To my step daughter, wherever you may be tonight,
you are the apple of my eye, you are my sunlight.
Liara, I swear, I unconditionally love you the way any father should,
and if you were in danger, I’d sacrifice myself to save you, you know that I would.
You know I loved your mother, and like you, I loved her with all of my heart,
and I’m sorry that the winds of change inevitably forced us apart.
Now, the Pacific Ocean, it stands like a gargantuan wall between both me and you,
but believe me when I announce, I can still feel your love just as you can still feel mine too,
and come June 26th this year, we’ll be reunited once again,
for this father-daughter story of ours, it is the stuff of legend.
Don’t ever believe I’d forget your birthday, I wouldn’t miss it for the world,
and you must know there is no one else out there for me, you are my only girl,
and when I reach American soil, I’ll wrap you in my arms, and kiss you on the head,
and that night, you wouldn’t dream of loneliness, no, you will dream of happiness instead.
At the same time, I will dream of your future occupation;
whether you will be a lawyer, a shrink or a musician?
A journalist, doctorial staff, an actor or a member of government,
like a politician, or perhaps either a Prime Minister or President?
Now Liara, come your birthday you shall be granted my present; a gift of continued support and love,
and the realisation that you are the only angel whom I pray to in all of Heaven above.
SYNOPSIS: Nat Banyon, a man who has been away from his home by the shoreline for several months now returns in the hopes of being reunited with his friends and loved ones and to return to the same exact life that he left.
Warning: There is a weak sex scene in this, but still, a weak sex scene is a sex scene all the same, so viewer discretion should be advised.
The nurse gently pushed me out through the doors and into the light of the sun, the wheelchair bumping along the stairs before reaching the concrete tiles below. Trees rustled around me whilst the wind licked eagerly at their leaves. Numerous vehicles could be seen driving by on the road before me, the bus pulling up in front of the curb. It was a terrific yellow in colour that perfectly matched the sun above, whilst at the same time I grimaced as the nurse unbuckled the strap across my waist.
‘Now you take it easy Nat’ said the nurse, her short blonde hair blowing across her face. ‘That was a nasty hit you took son. We don’t want you back here anytime soon.’ She pushed the hair out from her eyes, revealing the small freckles that were placed evenly across her cheeks.
‘Don’t worry Jody, I won’t need anybody to hold my hand where I’m going’ I said with a smile. ‘Home is where the heart is, that is what they say and I know mine like the back of my hand.’ I smiled to myself before becoming deadly serious once more. ‘I am going to miss you though. You and the rest of the staff’
‘That’s sweet Nat’ said Jody, pointing in the direction of my transport. ‘Hurry along now, or you’ll miss your bus.’
With one last smile I made my way from the wheelchair with my small bag of belongings and up the steps into the interior of the bus. I walked to the back where there was still plenty of space, the trip home giving me the chance to think over all that had happened thus far to make me land in this situation.
Nat Banyon’s the name. I have jet black hair that seems rather irregular for somebody who grew up living on the beach as the generalisation is that every such person like me has to have hair that is light in colour. I have dark brown eyes that look like the coral that is found down on the ocean’s surface and a face and body that has basically been crafted by the ocean.
I originally came from a beach up north, which is where I was headed back to now. Surfing had been my life and Chloe Rivers, the most beautiful girl in school had been my life’s passion. Yet in life there was always competition and in my case it came in the shape of Tyrese Lowman. Not only did he want to be the best surfer, but he wanted my girl as well. That bastard!
Long story short, I wanted to put him in his place and so, we raced. Problem was, not everything went according to plan. On the final wave that would have undoubtedly made me look incredibly awesome in comparison to Tyrese, I was flipped over on my board by an unsuspecting freak wave, slamming my head on a gargantuan rock sticking out of the drink. I don’t remember what happened next, or how the race turned out. All that springs to mind is my body lying on the beach, seaweed in my hair and the bitter taste of salt in my mouth. I didn’t know anything; not my name, not my social security number, but worse of all, I didn’t know Chloe. This alternate version of me was bloody ridiculous in comparison to the original Nat.
