adam and eve.

rusted fence dry grass
she sees faces in rain
dark insidious meaning harm
away like a startled bird
he follows dog faithful
broken earth dying trees
there is no rest here
she points to rock
he lies in its shadow
marks old as time
only she can read
her hand a sign
he will bleed

return the egg she says
stars scraping overhead
he whimpers foetal
says the shell is cracked
there is no going back
moon hiding vengeful
they follow in cars
tracking closer
she spits lightening
he thinks if only he
could see as she
the spear might not
have pierced so deep

© shaun patrick green 2013

Ode to Bunnings.

And on the seventh day everybody dies
Drives to Bunnings, pays two dollars fifty
For a feel-good community-conscious sausage
Trying to remember what it’s like to be alive
As we wander aimlessly from aisle to aisle
Drilling team members on pergola construction
Concrete mixing, baton fixing, soil acidity
But the staff are no use – they’re zombies too
Sold their souls for that red shirt/green apron
Combination that makes them look like Xmas trees
With their lifeless smiles and their heads on TV
What did we do with ourselves on weekends
Before “The Block” turned us into the renovating undead?
Did we find morons interesting before “Big Brother”?
Did we “drizzle” or “plate-up” before “Masterchef”?
Still there is the pull of this big tin shed
Where gift cards buy Own Brand power tools
That die in our hands after a month of use
No matter, kept the receipt, return for exchange
Our shoddy sander tipped in a dumpster with others
And sent for ‘recycling’ to China where it was made
A self-inflicted vicious circle: our need for cheap
Thrills keeps us shuffling over their concrete floors
Nothing new, of course, stole the idea from Ikea
At least in Bunnings you can find the exit doors


© shaun patrick green 2013

Five Lessons.

Teach me to love with a gentle heart
That I might accept your faults and mine
Be not quick to judge and given time
Understand how to be together when apart

Teach me to kiss with gentle lips
Rather than consume with selfish greed
As if all that mattered was my need
A thirsty man gulps - a sated man sips

Teach me to speak with a gentle tongue
Not to hack and slash with words as swords
But to empower, ennoble, encourage, reward
To honour the dead, to inspire the young

Teach me to touch with a gentle hand
To stay the stinging blow, the angry grab
The derisive gesture, accusatory stab
Instead calm, befriend, help others to stand

Teach me to be all that I am not
Open my closed mind, push me further
We have the rest of our lives together
Just as well for I am a slow learner


© shaun patrick green 2013