This ol’
heart of mine
By Malachi
Doyle
1.
Swelling
Shrink
Dry out
Drink
Typing
required the
Right hand
seeks
A woman my
girl
Your tiger’s
eyes eclipse
All else
Love tied
To a spirit
Once met
Never forget
Never forgot
Maid marion
&
Judas
Iscariot
Dig
I dig
Like my
potato ancestors
Like Heaney
These stumpy
somewhat arthritic dogs
I fog
Is waking
In clarity
Dreams
I dream
clearer than see
Always have
How
Feral me
Damaging/damaged/&
yet I have deep aboriginal friends
Who talk
& I listen
Me o
translator
Humble
servant with my tin rattling tourettes
The shadow
to my quest for just being-becoming
Is there an I?
I cry
For u
Lu
When no one
knew
That the
women’s group didn’t like me for u
Infantalizing
on you my love
As if a
belgian zoo child
& yet
none of this matters with us
When I’ve
seen & heard with keen eyes
Not seeking
Yet finding
My visions
From unknown
source
& yet on
sacred ground
They’ll want
to package me up
Into new age
influencing they call it
Ripping off
ancient traditions
For mammon’s
feast
I say no
I am not for
sale
I don’t know
why I fell for you
Anymore than
you fell for me
Mid flight
Our dances
Our hugs
Primal
Gentle
Holding
The earth
core within our hearts
With
sentimental affection
For a fellow
misfits
Who meet
somehow
Hugged
deeply completely
Before we
exchanged names
Next to your
daughter
I’d proudly
love as my own
Because I
know the rigmarole
& I am
ceaselessly compassionate
Despite my
rage
Including
Because I’m
in fight or flight
So world please
stop trying to net me
When I’m in
pain
Like warner
brothers’ dog catchers
& say
I’m bad behaviour
For trying
to break the ice
In this
frozen winter war
No longer
cold
No longer
clear enemies
All the same
Frozen heart
Yoyo heart
is the song elton ripped off
& made
it coldcold or cocoa or whatever that means
The song
yoyo heart
Aboriginal
country
My exwife
1960 post
modern love
As full of
surface
As David
bowie’s
Word shuffle
machine
That
produces his nihilism
Style &
vidal sassoon
My notebooks
I like
But they’re
unique
& many
poems
Never see
the light of day
Like an
unremarked painter’s light
Yet therein
Donne’s
sunne rose
Over lovers’
bed
A world’s
contracted thus
Can man ever
really move
Post- Copernican
Certainly he
never has
As chuang
tzu says
Better a
fish washed up by the drought
Throw
herself into what’s left of the lake
Than first
aid spit water to her beached mates
& yet
How can I
just abide
& not
serve
Is wisdom
Really worth
more
Than life
Because the
world looks insane to me
& man
fares little better
I don’t know
why cameras are hauled into
Amazonian
tribes
Or tourists
rubbish tip Uluru
When all is
here
Wherever
quiet is
Any park can
be Jerusalem
A local
reference in a local book
Enough’s
been written
Read
Dream
Dream first
Talk
Write
Listen
Read
Dream
Fall in love
Talk
Write
Listen
Dream
Fall in love
Dream
Listen
Dream
Love
Live.
2.
Algorithm
Partition
Par-trippin
U can’t
Fly with
One
Zero
Etc
Date
Binary
No funk
Sedentary
Static
Historic
Pastiche
Ai
No soul
Object
Soulless
Lifeless
Death cult
Stealing
children laughter from the word
Seeking to
explain
What can
only be felt
& is
inexplicable
Like being
overtaken by laughing till the point
Of spasmic release
Ai
Does not
release
There is no
freedom here
Only old
things
Redecorated
Surface
Only
There is no
genome
To the
phenome
& yet
the double
Weaves both
Often
simultaneously
Man is mad
Irrational
Some days
the same joke that overtook you depresses you
We move on
from action
We let
things go
But the
internet
Records
everything
With its
neocolonial bias
As if god
Is a cynical
chauvinist bigot
A voyeur non
participant
& not
one made up of all
Human &
non
All
& none
&
shadows
&
dapples
Ripples
Freckled
A dazzle
Pied
No lie
Colours
Black &
white are not colours right?
So how
Can they be
1s & zeros?
You can’t
fly with one wing.
Short linked
verse made by locals of & visitors to Heart of Carlton:
‘The many
voices of us’
(Wurundjeri
Country, Oz)
I am always
all so
Just the way
it is sometimes
Or all the
time. Who knows.