Suddenly out of the blue this lime green hippie van pulls out of nowhere and suddenly I’m riding with them. I know it sounds out of this world, but when you’ve no memory the first thing that occurs to you feels like it was the kind of thing you were doing your entire life. I should be glad it wasn’t the manure truck that showed up. Anyway, I end up in their band, lead guitarist and later even background vocals, singing songs about how we hated surfers and loved trees, but especially about sex. Actually, come to think of it, that’s probably what all the lyrics were about really.
I wasn’t very good at singing, but hey, nobody heard me over the blare of the other instruments. Besides, most people came to check out the lead singer, Wynona, this Goth wannabe constantly dressed in black, half her face covered by a unicorn tattoo. Unbeknown to any of the spectators though, she was with me. I know, it sounds terrible, but since I had no memory of Chloe, Wynona seemed like the perfect girl. Now that I think about it though, it scares the crap out of me.
Yet, she was always there though, Chloe. She came to nearly every concert, presumably waiting for my memory to return. She once came up to talk to me, but I shut her down, saying ‘go away surfer chick, we don’t want you here.’ It was later that I came to realise how I had hurt Chloe, after my memory was restored. Well, to an extent anyway.
During this guitar solo this glass bottle is thrown at the stage and hits me square in the head. A few minutes later after the grogginess begins to dissipate, I open my eyes and see Chloe leaning over me. ‘Surfer chick’ I say.
‘Surfer dude’ she replies, the two of us embracing one another.
Anyhow, afterwards I check myself into this hospital to get my memory back and to ensure there is no permanent damage to my brain from the injuries I sustained. Then, I’m sprung free and on my way back to civilisation. I only hope it’s the way I left it. I told Chloe not to visit me. I didn’t want her to see me until I was one hundred per cent once more. God, I bet she looks great!
Upon stepping off the bus and onto the pavement of the town I called home I instantly felt a sense of calm, everything appearing to be exactly the same as I had left it. The stores had not moved out, the fashion had remained the same and even the smell of beach side orange juice and surfer’s gel clung to the air as I smiled to myself before making my way up the street, bag slung over my right shoulder.
I quickly found myself at the local surf store located beside the beach, the gentle pounding of the waves drifting over to where I stood. It sounded as though the ocean was beckoning me back into Poseidon’s graces once more, as though I had never actually left.
My eyes wandered through the maze of necessary surf utensils to the counter where Chloe currently stood, resting her arms on the cabinets beneath her. As predicted, she looked spectacular. Her long blonde hair drifted across the counter, shining under the fluorescent lighting above. Her blue eyes glittered like icicles; her lips moist like the ocean itself; her radiant skin looking like a paradise waiting to be explored. She wore a short red shirt, her black bikini visible beneath it, whilst her brief denim shorts stuck to her body like glue. Looking up she saw me, a smile appearing on her face.
Before I had a chance to move however Tyrese appeared behind her, a dark scowl descending across his features. His tanned skin looked like barren rock under the flare of the lighting, his face resembling that of a caged gorilla. As always he had his shirt unbuttoned at the top to allow ladies to see his three chest hairs. Nothing had changed. He had done the exact same thing back in high school.
Luckily enough though it appeared Chloe was still my one and only girl. God, I just wanted Chloe to throw her legs around my waist so I could rush her over to my place and show her over the course of a few good hours my feelings for her had not changed in the months I’d being away.
I slowly walked over to her, wrapping my arms around her waist whilst staring at Tyrese who looked as though he had something on his mind.
‘Glad you could make it Nat’ he said in a deep, throaty voice. ‘We were all hoping you’d arrive in time for the annual surfing competition tomorrow.’
Chloe looked at me as though she were trying to warn me about the repercussions of my last surf championship.
‘But I’d understand if you’re not man enough to go through with it’ guffawed Tyrese.
