Tag: Australia

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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A Glimpse of a Thong

One of my favorite pastimes when I was in Australia, a thong playing peekaboo. Gosh wasn’t that a craze back in 2000-2005. Beautiful is,  That song called the “Thong Song”, That went up the charts, Similar to how strings of fabric, Go up and above, Two beautiful muscles, Two Gluteus Maximus, In the middle of

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Sleeping in Australia

The slow change of paws, And feet of a Koala bear, on a eucalyptus tree, While tourists capture photo after photo, A slow animal that spends, Much of its time asleep. While in Melbourne, a man in a coma Wakes up to a brand new world, How after 3 months, he finally opened his eyes,

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Virginity

    What rests Unspoken in invitation Unrobed by no mortal Unconsummated by sin Unchallenged by vice Uncompromised by guilt Unpledged to god Is a preservative of longing To which there is a counterpart of the soul For two convergent lips will one fated day Bear the weight of twin bodies For kismet is mortality’s

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The House I will Never Buy

The student loans I paid off, The guilt-free trip to Sydney for a post-doc Knowing life could no wrong. How it all tumbled, like domino squares The first to the last. Now I look at all the houses in Melbourne, And wonder what secrets they hide. I remember back in 2006, my days of house

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Alice

A place where the funny looking platypus, Is a duck-faced monotreme, and the echidna Is spiny on the dorsal side, both, egg-laying mammals.  The kangaroo is a jumping life-form, Trampolining away, letting in a balcony view, To a little joey inside her elastic pouch. And in the middle of the outback, you find Alice Springs,

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Refugees to Welfare (The Migrant’s Story)

The dry eye, like the parched outback, And a salty tongue, And a Freemantle Doctor, That abets the refugees. The wind with a stethoscope And the noise of a cheering heart, Palpitating like mad, How a seasick heart raptures, At the first sight of land. A doctor that hears your accelerating Heartbeat and slowly bring

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Migrating to Australia

The three wheel driver who rakes in the miles. The banker at Hong Kong Bank. The unemployed man flying a kite.  The genies inside bottles, and the Aladdin’s carpet, That they all dream of. The open doors of countries With generous welfare systems, come at a cost. How you learn to get buried in all

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