Mel From Melbourne - Music & Words

Skint… the Light: Skint no spliff last glass of wine winter All money on lentils & heat The light provided by old Fijian-Tongan-German brother Robert’s Kinky gospel 90s home 4 track cassette demo on stereo USB a handmade labour of love Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

  Morning Poem, Carlton, Winter, 25.7.25   It’s still, this morning You don’t hear the few birds caroling As much usually Must be nearly Spring I must admit the ducks The other day Were looking very fresh & crisp Like they’re growing their fashionista feathers     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.  

  Poetry Infinity & Work   Knocking on the door of infinity To ask something finite in return The folly of courting Or is it stalking poetry   The best words happen automatically   Poetry refuses to become work & infinitely recedes Beyond your reach Like a loss of faith   Through too much self     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

  Short version of a Bangin day! (for Yaru) How are ya cobber? Had a bangin day today on a wild goose chase to see my doctor.  He cancelled at the last minute But I got a fresh shucked oyster & a Tasmanian & an Irish whiskey for free for 3 people, a bangin conversation with a Nepalese guy who said, we both agreed, that God is in everyone. Love the train. Love Melbourne. Finally to cap things off, I met a beautiful woman who has a rare condition whereby she has no sensory memory. We really clicked. The beautiful irony is she won’t remember me 😛❤️ Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

  A fuckin GOOD day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you!!! (love hearts I’m throwing rose petals While not native Which is bangin! (comma) Is still bangin!!!!!)     Now once coming to the realisation that I’m not a sic kunt I don’t even know if I exist A flow of energy that’s tidal & some days the high tide is HiiiiiiiiiiiiiGGGGGHHHHH! But still with a thorn With a chip   I digress, by way of introduction, Here begins the tale, as much prose as verse:   An ethnically Chinese man After a lovely gentle loving exchange Gifted me an oyster shucked Straight to my hand As fresh as it gets Opened 5 seconds before it was down My cakehole Full of pristine brine It was a good time   “God is in all of us” A Nepalese commuter & I agreed I held my hand to my heart & we smiled au revoir   3 minutes later Beautifully salty mouth I supped some water & soon after a Gangnam style Hotel bo...

  A happy thought   A small partly grey, partly white Fairly still cloud That looks like it should Amongst the blue winter’s morning sky   A happy thought     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

  The counting machine   My muse is eclipsed by a feeling, hearing Murders of sacred beings discussed By ‘clever’ people as numbers,   Same as slavers talking of their ‘cargo.’   We’re so used to hearing it We do not think it strange,   Till someone we loved becomes a statistic – Unnamed, unpictured, life untold,   Just a number.     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.  

  I’m paraphrasing Father Bob Maguire (RIP): That friendship between creeds & shouts/songs of joy Resound in Heaven Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

  Happy NAIDOC month Enjoy the hum…m…………… Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

Thumbnail of my muse   You can’t just sneak up on my muse & try & steal her for a kiss Or she will disappear But she has a good sense of humour & is down to earth & air She’s not one for flattery But I like telling of my feelings for her She’s gentle & walks lightly & she steers me when I try & rush her To know my place She is afar but not aloof She is committed to her truth As I am Still I get greedy for her under the Djaara stars But the magic happens When she seeks me out She is fond of flowers as she is of me She knows each wildflower personally She is hardworking from morning till night Still people demand more of her Because she radiates so much light At the end of a long day She needs to keep her own counsel Where she dances & drums like an ancient dream She tells me she cries But never in front of me She is sunshine Like her flowers, & rain She likes the occasional puff She h...

  A working multiculture  Is a beautiful orchestra  Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

  Island of the colourseeing & the colourblind   Some places are too dark Willfully dark sometimes One bruises one’s heart   --   Some places are so full of light One becomes invisible In giddyness   --   The two places appear that way As an essence Without a seeming genesis They are timeless Like a colour is   & yet even our colours Are yet to become In some places     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

  Lagging (for Chris Blackman)   I’ve been pretty good for a time But then I got the flu & got lagging Lagging Don’t dope too much Don’t drink too much Don’t look at ur phone too much Don’t work too much Or you too ’ll get lagging Be careful of who you surround yourself with Laggs in small measures Be careful of complaining too much That’s a big one Mental breakdowns are a bad one They get you lagging for ages Trust me, you don’t wanna get lagging My wife & I separated   You guessed it: I got lagging “Woe is me, You can’t trust no one”: Lagging I got gout in my foot from pounding the pavement: Lagging My dogs never lagged They were aways keen as mustard Even when one had to have surgery He only lagged for a moment Before he was bounding about again My niece & nephew don’t lagg Except when they crack the shits: Lagging But I’m gonna cut this short I could go on forever & as Jesus said, ...

  Don’t be seduced by the worst Don’t get lagging Just because ur sore  The best in you rises above it Don’t be seduced by the worst Published & Malachi Doyle 2025.

  When a verse is a curse A verse is a curse A horse is of course When it forgets to love Remembering only lovelessness Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

  Bullroarer Beau & Tomahawk Tov é (For my beloved nephew & niece)   Bullroarer Beau & Tomahawk Tov é Had gathered quite a crowd Because their ancient songs Drew in people from all around Some were green Some were red Some were hungry Some had bread But all here marvelled At their starry ‘willy-willy’ Which blew to the West from the East “Time” they sang, “Is two” & two can be multiplied Like Mal’s yellow kazoo Mal had 4 mouths & somehow 87 ears Most were to the front of him Cept one was to the rear But he wasn’t mad at ya He’d lost his chip down the sink Now the sink is blocked But his heart is clear     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

  Cassowary egg Why am I trying to Write a cassowary egg? Rather than to open That dream door? Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

Life Life had a wet dream & after a seismic but short pregnancy  The universe was born Pretty cool eh? Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

  I believe Kev Carmody’s body of work to be the greatest living depiction of ‘the Australian experience.’ Equal to that of Patrick White, our only Nobel Prize Winner for Literature, therefore equally worthy of the prize. Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

  Every poem I write is about a flower Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

  Kev Rather than engaging in/experiencing the songs themselves  Those ‘clever’ folks use them in the generalised  As ‘Fors’ & ‘Againsts’ in their Persuasive Essays Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

  The Eagle & the Crow The Eagle & the Crow Bunil & Waa (Dja Dja Wurrung moieties} Crow -- digest Ted Hughes Crowie -- get a drink off this Legend Chloe -- Sister Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

  I had a thought: Some thoughts are beautiful xx Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

  Tourette’s is Hot!!! Just wanted to speak a short oral poem to ya. Called Tourette's is hot! It's bangin! Wanker! Eat shit! Wanker! Eat shit! The sacred fool full of great wisdom xx Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.