‘No’ I grunted suddenly, Chloe appearing surprised, pulling away. ‘I’ll be fine.’
Noticing the signup sheet on the counter I picked up the biro and scrawled my signature amidst all the other wannabe surfing champions. ‘While I was away I spent a gargantuan period of time swimming in the gymnasium pool. I’m ready for a real challenge.’
‘Glad you didn’t lose your reckless attitude when you lost your mind’ grunted Tyrese, ‘see you tomorrow.’
Chloe shook her head as Tyrese walked away, before ushering me out of the store and in the direction of my place.
Upon arriving home Chloe mentioned that she had cleaned my place on a weekly basis since I had left in preparation for my heroic return. She appeared to be doing her best to keep her fears of tomorrow at bay and I did my best not to bring them up. When Chloe went to hug me once more she quickly pulled away after getting a whiff of my clothing. I smelt clean and fresh, whilst she smelt of the ocean. It was absolutely irresistible.
She loathed the hospital smell that lingered in my clothing and insisted on me ripping them off, removing most of the garments herself before rushing me into the shower and turning on the pressure as high as the aging taps would allow, the cold water drenching me from head to toe. It was like a full de-tox, any of the old which had been orchestrated by the knocks to the head being irreparably erased in a single moment in time as I felt the same old me beginning to come back to true form.
As the water ran through my hair and across my body I heard the creaking sound of the shower door opening once more. Chloe slowly clambered inside before closing the door behind her, her naked body joining mine in the midst of the moist arena surrounding us. Her breasts gently rocked from side to side, whilst her hair covered up her nipples which I slowly but surely removed before caressing that particular part of her body. She pushed her flawless body up against me as I felt a part of my body beginning to grow considerably hard as I dragged her face closer to mine before kissing passionately in the confines of the shower. Our mouths filled with both the water from the taps and the salvia from our mouths as I sucked gently upon her tongue, Chloe doing the same thing to mine. She pushed up against me once more and I felt myself beginning to enter her, such an exhilarating experience I had wanted to have happen again since the moment I had arrived in hospital, the mist from the warm water that began to make its way through the taps banning all from seeing inside.
The next day came so fast I barely had time to catch my breath before I suddenly found myself on the beach only minutes before my final showdown with Tyrese.
‘I hope you haven’t lost that fire which made you such a challenging opponent’ he grunted.
‘Not a chance of that ever occurring mate’ I said, ‘not in this lifetime anyway.’
It was a few seconds later after a rush of cool air washed over me that Tyrese said ‘I married Chloe.’
I stood flabbergasted at such words, my mouth opening before I closed it abruptly, unable to believe such a sentence. I was surprised that if it were true why Chloe had not informed me.
‘You’re lying’ I said.
‘Yeah’ said Tyrese. ‘But you know that I would have. If she had let me I mean. You know that I love her, just as you do. So I was thinking we could make this race a little more interesting, just between the two of us. The winner not only gets the respect of the crowd, but wins the heart of Chloe Rivers. The loser packs up his crap and leaves town, forever; which is exactly what you should have done in the first place.’
I shook my head. This was preposterous. I knew instantly there was no way I was ever going to agree to such lunacy, even if he was playing off my massive ego which came with professional surfer territory. There was no way I was going to risk the love of Chloe over some competition that I had already won numerous occasions before. Looking up into Tyrese’s face I smiled, pitying him for such desperate methods. I knew exactly what mattered in life and winning some surf competition was not one of them as I looked into the crowd, my eyes landing directly on Chloe, before I grinned in satisfaction.
‘I forfeit’ I said, turning around to Tyrese before beginning to leave the arena in exchange for a life with the girl of my dreams. Had I made the right choice?
SYNOPSIS: I have sometimes pondered what it would be like to have a relationship with a young woman who was Goth. This piece creates a hypothetical scenario of what it could be like to some degree.
This piece contains sexual references.
I wake up one morning and stare out the window as it fills up with mist,
looking back at the bed where you lie; you are impossible to resist.
