Mel From Melbourne - Music & Words

  The Sun Rising   & so she was naked with me & the air was crackling with electricity there were no games being played it was need & giving & our bodies were moving, We didn’t worry about the rising tide the waves could come in but we inside a forcefield of intimacy & sweet sweet desire, One said to the other Many years ago When I talked on the swings With my boyhood chum We talked about our crushes When we were 16 & now nearly 40 years later it’s as if I’m still on that swing & she is entwined around me & in me & under me & on me & I haven’t feel so wild since my first teenage kiss & the Earth rotates Donne said: “this bed thy centre is.”     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

  Love Sex Beauty & Desire By Malachi Doyle (with Max Sometimes)   A chat led by me but enabled by the responsiveness of Max Sometimes who inspired me to get my thoughts down, in the hope that they might be useful both now & for future generations. Moments earlier I had opened up talking about myself. Max thought it interesting & useful, so I pressed record & the following morning transcribed it. I have italicized Max’s words, which steered me to my previously made points.   So, What we were saying was That beautiful women & love & desire   “Not all…”   &   The sacredness of sex   & that   I only really wanna have sex When the moment & the energy & the chemistry Kind of leads to it   So then it’s actually meaningful   But then On the question of beauty & attraction…   … see I think I go around life Not looking for relationships Longer term nor casual That’s the last thing on my

  Good Friday   It’s good Friday today & I feel wretched I don’t know whether I took my meds today. It’s ok I’ve taken em now. But really it’s the cigareetes who care can’t take care of myself free free bird fried rice. Drink drink the Sim Sim fruit & obsequious & tight wheezing when walking. I don’t each that much & yet I’m an old man. I wish I had’ve gone to see Len today. The day got away from me talking with my housemate. We talk for hours. It’s great but striped & wheeling around & you didn’t drink pink water. My stars. My stars. Swollen & entangled in Jesu Krishna so you know it’s like strawberry icecream I crave. But the supermarket’s close & I couldn’t be fuck anyway. This woman was gorgeous. Wow. It was like emerging from Plato’s cave into intel. So save me Jusus like love you. Bring me out of your cave on Sunday because the crucifix is too dismal for a post-privileged mouse that roars.   Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

  Easter Poem (with my 90 year old homegirl Mary)   When one is desperate One is not much fun It’s hard to make small talk When you’re desperate When you don’t have enough to eat When you have run out of money Note I don’t contract when I talk It’s hard to be entertaining company Other than the car crash People like to watch car crashes They like to watch what’s left after a car crash Brain juice on the road Broken corpses Blood lust Just like they loved to watch public hangings The guillotine they all cheered When people were killed They jeered the condemned They like the spectacle of death A social death is quite similar To a physical death They like to watch that death too Someone broken Someone beaten down by public opinion Baying in the marketplace for blood That’s human beings & we forget that & we talk about yunno Progressive & humanitarian values & all that kind of stuff Sounds good in a meme Soun

  No theme in today’s show & tell   I’m tired of the Global North. I don’t want to look at photos. I just want to write my poem. & then she said & this is big: how do you take your tea? She had a beautiful body. On occasions you could see it through her clothes. Then I took the dogs for a walk & sang a song for the birds. To show them not all that’s human is scum. Best to let your guest add their own milk. I’m back. Next is a dance for the finches & wrens in the garden. Apparently you can only prepare a garden for small OR big birds. Because the two won’t co-habit. The big birds bully out the small birds. The landlord has created a garden for small birds. Either consciously or unwittingly. Anyway, I’m glad. Though I half expect Bunjil the eagle to swoop down & steal a wren, in sore need of focus. There once was a cat named Rodg & he drove a car through my house. As it was to catch a mouse. His back legs were all shot. Coz he grew up in a lab & was ge

  Blood Sport   Well it was a lovely who? I knew her too. We played scrabble & kept things narrow – talking a blood sport in this age of Aquarius. Why didn’t you raise it with her? you ask. Well I said it was a lovely who. Implications of not wanting to spoil the cup of tea & pretty company. Ah escapism, our religious observances in the affluent west. Then my father’s ghost as in Hamlet. Not speaking of his death. Just a reminder to get my end wet. Strange advice from an ex-priest, evidently he’d suffered enough fools. I said thanks dad & we parted on good terms. Hence I made small talk about who cares because my mind was on sex. One must be cynical in today’s politics. They string up idealists. My 8 th life corpse is still hanging in the southern breeze.     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

  A Dark Day   I’m lost With no Beatrice Anima To lead me out of Hell towards Heaven It is dark inside me I can’t find the light or even the tears Nevertheless, finally after having had my heart broken in half I’m no longer in love with my ex-wife Hate rises in my core like a volcano I’ve always been a lover But I’m feeling particularly uncharitable today Like a man named 13 I am a convict in leg chains I frighten the birds & the beasts when I appear I do not trust my self control That I mightn’t do damage For too long I have put others ahead of me Fat load of good it’s done me As Dylan said “I offered up my innocence & got repaid with scorn” So watch out woman, man! Unless you wanna get taken down!     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

  Whiskey Sam There was a yes there was you know why or how thinking is right & just because 4 square & balls & the ocean kicks off the toaster the dogs sunning their something or others like mine with this 100 dollar bill. Who guessed my thought was it me or a past or future sock puppet & why did people think it funny not scary not true mere truth the thing we spend our morning running away from & running towards flickers of the palatable. Then the hero was pulling up her socks & talking incessantly strange phantoms of crystal. It wowed me & someone said put it in the 3 rd person so it doesn’t rankle.   Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

  It’s not a long line   It’s not a long line The bleed of A war with canonical Is long lines By a thousand cuts & changing one’s inner music I am a child of the plane Flying at 12 o’clock  I love space It is my face I have a tundra Between my ears I am a deer Sent on a ship Across the waves Ill suited physically But temperament wise I am Antipodean & more rest Between tones & shifting time signatures 2024 2 score & twelve.     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

  I was naked today   I was naked today & baying like a wolf I tore the flesh from bone 100 miles from home One wanders alone Since one is alone One sets up camp Wherever one has roamed Anaesthetizes with the holy spirit But the demon comes whispering blood In this forest For the firebuilders to conquer I wish Armageddeon In the first world Coz the third’s known it for centuries They stole the men & women & threw the children to the seas Man is waged in a demented fight with man & you are a river of ice They killed the wolves Once they coopted gunpowder & how to feel like the apex of nature When one is endangered by mediocrities with lies When the lion & the wolf are frightened by the lamb Because the fields are ruled by a clothed man’s law He has his weapons But his wisdom is shot In this battle of wits The wolf wins by a lot But man’s violence is not survivalist He feeds not, he destroys The myt