Mel From Melbourne - Music & Words

  I’m not doin too well   I’m not doin too well That’s all I’ve got I’ve added 3 pant sizes Since my wife’s brain disease & her different after surgery Our break up I drink too much But the drinking’s not the cause I have a chemical imbalance A rollercoaster around poles I’d started to do better in the country But I couldn’t afford the housing So back to the throng of the city There’s lots to do But it’s hard to be The concrete & steel Anyway just an exercise I’ve written about this many times & today it’s not coming out so well I’m hungover as always But I have no hope of quitting Coz my chemical imbalance is severe My Shrink once said schizophrenic But backtracked & said it’s not quite that There pressure to be normal in the city There’s huge pressure to be together & for all the lipservice about mental health awareness It’s all a lot of bullshit “Are you ok?” is a closed question for a start P...

  She won’t hug   She’s beautiful & she knows it But that’s not the point We’re friends & I needed a hug From a woman My female friends in the country Would hug with me Coz they knew I was safe & could respect boundaries So far the city has proved hug-less A whole generation Raised under the no touch policy Of our human services & educational & corrective services & so oh fuck I’m sick of thetical writing Can’t I just write about having my named called By someone seeking me out & sometimes you hear it as an aural mirage Maybe they’re calling for you Somewhere far away Or in the next life It’s the sound that tells you You are loved & more importantly Needed Not just a scab on the surface of the earth But rooted like the pepper tree That’s right I was going to hug a tree That’s always good Mum was a tree hugger I used to be so embarrassed Until I realised later how cool she was Cari...

  Country & City conversations   People respond so quickly in the city In the country you wait For the birds, the trees, the wind to consider People think deeper Conversations are had with another or others In concert with the environment In the city we’re under fire from noise Everything so loud People squeeze words out before the next bang! or crash! Like trying to meditate on wildflowers when your knee’s just been gashed So I take what people say with a grain of salt here They speak to survive the noise Saying more bout their flux than anything true of you How I long for the slower voice Sitting out the back with the blue wrens & the wind from the East I long to hear our words resonate & the wisdom in the whisper of the trees     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.  

  Co-operation of Poets   When I listen to poets from 3 rd World Realities I hear how tightly they hold to hope In the maelstrom of their formation They need it to survive Communities pray to it everyday It heals wounds & the lost it can save & yet the poetry I write from my First World Eye Is imbued with suspicion & doubt I have no concrete obstacles in my life Like security & basic shelter My basic needs are met & yet when I look at my intimacies I see something disingenuous Something of the sphinx of man Something that says while I’m moved by chants My journey is somehow more shadowed The question is: do I have the right to speak In a world of wars, poverty, imprisonings & famine But I can’t pretend to be a third world man & I’ve observed the bourgeois’ platitudes To contract away complex situations For so long a grain of cynicism I’ve detected on my tongue & I’ve vowed with two others to forev...

  Let your freak flag fly   Jason I like it when you ad lib Coz everything in the city & so slick & straight When you waffle & deflate It puts me at ease That poetry ain’t Kraft cheese You make me smile Humanity & Mother Earth are one One family & our ribs our hearts’ cage Let them out Both in danger of dying from spiritual & emotional neglect At risk of dying of a lonely broken beat Not enough love about & within right now Seems an anti-intellectual thing to say Coz yunno the academes & marketers are so clever with their double negatives But the song of the Earth & Humanity Is a plaintive cry Crying out to be held On a starless night Let your freak flag fly     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

  Pointing the finger   “You’re watching me” you vented I suppose I was I guess I was concerned that you seemed stressed about something  & I was waiting for when you’d finally spill the beans Rather than being prickly It gets me, it hurts me The way people point the finger outwards Rather than being honest about their feelings & I’m the one who ends up looking like the malaka For being mentally ill For being straight up For trying to heal Anyway I just wanna hide for a while People are too hard Trying all the time to keep up appearances I’m glad I had my mother Regardless of the violence at home I was encouraged to speak & not just sweep it under the carpet & push on Like people do Their shadows betraying them Hurting others Rather than just owning their emotions My mother was a healer She healed my father's raging fury By being fearless She healed me with active listening I've never met another in my life Who o...

The faun & the nymph   I can’t wait for her I mean I can But life has to go on Prelude a l’apres-midi d’un faune The frisson is killing me I can’t concentrate on anything Without thinking of her There’s a blood-stirring, breathtaking erotic sculpture in the NGV Australia Post First World War Of sex with abandon between a faun & a nymph The fucking is so intense I’m really drawn to erotic art at the moment Because I’m always turned on Not pornography that much Because the latter generally lacks intensity & sculpture works better on the libido Because it is frozen in time & one reads movement & rhythm & stimulation into it Sex without imagination Without captivation Feels like a cheap motel I wanna seduce you I want to be seduced To borrow from Elvis You are “always on my mind” My poetry is suffering I’m fixed to one theme I just wanna walk with you & let nature take its course There’s no hurry ...