The face of the clock staring back at me reports it is 8:10
as I stand here in my bedroom wishing it was last night again.
I must have hit that ‘snooze’ button what feels like a couple hundred thousand times
to look upon your beauty a little longer which is totally sublime.
I stare at your voluptuous figure and your amazing breasts,
last night was the greatest moment in all my life, who could have guessed?
At this point in time the sun begins to intricately shine
and I remember the day I became yours and you became mine.
I remember the first day we met; June 2009, in the second week,
originally when I laid eyes on you I found it difficult to speak.
In all truthful honesty, on that fated day in which we first met,
was an occurrence that I could never times infinity forget.
Surprisingly enough it was a sunny day, like today, in Melbourne Victoria,
as I began to speak to the single most beautiful woman in all Australia.
You wore a jet black outfit with tattoos across your body and incredible red hair,
all the feelings I had bottled up inside my soul for you I suddenly wished to share.
I confessed to you my feelings, as I marveled at your nose ring and stared into your turquoise eyes,
as I was suddenly and without remorse captured by an incredibly ravishing surprise.
I could not believe that someone with such unfathomable beauty could have feelings for me.
But, as it surprisingly turned out, you said I was like your personal stash of ecstasy.
You then introduced yourself and said your named was ‘Wilhelmina’,
before stating that you wished to travel to California.
You asked if I wished to accompany you around the world on a trip
and I said ‘I’d do anything if it meant I could taste your luscious lips.
In all the countries of the world you are the only woman I’d ever want to chase;
perhaps you could later pursue me too if you ever get tired of the human race.’
Inevitably, the question remains; ‘should I come with you or not?’
Such a question is irrelevant though for you are all I have got.
So, there I was travelling to America with the woman I cannot live without,
for that is ultimately what the story of this poem is entirely about.
When we stepped off that plane, such was a moment I would always remember,
for the temperature was extremely warm in the month of mid September.
We travelled in a terrific limousine to the local hotel of given choice,
listening all the while to every word you said as you spoke in that luscious voice.
Upon arrival at our destination, we hurried up to our room and marveled at the view.
It is in my belief however that Los Angeles could never be more beautiful than you.
You said the city was so ‘amazing’, but I just hope you realise,
you will always be and continue to grow more beautiful in my eyes.
I hope for my sake, in this city, you do not ever disappear,
for such is unfathomably the only thing that I truly fear.
To continuously have you in my life there is nothing that I wouldn’t do,
so please, whether you are in a hotel or a bar, save me a seat next to you.
Suddenly, this guy then comes up to us and asks ‘do you want a smoke?’
So there we are, the both of us, drinking alcohol and doing coke.
You may have been a young woman, but you certainly were no child,
who could have known in secret you were so incredibly wild.
The people living amongst us believed our behaviour to be so dirty,
but I can assure them all we’ll still be acting this way when we are thirty.
We eventually made our way back that night to the hotel room,
playfully pretending to be this great city’s new wife and groom.
I gently and with ease spun you around and massaged your fabulous breasts;
in comparison to all the world’s chocolate you always taste the best.
I silently whispered into your ear ‘I want to love you forever’
and you replied ‘I like the way that sounds; I’ve heard that before however.’
You said ‘I brought you along cuz I like you and yet I’m still unsure how you feel for me,’
I only hope you soon realise wild girl; I do not ever want to let you go free.
For if the rest of the world is the darkness, then you most definitely are the light
and I said without a stutter nor a flinch ‘shit, I’ll be anything you want tonight.’
In truth, I have this incredibly dangerous time bomb ticking away inside my heart;
I fear if I do not unleash what’s locked up inside it is going to tear me apart.
For I love your body, from your head to your feet, from your breasts to your knees,
I want you right now in this life of mine and to have you I beg and plead.
‘Please Wilhelmina’ I ask desperately, ‘may you please make love to me now,
I do not know how to accomplish this, but I need to be with you somehow.’
You begin to slowly remove from your person your clothes; revealing beneath your fabulous body.
