The Uniting

Tony's Barber Shop. What neighbourhood does not have a Tony's Barber Shop. The price caught my attention first. A board in front, $21 for a men's cut. Skeptical I turned to see a shop full of people. We're either all cheapskates or the place is good. Hopefully the latter.

Sit there waves the man who appears in charge. Tony, thinks I. No his name is Rudy and he does own the shop. Has since coming here in the late eighties. A Ukrainian conscript performing his central service in the Volga suddenly unemployed by glasnost. He and fellow soldiers made a run for a western country and Australia was the beneficiary. Rudy bought the shop from Tony.

Rudy has three chairs. His is by the window where he can greet customers, direct who goes where, and can keep an eye on the register. Cash only. There's a fourth barber's chair at the register. A cross dresser is seated there waiting for a shave. He's dressed to the nines in a fine short dress with fish net stockings and gold stilettos. A bright pink wig is in his lap, waiting to be popped on once his head is shaved bare. He has to wait his turn as he only trusts Rudy’s blade. Rudy informs him I am next and then him, even though I was there after him. No worries he says in a thick Russian accent.

The chair to Rudy’s left, the centre chair, is controlled by an Indian woman. Her bright clothes and cheery banter adding to the brightness started by cross dresser guy. She gets the boys (no girls come here) and short men. Even then she has to stand on a stool to reach the top of the handsome Laotian teen she is trimming. His mother is trying to keep a younger brother out of trouble, her broken English struggling to say the words, older brother filling in the blanks for her.

The last chair is run by a Moroccan. He's a quiet man, quick with scissors and razor. He has completed two heads to one each from his colleagues. He has a big toothy grin. Each tooth with dark empty gaps between. His dark eyes taking in all. A happy hum.

Beside him his next customer, an old Greek man. Another Russian, though staidly dressed, me, and between me and Laotian mom, a Jew.  He owns the jewellery shop up the road. This week he hung going out of business signs and a for sale notice.

“I hope you aren't selling to the Chinese” says the Greek. They're coming in. Two weeks ago they took over the Church. Took down all the English signs and put up their language. A debate was entered. I, now in Rudy’s chair sat fearfully still while Rudy opined about the merits of the Chinese coming to the neighbourhood while scraping bits of errant hair from my back, necks, and jowls. His opinions were met with concurrence and disagreement.

The debate fell into awkward silence. India woman broke it: “They took the derelict Uniting Church and fixed the bell tower, painted the trim and doors, fixed the landscape, replaced the fence, and paved the lot. They have advertising in all our languages inviting us to their Church. They are offering free English lessons. They might be Chinese but they are uniting. They will be good neighbours. They are just like us.

And we all agree. A shop full of immigrants uniting in our acceptance, feeling welcome with each other in this land. 

Bound

There, is this place

Wrapped in ornate card

A thin piece of leather

The remains of a spirit sacrificed

To seal this journal

With the pages stories

Strung together

In layers of truth

And lies

And misconceptions

With love

And heart break

My children are all within

The ones I grew with

Battled and defended

Profound the dangers

We prevailed to slay or allay

The haunting of lineage

My children grown from the uncertainty

My doubts never of them

To blossom their stories

And my children mine

The blessing beyond reproach

All love and support

For me and beyond

My truths hidden from you

A shield protection

To bring you forward

With lineage blessings

God’s gift for me, for you, for your mother

Shared and unshared

Supported as best I can

Where some say selfishly

To fill the emptiness within

With children from my day

Those who know me and quietly understand

Who will love me and will stand with me to fight the ghosts

That will close my pages

Bound I am

To you all

This tome of tales

Romances, comedies

Love stories, and tragedies

They stand the test

While these pages continue their long purposed turn

I will stand for just

I will live for pure

I am here

Your brother

Your father
All this love

ache

it niggles at me constantly

sometimes great sometimes small

how oh how did I get it so wrong

that anyone could stoop so low

so to threaten their own

to derive failure over another.

yet will you ever be satisfied

never says I

the hunger and thirst to get even

compels your very existence

at the detriment of all others

and then you wonder where the love went

I watch from afar trapped

my very blood waning while I remain

a helpless now hapless soul

confirmed in your very actions

the type of person you truly are

I know then my steps were correct

he may perish and never again will I see him

penalised by deception and greed

wronged by hatred left so long gone

I ache for you cause I was so wrong

were you not a good person at one time

where did that person go?