Sometimes
you do things.
Sometimes
you don’t.
It just
never ends, but that’s not
A bad thing.
Can u set a
blind date.
My hair is
curly
In my one
Tuesday smile
On a
Thursday
Patting ‘Pat
the cat’.
2FP! 3
symbols only.
I ate the
noodles and don’t feel
Lonely.
That’s all I got!.
Thank you
for the pasta!
No matter
what, keep
Smiling and
stay
Positive
Transistor
sisters
Bloody
blisters!, And you,
I feel
nervous every time to talk with
People so I
use earphone all the time but
Happy to
talk with you cheers! 😊
On the next
page of the note book
A picture of
a wistful smiling cane toad with mascara
(Aug.
2026)
3.
Walnuts et
al.
“Food that
looks like your brain
Is good for
your brain” – D.
--
What we
teased at home
‘a living
martyr’
& yet
what have I become
This
habitual online identity
Of
technetheism
Where media
Is taken for
life
& the
break down
Of
legitimate speech
&
disingenuousness
Blur
The think
tanks
That paid
for by the superrich
Seek to
control the parameters
Of discourse
Sensationalising
into 2 word, i.e. “shock disgrace!”
500 years of
nuanced scrivening
“Bad
Behaviour will not be tolerated”
Says the
Government’s pub poster
As if “bad”
Is a moral
absolute
10 year
old’s serving 20 years in adult prison
Is tolerated
not “bad behaviour”
Discussing
it
Is
Because
every night’s quiz night
Moral
absolutes are based on faith
As in the
Roman Catholic’s Sinful
So without
faith
This
Atheistic newspeak
Sounds
arbitrary to me
& yet we
know universally that Evil must never be tolerated
All faiths
agree
Thou shalt
not kill
Rape
Torture
Lie
Etc
& yet so
called conservative faith groups
Seem fare
more tolerant to different personal traits
At least if
you rock up
With good
intentions
Than a
spiteful animus barkeep
Though
they’ll seek to ‘save your soul’
Play psychic
powertrip
Anyway,
That’s just
recent beef
But killjoys
Are stealing
our sunshine
When the
world is grieving
& we’re in
so much pain
& we are
each flowers
Who close in
the grey
& open
in the sunshine
& the
sun
Is beyond
words
As is its
golden rainbowing sometimes light
Neither bad
nor good
It shines
For the
sinner & the saint
It is timely
&
heavensent
a reminder
to judge not
lest ye be
judged
&
Gabriel blows a fugal horn
& angels
sing
& it’s
ov erwhelmingly spellbinding
Not
reduceable to clucky codes.
5.
This poem
writ
Not plugged
into the internet
Even note
poems
Saved to my
phone
Will enter
the dynamic field
The sets of
waves
Stormsets or
mere weather patterns
Is value
judgement?
No not
really
One’s fast
moving one’s slower
Some destroy
some rebirth
& yet
survival
Indigeneity
is not historical
But future
past contemporary
More modern than
counting machines
Of the new
priests
Coz it’s now
I’ve said
this before
But we write
into a headwind of amnesia
Like never before
Babies
thrown out with the bathwater
As if image
Is political
Les murray’s
feral’s thetic is problematic
But his
poetic is subtle & resonant
Reduced
To left
right ultimatum
As if a
readership is god
Even
Eurypides’ chorus was not so presumptious
So we have
Native
Feral
Outerspace
Freshwater
& salt
Rock
Air
Gas
Spacejunk
Contested
waters
Boundaries
Love
Hate
Indifference
Mixed
feelings
All eyes
Add eyes as
suffix
Afterwords
Everything
eyes
Grape eyes
Spider eyes
Contemplating
eyes
Electric
tricycle eyes
For our
semiliterate babel friends
With open
arms
Win some
Lose some
Sure
Win more
I reckon
Or at least
give a smile
Whether
admitted to
Or privately
When we admit
our own harmless corruptions
What we are
too
Us small fry
Jesus!
They expect
ya to be a saint
Without ever
paradise
John
Farnham’s touch of paradise
Was loved
beyond compare
As the
nation sang together
Now be
considered radical
That one
might be visited by such gifts
As sweet
composition light & fidel textures & harkening vocal
No one
thought what he looked like
It was a
voice on a radio
In
everyone’s car & home
Cheltenham
Beaumaris
Better now
On Patti
Smith’s ascent Gung Ho album Persuasion
She reminds
me of a young artist mate
Who has it
in space
One knows by
her pause
A young
artist should absorb as many influence as is possible
So as to
make them mute
Still they
blow chunky spunk
Which
eventually putters out
Then the
light chisel
Into
something’s complimentary nothing.