From your breasts to your vagina, you are physically representative of the perfect melody.
Your fabulously naked figure is more beautiful than love itself,
an unfathomable beauty more powerful than all of this world’s wealth.
Tonight, alone in this room, it is only you and me naughty girl;
who is the single most sexiest woman in this entire world.
My lady of the night, tonight you are to be mine, just as I am faithfully yours,
I want to make wild, passionate love to you against all of these walls, windows and floors.
To have you more than once tonight I will need to be courageous;
for me, making love to you is incredibly advantageous.
As I dine upon your body I come to the conclusion that I find nothing more delicious,
than your ample and silky breasts, your moist and succulent vagina and your sweet, wet clitoris.
In all the world however there is one thing that I cannot fathom;
that being the intensity of this extraordinary orgasm.
There is nothing more beautiful to me than you as you lie naked in my bed;
I lie atop of you, caressing your nipples and slowly giving you a head.
The opposite of what I feel would be to find this relationship is ending,
the love I constantly supply to you I am most certainly not pretending.
I am glad however that this nightmare has never come to pass Wilhelmina
and before long the both of us found ourselves in the comfort of Australia.
Over the years that I have known you, there is one thing that I have come to learn;
as long as I continue to feel true love for you I will forever burn;
and in all of the known galaxies and the many stars above
there is not a single good thing in this universe; without love.
For anyone who has read my former poem ‘Untitled Beauty’, one would know that I based the piece upon a beautiful young woman who dressed up as Jedi Master Aayla Secura from the Star Wars universe for a ComicCon. I do not know her true identity, and I would really appreciate it if someone in the world could actually tell me such information…the link to the image and additional info on this topic can be found in the ‘end notes’ section of the original Untitled Beauty post which can be found at this link: http://wp.me/p24LWs-2H
This here is not a love poem – no, it is a poem of longing,
about hope, prayer, fantasy, discovering oneself and belonging,
which begins as every morning inevitably does. The light breaks through a moderate sized hole in the wall; the ominous ‘they’ call it a window,
but I call it a distraction, for it wakes me from my slumber where I dream I strike up a conversation with a rare beauty by saying ‘hello’,
rare beauty who is you. All the money in the world cannot buy me another minute in this fabulous fantasy,
where I kissed your sumptuously luscious and tender lips and you held onto my big, broad shoulders oh so delicately,
and I fear, the only way to experience this moment once again, is to physically find you and express
‘you are the only lover Untitled Beauty I have been frequently and hopelessly attempting to impress,
for you are the only young woman in all the world, if not the known universe I am constantly thinking of,
my sumptuously delightful lady of whom I hope to forever and always unconditionally love.
It is true, and it is a fact that I do not dare deny, that never have either of us yet met,
but even with that said, you are a young beauty I can never easily in all my years forget,
and if I am supposed to move on from this fantasy, where am I supposed to move on to?
for no one else in this great round world could ever tame this heart of mine for no one else is you.
Additionally, if I am supposed to move on, where am I supposed to go?
for you are the single greatest adventure of all time that I will ever know.
It is also true that I do not know your name, but, my darling, it is a two way street. You could ask ‘what name do you go by?’ and I’d reply ‘you may call me Naughty Nefarious’
and a giggle may suddenly spring forth from the corner of your mouth. I swear it is no joke, for a name is a name, and mine is mine, for my world becomes so much more delicious
the second I lay my eyes upon your pretty face. I feel so invulnerable, but the truth of it all is, I really ain’t all that tough,
and I fear that those three words that mean so much, but also so little, for they are said too often, in regards to you, I have not said enough.
Ma’am, I am certain you grew up in America, where as I’m from down under, from a state far adjacent to that of Perth,
and it would most definitely seem from our noble beginnings when we were born, God wanted to give us both quite the wide berth.
I dedicated my life to writing and gaining a doctorate, whilst you dedicated yours to staying at home,
loyally watching over your loving family with respect, like an unflinching, always trustworthy garden gnome.
