Mel From Melbourne - Music & Words

  Eureka   Through the icy early morning of grey moving clouds & still, bare tree branches, either the illusion or a definite vein of blue like a gold prospector too long at the ground he dreams of golden citadels But when dinner time comes coz darkness falls it’s muddy water & damper one meal a day He starts to see things, which has a double meaning to see more clearly or to hallucinate who can be sure? This time the morning has indeed lightened it WAS blue afterall that now has grown, a strange relief & lightening of one’s breast, but hubris can easily grow in that fertile field & all its future Eurekas’ produce: weeds & rocks     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.  

  Help me Jesus   They come out of the blue These moments of acute anxiety When I feel like I’m on the verge of breaking down & then they die down But they come back Now is a bad time I’m beaten low I feel disconnected from reality If I go psychotic There’s nothing worrying will do about it I’ve just gotta hold on Maybe up my big meds & not just the small meds & pray & rest     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

  On the ropes   I’m 53 years now Kicked repeatedly in the womb of my mother & I’m all outta fight I balance PTSD, schizophrenia, severe anxiety, OCD, mania & depression For which there is no cure I was destined to land in war zones most of my life You know what I’m scared & tired I might be spending the rest of my life trying to heal & find safety I got no other plans I got no beef with no one Still people come for me I’m an open book Though if it endangers others I burn those chapters I saved the lives of 10 people in a fire from 4 different religions Still people wanna pick me up on every little thing I’m sick of having to defend myself It was easier when you used to get mugged I persecute no one Haven’t we got other better things to do? Than carry out the ruling class’ divide the people amongst themselves over colours of running shoe     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.   ...

Winter & the Mind   Sleepy day Mozart’s 40 th  on the stereo Sausages & onions baking in the oven To be eaten on soft white bread with grain mustard & sauce Accompanied by one Cooper’s stout Hearth blazing Hot water bottle at my back   Yes My anxiety is severe & I have moments when I fear another psychosis is coming But I’ve been living with it for so long I can still laugh about it   The strange duality That man can possess When so absurd is life That even in the pits of pain Ah! pleasure sweet pleasure can gain     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

  For the sake of decency   Confusion is Rarely Cleared up Via Text Message   I Normally Avoid Poems about technology But it barges its way into my life   Sun lit white cockatoos Look creamy clean after the rain They’ve even shut up   About to go to a white people party I’d better eat up beforehand   I could give a fuck About whether or not this is a sonnet But I’m gonna leave it a line too long For The Sake Of Decency     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.  

  What Citrus means to Winter   A bag of ripe mandarins Is a jewelled possession   Hand peeling an orange Is like undressing someone As they undress you   Sucking a ripe lemon In an open attitude Opens possibilities further   Winter is the season of citrus When millions of hand-sized suns Take up the reins of the solar system & Winter sun Is a hibernation wakened prayer   The pure drops of Winter Are drinkable in a small glowing glass Through the miraculous grey   Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

  Our Town   Such a pretty town. So people in the town revealed nothing of themselves & spent their time gossiping about those who did. Evil spread in people’s hearts. You could see people hiding everywhere. A man went to the bottle shop each day at 11am striding & smiling. The straight faced townsfolk hated him. They conspired a steady barrage of hits & gossip to try & break him & make him walk in shame. But he just swatted away the hits & went about his business openly. The hatred only grew. The witchhunts that had previously been directed towards freethinking women were now directed towards freethinking men. Or was that true. Hadn’t it always been thus of freethinkers, whether female or male? It was a town that demanded conformity. The invading culture that established this culture was founded on prisons. & so the culture would persist indefinitely. It’s principles of ‘watch your back, keep your head down, keep your mouth shut, trust no one, ...