The Dud

To have bombed

And not connected

No failure of launch

The failsafe switches

An immediate

Safe turn to off

To code them on again

Requires two keys

Impassive peace reins then

A truce beholden

The blue aftermath

A first response

Classically conditioned

Learned and placated

The dud turns within

Sensitive the role

Perspicacity the valour side of better

Di

Di

Double take again, dis

Lessened of course to an insult

With added function

Eliding to discourse untended

If intended then disturbed

Is that multiplicity of incensed

- thought -

you understood the collective figurative

triangulated n=1 though there is no won

equals more

as do other geometries

this simple slight

of(f) hand

adds to the dimensional focus

albeit latitudinal it may go in every direction

sort of(f) course

your approach a disciplined reproach

designed to cause me to die

right away 

if possible but there’s added disturbance

this truth 

the distance much greater

than geographical discoursed

the life force that moves me

is also the one that will pull

this ethereal body from the precipice black pull

of vengeful tactic of damning abnormality

to factual normality 

this joy

di-fold? dis fold?

nay 501 and then some

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jekyll my Hyde

well then

or not

evidently

how can I put into words

when the words cannot be there

how can I contain the hurt

when to release would expose me

my being my rules

these bind me together

tightly strung

emotionally aware

emotionally bereft

evidently

this mortal coil varies

unique among each of mortality

thwarting connection

by rendering low the being  

well then

no use crying further

to move forward is an imperative

unwrapped and unwound

the wounded left a flower placed

apology does not seem suited

though it is tried

a hollow render of this reflective self
and reasoned excuse an unrepentant loss

yet nevertheless

lost

Tired

Been at it so long

So hard. Too hard. 

All that energy. 

Expended

For what

There was effort

I've done my best

And I sure hoped it was enough. 

It wasn't of course

For everyone

They the relentless

Never content. 

Until the tired

Becomes unending sleep

I am tired  

Too tired

For now. 

The Liars

You pissed your bed again, god what a tool.

Why didn’t you win that race?

Really, you let your team down by dropping that ball.

A D, you are such a retard.

What do you mean he beat you up, why didn’t you fight back?

Couldn’t you hold it?  You’re on your own with that mess.

I don’t care if you don’t like it you will sit here all fucking night if need be till it is all eaten.

A C, well at least it’s better than a D.

What do you mean you don’t like Church; you will go to hell if you don’t go.

God doesn’t like bad little boys.

So you are sick, I get sick too.  Clean up your own puke.

This is going to hurt me more than it will hurt you.

It’s just a little blood, and clean my belt.

This is my house, this is my car, I just let you live here.  I’ll smoke if I bloody well want to and you will bloody well breathe it in.

So what if you’re naked.  If I want to come in while you are bloody well bathing I will.

I will touch you if I want, you’re just a kid and what I say you must do.

You are such a retard.

A B, if you had just studied harder you would have got an A.

You are such a weakling, you deserve to be pissed on.

I was such a beauty till you came along.

I make you crazy, you drive me crazy and it’s all your fault.

You are such a weird retard. 

I don’t care if you are hungry.

You don’t have a say here, you are grounded.

No, you cannot date.

Allowance?  Ha, consider yourself lucky I let you live.

Get me another drink.

Get me another drink.

Get me another drink.

Light my fag.

You’re a fucking faggot aren’t you?

I don’t care if you have to work, you need to do the grass.

What do you mean you lost your job.  You are such a retard.

An A, did you cheat?

Honour role? Why didn’t you tell me, I would have come to your graduation.

You are too serious about that girl.

You are too serious.

He touched you, why would you let him do that?  I hope you beat the fucking faggot to a pulp.

You didn’t, you are a faggot yourself then aren’t you.  Let me put this pipe there.  There. There.  There.

I am going to kill you.

I am going to kill you while you sleep.

How come you moved away?  You missed the party we made for you.

God look at you, you are getting fat.

Running is a pointless sport.

Remember that race that year you won the championship, the one where you came last and puked. 

You’re such a tool.

Three of them, that’s all?  I hope you drew blood.

Can’t afford to come? One word: credit card.

What do you mean you can’t get a credit card.  You are obviously irresponsible.

How come you are so skinny?

You are too young to get married.

I am too young to be a grandparent.

Why do you think you need to be at the birth?  I’m paying for this trip.  You don’t love me.

Well I’m sure she is sick because of something you did wrong dear.

Another?  Well don’t expect me to help.

Get a better job.  I don’t want to work anymore.

No, don’t touch me.

I don’t care.

We need more money.

You are never home anymore.

Another?

I don’t care you are in hospital.  It’s late, find your own way home.

Good bye?

You are a fucking cheat.

Another?

You are getting fat.

No, I am not going to see help with you.  You’re the problem not me.

Don’t I’m not interested.

You are such a worthless tool.  I don’t know why the kids even like you.

No

Not interested

It’s my medications.

I just don’t love you anymore.

Go sleep somewhere else.