In your spare time you use your remarkably athletic form and go dancing in the grim shadows,
whilst back in Australia, not everything is the stereotypical gullies and meadows.
However, what the two of us have in common are the numerous stars that we watch at night, and the clouds all black and blue;
that unusually warm touch you feel right now upon your shoulders young lady – that’s me, romantically thinking about you,
for I frequently hunger for your passionate affection, and I swear I’ll starve without you near,
and I wish we weren’t separated by oceans and continents, I wish you were with me right here.
I often wonder what is happening with the world, and where the old one I once knew and loved inevitably went,
and why all of the once potent emotion is being poured into pain and horror, and if it is emotion well spent.
What happened to the age old conception ‘treat others the way you want to be treated’?
for in this world, truth justice and mercy are sacrificed, and true love is defeated.
I hope this inevitability ain’t my fate, and if so, I ask you, give me another toss at the game of luck, give me a second chance,
for although I ain’t no proud patriot who can fight through thick and thicker, I am a strong believer in emotion, reminiscence and romance,
and I can assure you, I would bleed on the Union Jack to make sure the faithful stripes stay bright red.
No matter whether I’m alive or in my time of dying, I feel there’s nothing more to be said,
but I would ask that you do not become overburdened with sad and depressing emotions and burst into tears for me, and that you happily smile in remembrance instead,
and if the world was plunged into war tomorrow, I would participate if it meant I could keep dreaming about you inside my head.
When imagining a fantasy world in which we know one another I can picture a location of common place where you’re listening to Metallica
over the radio, their awesome rock n’ roll classics ripping through the speakers as you loyally jam to their tunes, before introducing yourself as ‘Aayla.’
It must be an expensive persona you are living as we attempt to guess your origins. ‘No’ you say, ‘I ain’t from Launceston, and I ain’t from Maribyrnong.
No, I am from nowhere near here. Instead, I come from a different place entirely with traditional working man roots, where Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Wrecking Ball’ is the theme song;
where the widely renown Star Wars theme is sung every night before dinner;
where the biggest loser can almost always become the biggest winner.
That’s right ladies and gents, I come from the mighty United States, and I will certainly return there soon,
so if you’ve something to tell me I suggest you confess it real quick, and by that, I mean this afternoon,
cuz come tomorrow I’ll be long gone, and young man, you especially, will be left on your own,
and being a pure blooded California gal and a pseudo Australian I can tell you twice, it’s awful cold when you are all alone.’
I have this uncanny feeling inside my heart and soul, one where I believe legitimately to have already lost you once, but I promise I won’t lose you again twice,
and to this I can assure you to ensure my promise fulfilled, I will commit to anything you ask of me and do whatever you say and I would take any advice,
no matter how fruitless it may seem, for I am officially sick of being alone, and all of this empty space;
I am sick to my stomach at being away from you and wherever you want I will meet you, any time or place.
For if feeling good is a crime (and I’ve never felt this good until I laid my eyes upon you), someone had better lock me up right now cuz I feel fantastic,
and in regards to all of your truth and beauty, and all the love in your gorgeous heart, I have officially become an addict
for you. But when it comes to love, perhaps I am simply and without a doubt incompetent
cuz I fall madly in love way too easily. Then again, perhaps I am a delinquent
for failing to expertly spot the difference between human life, unconditional never ending love and horrifying misery,
but even with this said, if I were to die tomorrow, I would never want to go to Heaven, unless you were up there waiting for me.
To have you rare angel, I will delve deep into formidable places where no hero dare goes,
and upon hearing this you might reply ‘really? Well, tell me Pinocchio, how long is your nose?’
I am no liar, you have to believe me when I say I think I love you, and to ensure your survival, I’d push you out of the way of a nuke.
You won’t ever need to be a fabulously rich duchess for me to love you, but if you were, and you were to ask of me, I’d gladly be your duke.