6.
“Hamish!
Tea’s time! Come n get it!!! bang bang bang”
Mums weren’t
whisperin for nuthin in my neck of the woods
& I knew
many homes
Wandering in
Led by my
nose
To the
kindest wisest humblest people
The post war
folk
Who were
happy kids to be kids
& to
retain in in their daydreams
Not
colonised by distraction
Rather
tinkering with scone dough or a chisel
Or painting
the light
Or paws deep
in the earth taking in the seasons
Sleepy town
A touch of
paradise
For all the
hard times at home those nights
&
grammar school every cloistered day
I had my
high school mates
Who retained
an innocence
But what
I’ve learned is that innocence must be earned
Else one
atrophy
& give
birth to mental-spiritual geriatrics
Who think
magic has to be added
Hocus pocus
No, magic is
innate!
No tricks no
cunning required
Love
patience imagination to share compassion courage is wisdom.
7.
I always
forget soil
Bugs &
insects my nearest & dearest
Along with
the ghosts
Organic
& synthetic
Not to
mention dust
The subject
of me mate’s last series
Dust to dust
See
I never
really got that
Coz I saw
the spirits
See them
past present future
Ancestors
yours mine theirs ours ours ours ours increasingly mulat
We grow into
one another
But ghosts
never forget
So cultures
must hold tight
Learn all
Let learning
govern the tongue
Don’t
surrender your roots
But you’ve
been replanted ferals
The Japanese
word for bread is pan
As in French
Coz let’s
face it
When it
comes to bread
You’re not
modelling sliced sandwich loaf in your dreams I hope
Cosmopolitan
panmeritocrat
Yes I like
Kev Little Ludwig Qigang Fela Nina Dimitri Claude Oritino James Patti
Too much pop
referencing these days
& art
books that equate painterly language to literary ‘moral’ semantics
I’ve given
up buying new books
I mean I
like Eddy Burger & Victoria Chang
Anything
that plays with form on the flips & dips
Do I play
Which day
To play
Monday
Whichday?
I need
Constructions
o instructions twould be grand
Wouldn it be
lubbily
To win a
warm 6 mill
Apparently
Why is it
always cool?
Your
airconditioners are heating up our planet
I have no
tenant
Cept the
precepts of u & the forceps of my brain risperdal
The crisis
of 2 into 1
I prefer the
Doors’ odds 5 or is it 9?.
Oh it’s
7.18.
At night.
In case
It hadn’t
been made explicit in this time that leaves little to the imagination I mean a
tassel is means to suggest a nipple not a pimple! Right?
8.
Yes the
reduction of music to cinema
Destroys its
mystery & ambiguity
Here lies an
age
Ambiguous on
the big questions
But
ambitious on details
As if penny
pinching a stairway to heaven builds in concrete & steel into a no parkland
clause necessary here if determined architectural significance like purple
glass skyscraper hardly Gaudi’s Barcelona unique epochal vision n’est pas?
Melbourne’s
built in proforma brutalism violations of Naarm’s dreaming no name change can’t
polish a turd
Still as far
as cities go
It’s not a
bad one
I’m with
Garcia Lorca’s child with the blank face of an egg
Cut down by
the sky (quote)
Antipathy
for the mechanised scarecrow to block out ghosts/spirits whether wither
A poet in a
city
Must be a
believer
Beyond all
reason
Hence I
retreat to the wattle & seek via Bluetooth vibrations sympathetic to
reverie with the organic becoming again despite distance bark & gunsongs of
the gumtrees louder in their barely perceptible to a deafened ear I listen
through my heart & feet bare inside my shoes to love all creation organic
& wonder if I can ever feel the same surrealistic warmth for something cold
can we in optimism turn technology back to the service of humanity by putting
it in its place alongside mindful super mindful travel mindful sleep forgetful
mind soul heart ear furling like Georgia O’Keefe to the sex womb that begins
with the sperm penetration that sperm from trillions that time that place where
it could be anywhere it could be the rings of Saturn influencing it could be
the tides it could be a beach giggling about doing it in the water thinking too
during ecstasy imagine if this could be life forever…
Canto 2
Play –
Cast:
wind
rain
firestorm
fireplace
brighteyes
brighteyes
in the dark
same as her
face
in love
light
why her eyes
mesmerize a
blind poet
of simple
heart
& heavy
kinky broken slinky with u I dance how can it not lead to an avoidance of
romance?