What do you mean you lost your job.  You are so useless.  Don’t expect me home when you get here.

I need a new car.

Just find a job.

What do you mean less money? Well don’t expect me to make the shortfall.

No.

I don’t care if you lose your job, I am not moving.  Just go get another.

What do you mean less money?

You are too fat to do that.  So you finished, big whoop.

You’re leaving?  And just as I was thinking we might again.

Give me money.

Give me money.

I will when you give me money.

You’re fat.

So you lost your job.  I don’t care.  Give me money.

You know in three years it will be all over again.

Give me money.

Give me your money.

Give me all your money.

And give me all hers too. 

You are a useless tool and I am going to ruin you.

I could just die.  It would be so much easier.

I am so damned depressed.

I am a worthless soul.  I should die.

Not true.  I don’t want to die.

I want to live.

And I shall live.

The lies, the liars, the depressors, the depression.

You do die.

For the sake of truth.

Amen

“Hey!

Do you believe in our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ?

Or are you one of those non believers?

One of those heathens who do not go to church.”

Hmmm.

Me and THE church and all those other churches.

We just don’t get along so well.

They’ve said disparaging things about me.

And my children, things I know to be untrue.

Cause I’ve seen in their faces all that is good.

Churches are only as good as the men and women who run them.

They are not God places.

They are places people go to attempt to celebrate God.

Who or what ever God is.

Me, well I just know there is a higher power.

I cannot attach gender nor substance

I just have faith that I am being watched over.

And this higher power has me attached to others.

Has granted me the power to feel with, for, and about others.

Has shown me sunsets and risen me to sunrise.

Has spread before me the beauty of our planet.

And has shown me the horrible things we do to it.

I’ve been exposed to bullying, harassment, and to pain.

And given care to nurse my wounds.

I’ve been given life and been protected.

Challenge has been placed before me and when I failed

Have felt the presence of sympathy and understanding

So long as I fail on my terms, trying my best.

And when I don’t try, then I have deserved my due. 

I can accept that.

I am a believer. 

I have faith and have experienced first hand the power from my faith.

I just can’t put a name or a gender or stories to my faith.

Nor attend an edifice to my faith.

But I’ll tell you, its pretty darn incredible.

Portent of Trust

So it seems thought I

There can and should be trust

Instead harbinger cast an ugly shadow
enabling others of like mind to do its bidding.

In terror I took to ground

Cowered under the sabre rattling

This massive and growing pit gnawing at me

Apart from self the monster consumed my good.

The force of compassion

It is lost to you now and forever

And we have rallied the right to crusade

Taking to the ramparts we nibble at the foundations.

There is nothing to lose now

Except my ability to remain, to be alive

This contributing member of humanity

For loss renders an empty voiceless soul lost for time.

Helpless to proceed I shall purposely fail

For I needed to lead a noble calling

To be that who provides and is responsible

On real terms for real people to serve.

That nobility might be slashed from me

By a sword of wanton covetousness

Unbalanced and unsustainable and ironically

Contrary to the balance this new enemy claims to espouse.

Who knew in intolerable satiated greed

You might destroy that which you claim to need

To render helpless that you feel necessitates your very existence

What then will you do?

Quarantine

Placed in containment 

Perhaps recovery is imminent 

For most

An isolate is destined

So it seems

To determined loneliness

Contact is denied

And this pounding pain

Waves unchecked once more

Repulsed as it were

Replaced in voids

As empty echoes of hopeless desire

Reverb through blank black

Nails dive torn

Through these sheets

Woken over

A constant scream silently

Urges

Unmet

It must be willingly given

Mortally wounded by manners

The condemned hangs alone

My Suicide

Should the incomprehensible 

Become your victory

You lose anyway

Because contrary to your belief

I've nothing of what you want.

Your win would strip away all dignity

I would become this empty shell

Incapable of being able to support

Myself

Let alone your greed

And my life would cease

And many more destroyed with it

But you want this anyway

Don't you?

Of course you do. I am better dead than alive to you. Despite the cost. 

clock radio

the voice is a buzz

clicks in and fading out

periodic silence

a flying insect in and out of ear reach

what is that

you mentally ask

from where do you talk

to me

a collapsed soul

failed under the weight

of failed passed

step into light

i

this is me

tis all about me

a bout of narcissistic misadventure

to whet a solitary soul

ridden with an illogical guilt

secure in the understanding

it isn't me

except for being attacked

for gilt of none

so a zero sum game

where associates and the associated 

will lose themselves 

to an imbalance 

cause?