  Don’t!   Don’t ruin where the mirror of rage smashes the face of all those bitches with arrogance man I’m tryin to heal & the knives are out for me. When you’re in pain they come for ya coz they hate to see you laughing through it schoolmarms in country towns run the pubs like the classrooms the entire town went to. Never been nowhere never taken a risk. Never met no kings. Never met no queens. Never saved anyone’s life never lit a Molotov cocktail never even grown toe nails you drunk how dare you don’t hide you’re high! They want you to try & disguise they want you to live in shame for having an unusual brain they don’t want you to have read 100 philosophy books they want you to be like everyone else like that’s the way it has to be in this age of categories of diversity. Keep your head down. Watch you back. Watch what you say like good prisoners of mother UK keep going on the sandwich man one on the top & one on the bottom make it on the street for everyone...

  Giants & Dwarfs Blues   I’m so much better when I’m in love With a broken heart I’m a mess Isn’t what all the blues songs are about I’m wild, I’m way beyond sad & ready to attack coz I tell ya I’m a bear tired of being poked What do they call it passive aggressive People thinking they can hide I’m not into that middle class shit You wanna fuck with a blues man Be prepared to be hit Howling from the bottom of the ocean To the tallest tower Coz all you dwarfs greedy for power Can’t cut a giant down     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

  Everything that goes up   Everything that goes up Must come down After an unnatural high Comes an unnatural low It was wild & kind of great Injurious to conversions with gnomes But to borrow from the Pixies, gigantic Still I’m glad I’m on the ground Some people’s grass is too strong I was hurtling through space Out of touch with the planet Hurtling through space & rotating As if gravity didn’t exist Now things are slower Thank Goodness & a Mahler slow movement is playing     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

  I don’t do things by halves   I don’t do things by halves Hand peel the orange Till it’s all quickly gone Don’t upset an autistic boy’s mother Even by accident & her crocodile tears She thinks “great Now I can really carry on & I’ll be in the right” Ah melodrama The boy will take it to the grave Though the mother is now laughing about it & then the bystanders get involved My great sin Asking her “so how are things?” To which she rejoindered “You can’t ask me that!” & it’s like Pope’s World War III People now are very sensitive for themselves & very insensitive to others Everybody’s been categorized Even though the human sciences Are based on a leap of faith Unprovable hearsay Autism was first diagnosed in 1943 My God how did we cope in the 2 million years beforehand! Medicine & Science feeds on itself Lurching from one guesstimate to the next When the guesstimate is guesstimated to be false ...

  Like a 19 th century flying machine   Glad the mania has passed In a world like this it’s not tolerated & relationships are damaged People have a hard time with mental illness They can’t really get it that you can’t help it & they do not see how careful you are In reducing the effects If you’ve never known mania Then it’s hard to understand Some people have never known ecstatic states They only know one speed I have difficulty staying close to the ground Always in danger of taking off Like a 19 th century flying machine     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

  5 stoned poems   People who don’t like you Don’t know you   --   In what law does it say I must be serious xx Why can’t I just sing Why do I have to speak xx   --   You’re completely wrong I agree with you   --   I’ve got one We’ll go to the Flower Drum The best Chinese Restaurant in Melbourne High end With the most attentive waiters I’ve met & talk your cack about China, nuncle xx   --   Depression acceptable Depression manifesting as mania unacceptable – Australia     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

  Mental Vomit   I have no scenario I’m just in a stupid mood. Apparently you’re not allowed to use that word in schools. If a kid is cutting someone’s hair without the person knowing, you can’t say “you’re being stupid.” You’ve got to say “It’s inappropriate” or “It’s not ok,” like manbun in that government ad., where the knob ending is talking smack about his wife & manbun says “It’s not ok.” & that’s it. That’s all he says. He doesn’t extrapolate or anything. Just a manbun disapproving & then moving on. Anyway this isn’t funny. I don’t know why I’m giggling. I’m just a stupid idiot. As Richard says “You’re off your chops!” haha. I like stirring the pot. It’s good I think, to see masks drop & poke taboos. How can you write & not get beneath the surface? Anyway this is kind of tedious. Oh man I had a good breakfast. Bangin. One thing you can say about me is that I can cook. I remember living with Tim & Sally back in the day & Sally said all I...