I don’t
wanna scheme for your love
You are
enough
I’m just mad
&
sometimes I blurt things out
Like people
with disability do
Which is
good
Because that
composure
& tunnel
vision
To traffic
jam in the Burnley
Is not
working
I’d rather
Aaron Neville is singing Amazing Grace
Over a ‘wild
injun’ groove
While I tap
on the keys
& speak
as I write
&
sometimes go silent to disguise
Coded
messages
Like they’re
listening is not paranoia but fact
Maybe I can
say
& forget
what I’ve written
& fuck
typos
I deny the
accident
I’m hurrying
& talking slows me down
Like I’m
writing while holding my breath
No prayer in
silence like ur meant to
Who says?
A scrivener?
Century or
so after the fact?
Chinese
whispers
Yes but
speak
Lest anxiety
attacks
Which is why
Silent
offices
Are anti-person.
Fuck off
The problem
with getting paranoid
Rightly so
Is that
logos is not bringing us closer can we to
a really thawed in to relaxed into the cosmic hum of the sonics of the spheres
Dream with
me
Lie with me
In the hands
of the makes
Yes we
people have remarkable potential
Curtained in
a magician’s saw & damsel in a box by a thoughtless
Curtailed
human potential
At the meta
level (thinking about thinking)
& in the
dance
Always
referencing too narrowly
Explosions
past & recorded
When it was
always about spontaneity some reference sure but as Yeats pointed out the
dancer becomes the dance something eternal timeless in time holding out-of-time
in an embrace so it wabbles like a toddler or a top or you when your
intoxicated by love or a lightbulb moment\
Yes
creativity
In this we
people
Can do
extraordinary things
To heal us
& transport us spiritually
Why fly in a
shuttle when you can fly in love’s dance catching fire?
Doesn’t
damage the planet nor fill the cosmos with junk for collision & blocking of
vibrations
Man I wanna
see the stars in the sky in the city!
Why are we
cut down
To object boxes
That this
pilotless ship that thinks it’s driving
When
something
Beyond
A trillion
tunnels
Or a spider
in uniform dots
Or a
repetitive vanity mirror of one
No an artist
astonishes god
&
teaches him her them something nothing all oo wot?
That changes
the course of cosmic destiny
We
Family are
the creators
We were at 3
Plus we’ve
learned some new tricks
& we can
build beautiful invisible worlds
That will
remind us of our beauty & resilience
This
firestorm is cool burn
Designed for
regeneration
Firestorm
only to hook the youth in
Who need to
learn how to become men so that they can soften into lovers
Yeah they
might drive loud cars at some point
But a
child’s tears of infant loneliness for parent
Exiled in a
dark room
Is a deeper
truth
Just we each
need to know
We’ve all
been scared of the boogyman
That’s
natural
But together
we should absorb through sharing & recycle stress into pavlova or borek
& billy tea
& things
unimaginable
Like Gene
Wilder to a child
When a poor
child
Was admitted
to the screen
Included in
the scene
Together we
can live
No jails in
our heads
No jails in
our hearts
No jails at
all
Because
healing will commence
Ya just need
elders & kids to work together
& left
& right to realise it’s a lot of hot air 1s & 0s
But it
begins with getting off the web
Getting out
of the tunnel
If even just
for a second
Look up from
the screen to capture an image
Recite the
words aloud
That’s
poetry
Add a
sculpture to one you like or don’t like
To continue
culture
Coz the way
it’s going we’ll have nothing around by policies & procedures.
Every
generation faces a crossroads
& we’re
at a big one now
I shared
meals with my Nan
Who predated
nation the radio
We now have
second generation
Digital
natives coming through
Which is a
nonsense expression
They
required oxygen & voice & heartbeat & hormones & the earth’s
food & swimming in a river or a sea & if you live in Australia &
don’t swim I suggest you find a way to get out of the city sometimes to see the
stars & watch the kangaroos just don’t swim at surf beaches choose a bay beach
& swim inside the flags learn about the land & young is the best way to
learn fewer motors use your body coz screen time makes warriorless eunuchs of
all genders
Because a
poet is a warrior
Whether
Dickinson to Barrett Browning
Pi O or
Chuck D
Chariots of
fire
Hitched to
the variable dancing stars at night
Where we
gather to watch the puppet show
Parents no
need to draw attention to the strings
Life has
strings
If all you
see is strings
You then
will be a puppet
With no
release or relief
You’ll be
stiff & quaking
At your
child’s questions
That terrify
you:
Like where
are we going?