After hearing these words Untitled Beauty, it might be best that you throw away your key after locking all your windows, and barring all the doors,
and make a pact with Satan, or pray to whomever God you solely believe in, for no existing mortal entity can save you anymore
from my love, which is invulnerable to harm. However, in reality, I have to ask you, in regards to romance, how can it be a good thing if those we love are doomed to die,
after pledging all of our allegiances and our love into their lives, and rare angels such as yourself succumb to destiny and perish, before plummeting out from the falling sky?
But if this unfortunate fate were to become yours, to get you back, I can assure you, I would traverse through the village of the damned,
if it meant eternal happiness could return to me again, and I could one day have my loving heart safely under your command.
When the world is at its darkest, and I’m drowning in the depression of the rain
I simply sit back and gladly admire your beautiful picture once again,
and imagine what you might ask me if we were to meet. You’d enquire ‘Derek, Naughty, whatever title you choose to go by’, before asking what I am going to do for you,
and I’d truthfully reply ‘I would take the stars right out of the night sky if such an act could prove my love alive and whole, and I would paint ‘em pink and purple and even pure gold too!’
It may sound completely out of this world insane, but what I say is not a total fabrication, and it certainly ain’t a ruse;
if given but one opportunity to spend my life with anyone, you are the only person I’d always faithfully choose,
because sweet Aayla impersonator, you are without a doubt one in 7.4 billion.
Dressing up in all those outfits moreover, you look exactly like a saucy chameleon;
you look incredible; you look beyond inhuman; you look flawless; you are perfect undoubtedly,
and with those luscious red lips and that sugar sweet smile I just know you are destined to belong with me.
Sometimes the darkness wakes me up and sometimes the silence speaks so loudly it is deafening to behold,
for whenever I am without you Untitled Beauty, I suddenly feel so indescribably cold,
because it is only in your eyes that I believe I have found where I eternally belong
and never until this moment which stands before me now have I felt so immeasurably strong.
However, in this inhospitable place, I fear I might be labeled the interloper, or the pariah
because of you my darling, for being all that I’ll ever want, all that I’ll ever need; for being my eternal desire,
and, to put a stop to this, people may light up their torches and sharpen their pitchforks too, before coming to claim me,
and will point to those who can corroborate that it was I, the antagonist, who acted with such vile villainy,
for all the boys who look upon you are filled with lustful gluttony, and the women become so jealous
at your unfathomable angelic beauty, and as for I, you make me so romantically ravenous.
Remember when I said this was not a love poem my dear? Well, I have to admit that perhaps I lied,
and if such be the case you could always blame it on the demon I have within this heart of mine inside.
I can assure you, I do not write these words in order to gain power, and I will certainly never need the likes of money or fame,
especially after I win over your beautiful beating heart, for then I will have everything I’ll ever need once it’s you I claim,
and although I still don’t quite know you, from your personality to your values, from your general likes and the neighborhood
you grew up in, judging by your looks alone, you deserve to be erected centre stage in the middle of Hollywood,
and then, once I’ve identified who you are and more, as promised, I’ll spend my life staring lovingly into your eyes forever.
The chance, if even there was one which I doubt, of me falling out of love with you my darling rests somewhere between naught and never,
so if you have ever had grave concerns, I ask that you ‘don’t fret, don’t cry and don’t ever believe
that feelings from your heart unto mine is not the one thing that I have always wanted to achieve.’
THANK YOU FOR READING!
SYNOPSIS: A political poem aimed specifically at the Australian Prime Minister
Dear Madam Australian Prime Minister
there are some answers I wish for you to administer
in regards to the questions I have for you.
I have the time, and I certainly hope you have some too
to explain away the actions that you have made this year already and in the past,
and to give me the necessary closure, with the longevity to last.
I want to know why you have made so many changes, political and otherwise. I hope I haven’t alarmed you, nor startled you suddenly with a surprise,
because since I love this sun burnt and ruggedly beautiful country with an intense passion and I live inside her too,
I would like to know the reasons behind many of the changes that have been deliberately orchestrated by you.
Do you believe friendship can exist in the political arena? