The Best Medicine

I love to laugh, I kid you not
In fact I chuckle quite a lot
You may find if you see me smile
And clouds have lifted for a while
That I love to laugh

Life see-saws a bit you see
For those with temperaments like me
So when I’m down life is a bore
Yet where there’s mirth my spirits soar
For I love to laugh

When black dog comes with all his ills
And I’m told to take those bloody pills
To help me sleep and ease the pain
I’m quite soon bouncing back again
And I love to laugh

One thing’s for sure life is a riddle
Can’t swim sedately down the middle
When it’s a bumpy ride on a choppy sea
For mood-swing people made like me
But I love to laugh

 

2017 © Lesly Frances Finn

In Passing

What became of whats-her-name
the one who hung around last fall?
Or was it spring, I can’t recall?

Seemed quite sad and melancholic.
We thought she might be alcoholic.
Remember her?

She was with us at your brothers ‘do’
And we talked of how our nails grew?
Well, WE talked, she listened.
Or seemed to.

Then she cried, her mascara ran.
Describe her? I don’t think I can
No, never saw her with a man

Yes! That’s it, you’ve got her now
The one who said you were a cow
to laugh at her that time.

Hey, WOW!

Gassed herself? And her cat?
Why ever do a thing like that?

So ….. who’s now living in her flat?

2017 © Lesly Frances Finn

Unheard

her thin cries too delicate to tend

unheard by those she wants to hear

the words distorted by life’s wind

 

a yearning that’s never going to end

her heart song reaches no-one’s ear

her thin cries too delicate to tend

 

how long for broken hearts to mend

the answer is one she cannot hear

the words distorted by life’s wind

 

that story she can never now amend

is the burden that only she will bear

her thin cries too delicate to tend

 

she calls out and cannot comprehend

why she’s too weary to even shed a tear

the words distorted by life’s wind

 

in darkness she’s desperate for a friend

distanced from all whom she held dear

her thin cries too delicate to tend

the words distorted by life’s wind

2016 © Lesly Frances Finn

 

between

a fly? black

dot upon the wide page, white

as the mind’s eye

 

*

 

to rest on

mountain

snow-tipped,

sky;

 

to be

light

as air,

breath;

one with

 

no-one,

nothing.

 

ever

 

2.

 

there’s a singularity

in fish even stranger

dark trenches;

 

squid, octopuses;

walrus, dragon fly..

 

and when these things die,

they join together, kind of:

ashes;

 

but that’s it

water colour

a bird; bumble bee;

yellow weed

on lawn;

 

she, knees

crossed, directly

under vine,

 

light sky,

coolly

looks on.

 

The wind picks-up

a bit & the leaf

goes lightly,

 

rain drops.

planning for Light

When I drift off and wander
homeless months no other man
is there, I take along my patterns:
Exertion-Rest-Sleep,
Contemplation, Mindlessness,
Sexiness; behaviour-geese,
who nip and honk the conscience,
can only come so far
along these urban walkabouts,
being phoney with their fitness.
There’s a freeing up of feeling
moving as a witness —observing,
all at once, from an elevated place,
a break in the rain, the light
firing roof tops white; the sane
responsibility of iron, and tiles
are like these poems
under which I play and shelter,
they’re like a bus stop for the hands,
a carving for the mind to turn
polishing until, in it, I can admire
myself. And if wet Spring has sunlight
on her hands sometimes a little poem
self-seeds and grows a city Bush walk
by the same time next year.

Loud Minorities

When there are those who try to set you back,
who think they have a claim on what you do, how
you write or what to think, also remember they are not you.

When a group feels they should impose on you that you should think,
listen to me and agree or you are a bigot or worse,
are they not doing exactly what they are preaching against?

Is there no such thing as freedom of thought, freedom of mind?
Why is their view right and your view wrong?
They say that you are being controlled, but are they not trying to control you,
yet somehow you have become this bad person in their view.

Do not be pushed into things, if it feels wrong then it probably is,
don’t be poisoned.

Swallowing Their Crap

The media is the devils sister brainwashing you like the beast that reaches you inside, It’s like you are an animal locked up in the cage telling you what to think.

They try to make you assimilate you and forever preaching and twisting their darkest scheming, watching you rise and follow deceiving your salvation with such a lack of compassion.

With a funnel they fill the sickness in you and yet they make you think you get some sort of attention, what are the reasons that it is leading you, what do you think you had?

Make them go away, all truth will soon all be gone because times have changed, do i stand alone as independency is killed like a lame dog.

All the shit they make you intake and the other they will fake and hide, half truths are the forecast of today and tomorrow and yet when it is night they say the sun is shining.

The problem is not external it is internal.

Connection

The beautiful beginnings of your arrival to my world and the world slows down as we go.
Its all discovery, its a special faze that our thoughts collect with the same connection.
You are that someone that digs at my heart when I look into the eyes of an angel.
The sun is shining I have got my love in front of me, I can’t wait to see you smile again.
The birds they sing their beautiful songs and the flowers show their splendor but there is still nothing as beautiful as you.
Even diamonds start as coal so give us time to shine, the sweetest things they they burn before they shine.

Aspiring Thoughts

When the wind blows still and the stars echo in the night, I sit here and I feel my thoughts.

There is the will, like that of a salmon swimming up stream, never will I be deterred to follow my heart.

The dreams as I float in it’s presence march off to advance in the future taking root firmly spirling and ascending.

But If I sit like a stone where will I be? I will just grow hard and go nowhere a bubble that is popped never reforms.

To Be Your Man

I’ve been circling like a satellite by this time I have reached your sight, there is no disguise, i’m trying to be wise.

Like the earth revolving around the sun, but with gravity there is none, but we are one, so let it be done.

I want to say I’m coming home we are free, its just you and me, happy as can be, will you be with me, please invest and you will see.

All the stars will line up because of you, and your beauty too, a thousand times, because a soul it binds, I see the signs.

I swallow your thunder clouds and I’ll cry rain drops, until it stops, I chew on mountain tops and break up all the bad rocks.

I’m crying out in the desert sand, I got to understand, I’m backing off again, I want to be your man, not just a fan.

I’ll never give up, ill never let you down, I don’t want to be a clown, please do not frown, I’ll bring you the crown.

Will you be around?

a pair of yellow eyes

Do her stripes

light even now like

flames india;

 

terrorise

the air down

wind, the dry

 

undergrowth?

One day we

meet, shall be

 

eye-to-eye, my

heart-beat torn

out my side.