& why?
--
Canto 3.
Footsteps
Tracks
Where
writing begins
The marks in
the cave
In sand
paint
Footholds in
the mountain
Tracks
through the jungle
That’s what
we’re doing
To guide the
way for next generations
Forwards
Learning
from the greats
In every
tradition
Led by in
Australia First Nations elders
Who know the
country
We have to
make our technologies
Match the
songlines
Which
broaden beyond image or word
All cultures
songlines in harmony with here’s ancients
Wisdom
Sustainability
For the
continuation
Of life on
the planet.
Nihilistic
greed of the few
We must not
be slaves to.
Be gathered
by lamplight
For the
shadow play
Of moonlight
& in the
sun
Let the kids
more time playing to learn on their feet & midair leaping
Because the
sedentary are killing themselves
In record
numbers
Because
we’re frightened of having awkward conversations
Man awkward
conversations are ones we should be having more having in good faith where both
sides reveal no cameras no tricks not ready made answers
Coz let’s be
honest
Who really
knows about the human heart?
If we want
to heal ourself & others who want to heal
We’ve gotta
be ok with not always being liked
&
remember the good feedback
Write them
down if we must
Like young
people saying “thanks sir”
Bit American
sure
But the
intention of gratitude was felt
We do not
choose how another might speak
So accept
the feeling whole heartland
We’ve gotta
lose the persecution complex
Everyone’s
struggling
Even the con
man
He’s in so
much pain, he’s numb
So, warts
& all good bad ugly heart on my sleeve
I’m a social
kinda guy
I love a
yarn
You watch a
film from even the 90s
People in
cafes talked & laughed
Now days
they’re glued to their phones
Neither here
nor there
Walking on
eggshells around us brothers & sisters
As if what
coffee they choose
Might be the
last world teetering decision they ever make.
Ha.
God love us,
as Dad used to say.
2.
People nurse
the sick & dying & the new ones like flowers
Sympathetic
strangers present at dying
& birth
In Eireann
culture the same person would felicity to heave & weave unweave & spin &
good against good against good against good anew dialectic need not annihilate
antitheses but a new shake from the trees many forests in many lands converging
& diverging in harmony
Yes Life
Celebrated
Healers
Like rivers
Celebrated
Dreamers
Dreaming
each night
No bombs
No guns
Put down
that weapon once & for all
You know
this
& yet
you hate
We all do
But know
it’ll pass
It’s hot
either
A cathartic
stress release
To violate
the surveillances
Of us
Feeling
trapped in a cage
We rattle
the bars
Sometimes
only sometimes capable of rationality
The
unconscious anyone
Are you
really so certain you’re sane
Or in
denial?
If you’ve
never been mistaken about something
I say you’re
a fanatic
& ai is
a fanatic
Always
behaving as if certain
How?
Which so
many schools & branches
Palimpsests
& she’s
got one yellow eye & one pink
& you’ve
one blue & one brown
& who
knows what you’ll produce?
Because I
had the 10 happiest years of my life
With a woman
I cannot
remember
So damaged
is the love we built
By the
rupture
But I do
remember how happy I was
& how
she made me laugh
& dance
& sing
& enjoy
silly things
&
celebrated each meal
& looked
forward to things
& yes
miscarriage
&
illness
&
despair
&
cruelty
& fear
& my
cowardice when I wasn’t perfect & needed to be
A largely
blameless enterprise
Love in a
time of cholera
Two
essential workers
& one’s
3 near death experiences
& one’s
psychosis
& caring
for an invalid is bad for the sex drive
But it was
beautiful
Two angels
I even
taught her things
& she
made me believe I could be a great man
Her “winning
horse”
Yes
No Johnny
Cash
We did not
make each other hurt much
We were a
mad traumatised match made
Made by
angels of heaven who reside in hell
William
Blake knew this about marriage
Of husband
& wife
Man &
woman
No one was
the victor in a fight
It was love
alright
Women have
wild tempers
& men
suppress their rage & shadows cast
It takes two
to tango
But dancing
is better with another
So Daniele,
I can barely
remember what you look like
A pale rider
& me
invisible
Cept when we
made love
&
healing future pain goes away in my tears
Yes we made
love
& no
lawyer
No words
written on no page
Can take
that away
Eternity
Lived inside
& surrounding us
In love
Two lovers
become gods
