceive

the junkie begging coins

the music of the spheres

the wallet you almost stole

the fun you wish you'd had

the fish caught in the net

the bleeding nose

the day when we met

© shaun patrick green 2012

the gun

it was always there between them

hard and cold as a promise

hidden in a shoe box in the closet

contingency against unwanted interest

"love, I would never use it - trust me"

those were his words in earnest

though she knew he was lying of course

had already shot two dealers

and there were others to be sure

bodies strewn about like Easter Eggs

to be dug up by over-eager kiddies

or health freaks walking their dogs

no, she thought, carpet has its uses

sweeping as much as she could under it

still there was the matter of the gun

much as she tried it stayed in place

heavy smooth deadly as a dying sun

dragging all into the collapsing orbit

of its machined killing perfection

© shaun patrick green 2012

Think of Banking as Russian Roulette

He was a roof tiler tanned chocolate brown

By working outdoors in the tropical sun

Baseball cap, cheap servo sunnies, tats

Singlet, thongs, shorts too long

Thought of himself as a small business man

Who knew a thing or two about economics

"Think of Banking as Russian Roulette."

It was a statement rather than a question

As if he were giving examples of how well

Violent analogies work when trying to explain

Market vagaries and economic inequality

"You put the bullet in. That's your savings."

Except that a gun is a mechanism

Not an institution listed on the stock exchange

Which needs to justify its profit margins

To its stock holders on a regular basis

But yeah I can see how the analogy works

"Then the barrel gets spun. That's investment."

I can see how on one level investment as a gamble

And the chances of getting shot in the head are

Matched in levels of danger as one can often

Lead to the other but the analogy is breaking down

"Others bet on what happens when the trigger's pulled,

That's called hedging." Yeah, hedging your bets

So the barrel has been spun, the gun is cocked,

Bets are placed on whether or not this poor sucker

Gets their brains splattered all over the hand-crafted

Mum-and-Dad investor table 
(Telstra share owners beware!)

"Then the trigger is pulled. That's the payoff."

So, if you didn't get a bullet in the head

Then you are substantially richer, none-the-wiser

Free to take long walks on beaches with your dog

Until you choose to load another bullet in the gun

That might just be the shot that kills everyone

© shaun patrick green 2012

quiet

it was the quiet disconcerted her

she held his hand like an object

feeling its smooth unfamiliarity

though they had been married ten years

his body almost totally unknown

him breathing hard like a diver

trying to understand depth asking why

she feeling she should have an answer

perhaps a simple man deserved that much

but it was profoundly beyond her

thinking back had she ever loved

even at the altar the emotion didn't well

in her breast as her mother said it would

she just stood rabbit in the headlights

while it all happened beyond her control

the kiss the honeymoon the house the kids

a perfectly staged play directed to script

her life lived by professional actors

she only a half-tix cheap-seat spectator

sleep-walking into somebody else's dream

who was this strange man who came at her

each night smelling of sweat and beer

who were these children who demanded

to be fed clothed cojoled into bed

when did these banal domesticities

begin to redefine her inner soul

who is she in this moment now

telling her husband it is over

all that living together was a myth

they will simply have to get along

separately somehow

© shaun patrick green 2012