Await Book No 3 – “Rewiring Destiny”….and perhaps No 4

Yes, the clock is now ticking…..   My third anthology “Rewiring Destiny” should be out at some point in 2019. It has, between 80-110 poems, of which 80%, are novel ones. I no longer write solely for the blog, since I would like to put my poems out, in print.  There are free style poems, rhyming…

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Under Mistletoe At Christmas

How nirvana means different things to people, A nicotine high, some cannabis, A little coffee to take away the cravings,  A sugar cookie at the corner shop, A meat pie from a 7/11 store Or under a mistletoe tradition. How the best part of the day, Is looking at my wife listening to Eclectic music,…

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Aborigines 2

Didgeridoos like alp horns, Kaleidoscopes of mystical sounds, While they gather around a fire,  Learning that their throats Are spirited, and their hands Are full of corns. In this outback, the choice Is getting high on pituri and cheap alcohol, The type that is distilled, in a Queen’s land. How the kangaroos came before Us,…

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Aborigines

A round Eucalyptus bark, gather, B reathless groups of men, dark as cocoa, O verlooking a rusty dome, Uluru, it is called. R emembering an adolescence of gleaning, I ndustrious in harnessing the abracadabra of a land; G oing for a bath to a billabong, to a high on pituri, I ndigenous, and still loyal…

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Haikus on Caribous

How in tens they appear, Through the ghostly woods, Shaming Walmart. Those deciduous branches, A far cry from tips of antlers. Like acorns & pine cones. How in the heart of winter, Caribous trek thick dunes of snow, Masts but no sail. Tundra in a meltdown, While the boreal shifts latitudes, As do caribous. Through…

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Ode to Muthiah Muralitharan

We don’t deep fry our crickets like in parts of Vietnam, we Make men with defective joints, Into a fanfare, a circus. How 800 test Scalps, is no small feat, As a smiling assassin, surpasses Crazy Horse, in counts and statistics. Cricket, needed a universal hero And that man who owned A Jam factory, made…

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Jesus, Buddha, Confucius, Elon Musk

There are places like the stones of Stonehenge, Older than most sights and structures, Made of the mortal and the divine.  While Golgotha, is the place, where one man, picked a rugged cross and climbed up a hill, while whips cracked like flames. In one sacrifice, which only counted to three days Inside a coma,…

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My Mother Goes to Vote in the American Election

  My mother is the type, who even if good old Santa Clause is running for the local election, would not vote for an obese white man. for her the “X” is so precious, you could say she thinks of herself, as bigger than the whole electoral college.   She will never write on a…

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