When they’re
best friends
Who
celebrate one another’s totalities
Ha your
favourite sleazy song just came on the stereo
I have to
hand it to ya girl
To crack a
joke with the first thing you said after two brain operations
Is fuckin
heroic
One tough
cookie
But
toughness is also born of & can breed fear in intimates
When we need
to have awkward conversations
You doubted
my fidelity
Not
realising it was forever
& I held
back an oversharer strange weakness
Whether we
had a child or not
I’m fatalist
You were in
danger of dying
In your mad
desire
For
perpetual change
Change is
inevitable girl
Not
everything must be forced foot stomper
Together we
were a good match
But the
losses of loved ones & I was broken by the surgeon’s mistake
You had no
faith I might recover
Man 10 years
of your illness
& you
think I’d somehow land perfectly
While you
had perhaps your last chance at life
Like a cat’s
9th
So you were
right
You needed
to go it alone
Correctly
only you could get things better & square
I had become
a haunted house
& you
needed to be born again
So there’s
no blame
But the
world doesn’t wanna hear that
We had a
happy marriage
& these
days last 12 years without kids is bloody good
We ascended
mountains
& alone
I build on what we learned together
I’m better
because of you
& I know
you know the same
& I hope
I helped open you up to trust & fearlessness
It’s true I
turned you spinster onto imperfect love
Like Atsuko
did for me
Back in 1996
To beginning
learning about love
Our first
teacher
We must
surpass
But later in
life
In our
dotage
We think
fondly of French fries listening to Patrick Swayze on the highway at 2am
As my mum
neared death
& shared
silence
Garrulous
bears.
Man didn’t
see that comin
Didn’t know
I was talk about that
So am I a
confessional poet?
Sometimes
But what is
poetic lyricism
Editors
within
&
against the line & ear
What is the
self
& the
poetic self
When I am
loving
I am cooking
& cleaning & massaging & singing & dancing & giggling &
holding a frightened hand & being a kind ear & not always in fact often
not getting it right muddling miscommunications
& so
that is how a love poet loves
& the
poems in ink or code
In these
inherited & borrowed & neologised words
What is
learned?
That wasn’t
ur marriage
You couldn’t
write it
Because we
were two live wires
Who lit up
every room we went into
&
welcomed everybody
& built
bridges where people were isolated
I’m
continuing our legacy
It’s just
harder without you girl
Coz you had
the common touch
Me too up
the tree
To always
think of boney m
So keep goin
girl
I will stand
by you forever because our love will live forever
Malachi
& Daniele
Dans &
Mal
The white
& the red lindt balls
Two holes in
one in one round
What a
marvellous thing is love
I wonder if
anything like that will ever happen again
Don’t get me
wrong knucklehead
I don’t
wanna go back to what’s done
I’m just saying
I’m not
painting it all black
We wrote a
monumental opus
That made
the angel’s weep
For sorrow
& joy
& the
child unborn
Perhaps a
girl perhaps a boy?
Somewhere
lives…
Somewhere
lives
--
Next Topic:
Shit
Hot
Plate
Burnt my
stingy fingers
Chained
bumper
To make
myself vomit
Because I
get to see heaven.
The quest
for sacred visions is not easy.
So much
harder
It’s been
too long till I touched base with my teacher.
I must check
in.
Coz his
words resonate so often Dr Robert.
“The fear is
I’ve been repossessed by friends I hardly know”
People
preying on me at my weak point
Seeking to
save my soul
Coz they’re
so full of doubt
As we all
are
In
matchstick land
That they
need me to join them to win back god
From their
terror
That they’re
just kids with the shadows the blankets make against the wall
With the
night light on
Coz some
nights you can’t face pitch darkness
Which is why
you need starlight
Or at least
street lights
Because if
we chill with the shadow play
&
acknowledge
That we’re
each our opposite
We can seek
like ancients
To
conciliate
In time
After airing
our truths
& space
& silence respectfully
Reconciliation
must come
The Uluru
Statement From The Heart
Is a just
that
A welcome to
share
It’s one
page was left unread
By millions
Who voted by
spending months
Reading
everything but.
We will
never move forward led by manic fear
Nor for that
matter manic bravado
Ebb &
flow
Be like the
forces of nature
Then be
still.