  Blindness is seeing   I spoke with you all night via the phone Today is a thrilling day Even the type keys feel alive to the touch Slowly writing this poem I am alive I just want us to take our time So slowly Slowly I’m not even gonna commit it to words Till the time is right With longing With aching I understand How Yoko & John Felt like two virgins We have not yet even tasted one another’s lips Even that I wish us to pine for Like it’s the universe’s first ever kiss Oh my God! Hurry I’m not in a hurry I will meet you when you meet me Like snails do Like we’re seeing for the first time Like we 2 both are blind     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.        

  Short One   Another mother walks in and dummies her baby Mate go live in China If you believe in censorship & oppression A crying baby doesn’t bother me It’s a sound of life We should look up to As an example & a reminder     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

  Birdsong (for Perry & Colleen Holt) It’s one of those beautiful days for the birds Between rain showers & still Birdsong ringing across the distance The birds are keeping up their end of the bargain But not us people & if indeed all life is one great organism I feel the people are poisoning it What with our scandals & gossip Our avoidance of existential questions Our starving & killing of people My God how conversation is suffering We seem unable to talk with one another We think we can disguise our truth & get away with it But you can’t fool life & the birds know what one another are saying They alert all creatures to danger They’re cooperative Sure some of them fight from time to time But they don’t film it & gossip about it Once it’s done it’s done All living things are indeed part of the one organism Generative & decaying life goes on But people are not keeping up their end of the bargain ...

  Please don’t let me be misunderstood   It’s a lonely road being intelligent life experienced & well read yet still an open book. One feels very lonely & the likelihood of being misjudged by the crowd. & the crowd gangs up. The old Frankenstein conclusion of lonely bad, friend good. I speak as I can. I’m not strategic. I am seeking emotional & intellectual intimacy with most every encounter. But people fear me or hate me same thing often. I believe the problem most crucial on Planet Earth is loneliness. & so I speak freely of my self, believing that if we were more open, people would feel less alone. You know this Western Model of saving your true self for your home & acting the bonhomie in the world is increasing the rate of suicides, homicides & people dying of despair. No nice cadence. My lonely tears end this poem.     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

  The suffocation blanket   The learning of PC diversity language Or euphemism!!!! Allows bigots to disguise themselves better Mate, it's what's in ya heart that matters! I’m Irish we’ve never been PC Anglo-Saxon reserve is responsible for the deaths of millions & millions of people 150 years ago it murdered a million Irish slaves from deliberate starvation So save us the lecture The Irish swear, drink & talk openly  It’s my culture We fought the British Empire & won So fuck off Don’t come the raw prawn Save your crocodile tears for your kind Leave me out of it Coz I will defeat you in logic, knowledge, experience & love     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

  Rimbaud was big on a disordering of the senses   Rimbaud was big on a disordering of the senses for the poetic journey but he quit scrivening pretty early People should know that he took off as a young man & ran guns in Afrika instead If he were around today I’m sure he’d be diagnosed But quite frankly everyone gets diagnosed these days Part of the reason why the disordering of the senses is so necessary The advantage of playing with one’s brain chemistry is that we see reality from different angles Under different conditions Else one gets mired in groundhog day Good for a banker Bad for a poet Particularly considering both the runnings of our days & the medications we take Do much to limit possibilities for receiving multiple angles of reality All those runnings are based on a Confucian/Conservative belief That a straight line is better than a fluctuating one Of course there is no one wise beyond value judgements   Publis...

  The young of Castlemaine   One really boring thing I’ve noticed since happening across people in their 20s in Castlemaine, is how melodramatic they are. Like most young people since the 50s, they think they know it all. This is nothing new. What is new is the ease with which today’s young find offense. Often about something that has nothing to do with them. The other thing I’ve noticed is the way their groups all join in with the opera. “Like the Italian soccer team” Max chimed in, diving & writhing in mock agony. It’s kind of strange being in my 50s & being more outrageous than the young. The social engineers in charge of education have done well. Docile, timid, ignorant & overly sensitive. The perfect people for the powerful to dominate & control. Anyway, not my problem. If it’s not against the law then back off with your offense. The kind of age that must have inspired Pope to write his mock epic “The Rape of the Lock,” about a lock of hair. Maybe I sh...