is in how it is stated

reason driven into void

a vengeful rational 

this cause of harm

and caught

me

wanting what is responsible 

my wealth is in my nature

i faced the great adventure

me

going when you did not

and then once you tasted

and enjoyed it's sweet nectar

yet selfishly have not learned

organic growth requires nurture

an earned place to be able to say

it was all me

i stood alone and earned this

for me

and pride then peace it's yours

keep an eye on i

not on me

the breach

he watched carefully

returned frequently

his lop wheeled bicycle squeaking its

and his

presence

a jump and clear

across the gap

while the agent was occupied elsewhere

she watched hopefully

the soft flakes falling

covering her car in a warm blanket

the ice formed

the streets filled

praying the clear

will leave her free

from clearers finding fining furiously

I held closely

responsibility and reasonability

to find none where fair is concerned

and that grab

for unearned living

taking a step of unwarranted illegality

to bury balance deeply

in loopy holes unjust

bravado hides

the painful emotion

your words insight incites

that bare fear

unfounded guilt shared

senesce senseless

common ground with your others

free with in the stacks

that space we need to cross

an unintended gap in time

we cannot live to standards

beyond our control

yet you mandate them to civility

society mean hearted

so our holes grow deeper and wider

yet we will to be alive

we are messengers among you

made by the whole

a reminder to the few

staying heads high hearts low

just.

so we can

be a part apart 

across the breach

Mind the Gap

Who exactly makes the choice?

Is it me, a spirit free?

Or perhaps the choice is made for me.

It is all such a swirl yes?

These bombarding feelings

Bubbling up dread then relief

And finally interconnected joy

Provided things go our way

Is it a reaction to my decisions?

Or are we part of a wider play

A stage not of our choosing

Destined for negative when we forget our role

Or god forbid, choose an unpopular way

And then ovation when we deliver

The critics heaping praise upon conforming

Not so different, my creativity might be stifled

And that fear is mostly up here though manifest there.

Mind the gap.

What does that mean?

Does my mind have a gap that place where choice is made?

Or made for me?

I can leap to safety

Or step into that unknown

See how I land.

onor

that scent has haunted me

slight spice over a pungent 

like the hanging odour of a freshly sharpened pencil. 

and once completed another

mingled amassed emotions end

exhausted our shared fragrance that of fresh made paper.

perhaps we should write stories together.

Afterglow

Do you smoke after...

... well, hmmm, you know. (red faced, but why)

I don't know. I've never checked.

That was the usual gag line response.

Young lads with knowledge gained

From Rat Pack movies, comedy gags,

And lavatory intellectualism usually followed by nervous giggles

An all knowing mass of hormonal nothing

Divided from the subjective objectives of our imaginations

By a mere wall.

Were these conversations taking place there too?

We imagined from black and white

The post conversations punctuated with the orange ashen glow

Spirits of tobacco sensually circling talks of future opportunity

With truths maybe still unknown 

Hidden buried deep within 

Still

A future now, and it is all changed

Cigarettes are dangerous

And smoking in bed well...

Do you smoke after?

I don't know, I've never checked.

The words remind me anew

From the new blue screens of our silent afterglow. 

Despair

Who are you?

Who exactly are you?

Or what?

Why do you grab my chin that way?

Crushing my cheeks into my teeth?

Do you feel that pain?

This woman who could not care?

Did not care?

For me?

As I hurtled to that train you held, me?

And then was it you who forced me to break?

That cold bleak prairie night inexplicably warm?

Was that you?

As I stood mezmerized at my falls?

The chilled frost was layering in that dark, it cracked?

And you talked with me again didn't you?

Did you see your father?

He will hold you, you know?

And will he understand? Forgive me?

Have I lost my way?

Attacked over and over by, by, by what I ask?

You've clutched me again?

But the water is cold isn't it?

It will be quick I think?

There is nothing quick here just ice reposed a question of moral outrageous railing against that so called perfect dream where I was but a two bit actor in that stage of your design salvaged from the edge by cared now by love of those who see my pain through your petty vengeance I shall live in spite of you that clutch to my throat impacting my chest rises above this unable to enable 

Taciturn v Shorn

There, it’s an obscurity

Making the presence known

A coldness down the spine

Manifest unease

Curled a dog in silent fear

Nose to tail a single

Quizzical eye to the unknown

How dare you threaten.

That foul stench of greed

Insatiable need to lord over

What?

One cannot own

Where there is no capacity to love

Affecting affectation, the pretentious show

Oh the tears

How has this dark energy been tuned

A statement of war

A confrontation that is due

To cause all impacted ruin

Much to a selfish satisfaction

And sick desire to static

A stench foul is spreading

Where went that pride

Distinct needless of none

It is slept long enough

And needs to participate

The remains of the great experiment

Have been freed

Will they be merged? Never

What will rise friend or its foe

And now I live every day afraid,
And tomorrow?