Never too
much power in the hands of too few
But
Australia must change
Not only
formally
But in the
character of the place
The
friendliness is good
We can’t
lose that
The
informality is good
One holiday
for Christmas & Easter
New Years
days Solar & Lunar
One for Eid
one for Diwali
One for the
Footy
One for the
Ponies
One for the
Anzacs
One for All
the Fallen
Naidoc
Celebrations obviously
Let’s be
honest with all these bloomin robots
We should be
working far fewer hours
We can
gather to celebrate
To praise
What a
negative weekend it’s become
& yet
not
In the park
we sit & some play basketball, some cricket, some soccer, some footy
Some read
books
Some lie on
their backs & watch the clouds
Some stare
out into space
Losing the
tunnel all
Post
lockdown we emerge
& find
for all the hate on our screens
We all get
along pretty well
It just
doesn’t make the news
People
trumpeting racism
Generally
live separate never intimate
If you don’t
like Indians
Tell me
after to try laughing yoga
Never
exposed to your supposed enemies
But when our
kids play together
No one gives
a hey!
It’s great
It’s getting
better
Sure there’s
kick back
A rear guard
action by a lost empire of dirt & hurt
But that’s
pantomime
We have
pretty good laws here
We have more
freedom when we exercise them
People have
just gotta overcome post lockdown shyness
& fear
of standing out
We’ve got
you
We care a
lot
To borrow
from a great song
When I was a
kid everyone pretty much was white in my town
But these
days I meet groups of aussie kids
Who look
like licorice allsorts
& they’re
way advanced more than I am
Sociology
was a good way to learn about how culture’s operate
But in a
globalised world
Most people
are living similar lives
& just
seeking to make it better
So rather
than hate or resent
Share, I
dare ya
Go on
You’ve got
this
No one’s
gonna laugh
& if
they do so what
We are
pretty funny
Up clutzes
Coz unlike
online trolls
What Christy
Moore calls snowflakes (no name no face)
On the
street we face one another
& one
think after living with everybody
&
teaching everybody
We’re all
big kids
& kids
are the same
Like flowers
Grey
winter’s day depressed
Winter sun
happy
Yes they’ll
be exceptions
But
exceptions from a rule
Or when it’s
grey we’ll need winterphiles to lift us
Everyone
must participate
A new
imagining
From which a
little space may open
A seed of
hope
That all
A good news
story
Anosh &
Jack two mates havin a yarn with an elder
A second
generation grown suspicious of the internet
We’ve gotta
start with the young
Coz they’re
gonna need a lot of help
Regardless
of their religion
Australia
good country
& just
adjusting to life after lockdown
So how do we
make sure
It’s not
only us non-indigenous
Who can get
a word in
When we’re
all visitors here
There’s a
reason it’s good
& it’s
down to the First Nations
The time has
come to say fair’s fair.
--
Postscript
so fond of postscripts as a lover once said the postman always rings twice
In more good
news
With all
this dangerous illiteracy
& feral
being used
Another
perilous journey
In this
dustbin junket
With wool
seeking a knitter
& dogs
have a sitter
A setter
barks
At a light
sensor footstep
Cities make
one paranoid
But a bitta
company helps
Thanks Frank
In actually
more good news
Rainbow
lorikeets now have adapted to eat from non native
Species
trees
Cop that
evolution theories!
Cop that
‘dying race’ theories
As full o
shit
As the
ancients always have known you were
Seen it
comin a mile off
The limited
scope of western rationalism
WWI proved
it was gobbledygook
Let alone
Auschwitz & Hiroshima/Nagasaki
Don’t get
too big for ya boots
Just coz
you’re frightened of being seen
Isn’t this
what all this is about?
The good
thing about the phone
Is there is
no privacy
We’re all
walking around naked
Like we
always have
Every
attempt to mask it
Like Rococo
ends in bloodshed
So let’s get
honest
No more
bullshit
The world’s
future is now at stake
Look we need
many hands at the wheel/no wheel/what wheel
We’re just
dreaming
It’s good to
dream
Put down the
phone
Put it in
your pocket after turning it off
Or put it in
your bag
&
nothing
Wasn’t so
bad
You’re now
out of the tunnel
Sure your
phone still has a tracker
Rome wasn’t
built in a day
What’s the
rush
Enjoy the
dream
Main thing
is
Remember
you’re not the only one dreaming
As John
Lennon sang
As Kev
Carmody says
This song states
nothing new
This is just
a reminder
Of what we
forget when we’re in the tunnel
So get out
of the tunnel
If only for
10 minutes a day
Half an hour
perfect
Practice
your old hobbies
A person
without a hobby
Will create
misery in the lives of others
As me mate
said
That becomes
their hobby
But hobbies
are meant to be harmless
Like me
& drawing
I can’t
really draw
Like I can
sing or write
I can’t
really dance
But I love
to do it
It’s fun
Like being a
kid
The Irish
weave circles back again
In different
patterns
None
repeatable precisely
& the
pattern is in context
All part of
the weave
Born of the
charlotte’s invisible authorial thread web
Beauty born
of not nothing but who knows you could see it that way if you’re an atheist
which is a
kind of faith
faith in ‘a’
te-he.
