Month: January 2025

The Poem as Pugilist

/ johnlmalone / 22 Comments

This Poem the Pugilist.

This Poem knocked me sideways

blew me away, made me blurt out 

F**K from my green plastic chair

from where I was reading it and

caused my neighbour sedately

washing his car to call out

over the fence, You okay, mate?

Yes, I answered a poem just punched me

in the face.

Sermon on the Mount

Driving home from work today

I have to slam on the brakes

for a man crossing against the light.






When he reached the other side





he pounded his fist





into the crook of his arm





and called my mother a whore.










I wished I had a gun.





I would put my car in park,





cock the hammer





and level the barrel at his heart.










Amidst his blubbering pleas





I would talk to him about courtesy,





patience, kindness and love





then let him rise and run free.










I awoke to the blare of horns.





The driver behind me





threw up her arms





and asked if I was fucking retarded.










by Jason Tandon










*pic by pinterest






			

	


			
				


	

							
Believe
						

			 / johnlmalone						 / 45 Comments
								

			


		

		






Believe





Sometimes you just got to believe.





Have Faith.





I’m not talking Jesus here





but a more down-to-earth faith





that writers need have.





Sometimes you just got to listen.





To your Muse.





When she gives you something, say a stanza of verse,





and you question it, you have to listen.





It’s okay to question it initially but if the Muse insists,





folds her arms and gives you that searing stare





then the ‘Stet’ rule applies.





You let it be.





There used to be a magazine called ‘Stet’ —





I had a few poems published in it —





but ironically it folded after a few issues.





Don’t you fold.





If the muse insists, let it stand.





It wil be a beautiful thing. 










*pic by pinterest






			

	


			
				


	

							
Poets At Play
						

			 / johnlmalone						 / 44 Comments
								

			


		

		






Poets at Play.





I wrote these poems in the years





of Buoyancy and Hope





when the universe spoke in affirmatives





and only rarely said, ‘Nope!’










I had two dogs, a cat,





three children and a wife





and a steady job that helped





steer us through the strife










But as the years passed





things turned a little sour





my poems changed too





but rarely became dour










My poems became more nuanced





oft in a minor key





recording the boos and barks





from life’s menagerie






			

	


			
				


	

							
The Room
						

			 / johnlmalone						 / 42 Comments
								

			


		

		






The Room.





When kids were bad





really bad





they were sent to the withdrawal room





where in silence they could reflect





‘upon their sins’ as the Deputy put it.





All schools had them then.





Many decades later





when checking on an Aged Care Home





for mum





I came across a dishevelled woman





pounding the windows of a bare office.





Time out, the matron said.





Reflecting on her sins? I was tempted to say.





and back in ’23 I was ‘sent to Coventry’





for kicking the cat off the bed.










*pic by pinterest











			

	


			
				


	

							
fracas
						

			 / johnlmalone						 / 47 Comments
								

			


		

		






fracas





there’s been a fracas





there’s been a fight





there’s been terror 





during the night





*





a bird and cat





going hell for leather





a bamboozled garden





a flurry of feathers





























			

	


			
				


	

							
Maiden Voyage
						

			 / johnlmalone						 / 56 Comments
								

			


		

		








Maiden Voyage.





So good to get out along the lake





wind whistling in my ears, arms swinging flamboyantly





like a wind turbine





big straw hat on my head out for its maiden voyage





looking like a flying saucer





firmly strapped under my chin





so the rogue wind can’t rip it off and thrust it in the water





like it did to my prized Lonsdale cap.






			

	


			
				


	

							
Impossible Things
						

			 / johnlmalone						 / 32 Comments
								

			


		

		






Impossible Things





People are asking me impossible things





to levitate without wings










or sing bright soliloquies





like blackbirds do in their trees










To explicate what is concealed





in the hum of a spinning wheel










or the patience to Sunday read





their whopping new Sci-Fi screed










Ease up, I say.I’m merely human.





 Not a Merlin nor a moomin















    

  • pic by pinterest
    • 




  • 







			

	


			
				


	

							
The Book. Love 2
						

			 / johnlmalone						 / 30 Comments
								

			


		

		






*





I love the hollow sound





my hardback makes





when I drum my fingertips





against the covers





*





I love the flawed





and flailing characters





in ‘Tell Me Everything’:





Pam, the secret alcoholic





*





and Rob, 





her first husband





with his low sperm count: 





all the wayward wives 





* 





and Sally out in the field





who had the glow





yellow as a daffodil:





liver cancer





*





and I know,





Elizabeth Trout,





the author, 





loves them too 











			

	


			
				


	

							
my BIG day
						

			 / johnlmalone						 / 87 Comments
								

			


		

		






Today’s my birthday. A big one.





It’s not 21! Don’t ask.





My lovely granddaughter, the youngest, phoned first





to catch me before she heads off to work. 





She is the FIRST person to hear the title poem of my new collection.





She was thrilled. She loved it. I was thrilled she loved it. 





The concept of the collection,, the title, popped into my head shortly after I woke up.





Thank you Muse.





She said it’s to make up for that very early wake up call the other day. 





Then the cool change hit ! what a gift !





I get to walk along the lake instead of grinding away at the gym. 





What else?





Oh yeh. I got to meet James in Unit 6. First time we chatted since I loved in 5 years ago. 





I’m at my laptop now sending a confirmation email to my new cleaner. [Mikes still in hospital after being hit by a van while riding his bike [ femur broken in two places, three busted ribs, out for 3-4 months]. 





Anyhow greeting to all my WordPress friends from the birthday boy 🙂











			

	


			
				


	

							
The Hard Night
						

			 / johnlmalone						 / 23 Comments
								

			


		

		






The Hard Night,





It was a hard night.





And it began early.





The Aussie Open and Nick’s big comeback match





after a two year break.





I sat down with my Tiramisu and watched the opening set





drag.





By the second I decided I’d hit the sack and check in the morning.





But had I taken my meds?





Should I risk it or risk taking a double dose?





I chose the former.





Nightmares harangued me then that call in the middle of the night





from an unknown number.





A woman deliriously drunk garbled on.





She spoke in tongues but it wasn’t the Holy Spirit.





I hung up and tried HARD to sleep.





Please don’t try this at home.





I read the NIV what Jesus said about worry.





Only four hours to light, I reasoned.





I can do this.





And I did.





In the morning I checked the results.





I did a hard night.





But Nick did it harder.