Poems should
end on a joke
That’s the
point of comedy
According to
the classics
A happy
ending
& we
need happy ends
Coz we need
new stories
To hinge in
life
Continuation
Not
cessation
No end
Continuation
We’re
building
An invisible
impossible dream
Coz in
dreams begin responsibilities
&
sniggering behind the bushes eating chocolate bars
Is
forgivable at 15
But talkin
smack rather than lending a hand
Is bullshite
I’m guilty
of it
But I’m not
gonna forever rest on my laurels
Despite my
disability
I reach out
into the community
&
participate
Recently we
wrote the poem in here
As you’ve
seen
Or have you
forgotten?
A good one
Mindful
walking in a confined space
To focus the
wandering focus
Which can be
good
But balance
Mindfully
say in your head right foot left foot right foot left foot etc
See how far
from the tunnel we’ve come
Using
opposing points of view at different times
She even in
a spiteful idea
There is a
plea
& a
recognition of pain & even if the words are wrong there is something deep
than connects people in pain
Unfortunately
turning to politics
For self
help
Is dangerous
&
limiting
Coz we’re
born & die alone
Our fate is
the same
So how can
division reign
Especially
in this invisible dream
With a seed
of hope
That can
bear fruit
Because love
is impossible seemingly
& yet we
many fortunate are held in its embrace
& must
leave surplus for those in pain
Do not fear
hungry eyes at your feast
For every
dog has their day
Man I’d like
a good old fashion Oakleigh fish n chip shop
In Carlton
I am flawed
I want what
I don’t have
I want a
fishnchip shop
What do you
want
That you
don’t have
In the same
bracket?
Nothing too
ambitious
Yes our
heroes will be flawed
Coz
everyone’s a hero
If they join
in
Sounds like
school
I lost you
on the fish chip fear
Back to your
tunnel
Make up your
own adventure next time
Like divorce
Don’t lose
sight
Of the
progress we’re making
Slowly
Healers are
healing to heal others
& we
repeated invisible dream
Which think
tanks will seek
To coopt
& turn
against the vision
But these
ice caves are lit
& for a
moment
It sounds a
strange echo
Somehow
defying
The digital
code
To turn red
& green & purple & yellow & pink
It’s written
in
Lifting off
the page
Or screen
This is good
music
David Torn
et al.
Not sure how
I got here
I influence
the algorithm lost
Or for a
time
I lost my
train of mind
& became
identical with the time & felt funky in a good way
Like Bootsy
Collins’ glass bass
& P-Funk
It’s good to
be a kid
It’s good to
lift the lid
Is it a
snake
Is it a worm
Does one
ever learn?
Or are these
just words?
No different
to a barking dog with his tail wagging
Coz it
doesn’t anymore know the rules
Who can
conjecture
Let alone
know
This
invisible ship
This
starship
Hovering
above the earth
Staying
Going
Who knows
It’s
invisible
& it’s
not franchised
It’s community
amateur hour
To make our
own stuff up
& stop
with the pastiche
If ai’s already
doing it
We need to
be pleasantly wowed
By little
miracles to cheer our dimples when we walk
We can’t
lose all our abilities
Like
dreaming for one another
Continually
something new
Today’s b
grade
Will be
tomorrow’s a grade
& that’s
ok
Coz they’ll
always be someone smarter
&
cleverer
I’m just
being a bold mediocrity
With unusual
audacity & drive
Who would
rather make a poem
Than watch a
video
Or play on
my phone
I’m trying
for less
Phone time
First time
for ages
Typing on my
computer
Feels like
the first time
Like Disney
Bruce Willis
Won’t get us
out of it
Hollywood is
dead
Indie
Low budget
Good writing
Made with
passion
No more
stars
But the ones
in the sky
Like dust
bowl ballads
Woody
Guthrie et al
No one made
a buck
But future
dreams were forged at the crossroads
Like a new
friend
Passing on a
new scrap of hope.
PPS
Bumpy rides
are good
Cos
sometimes there’s an unrepeatable horn trill
Not
Organic
Not
synthetic
Seemingly
beyond forensics
Who knows
how?
Published
& Copyright Malachi Doyle 2026.
(25th
Aug)
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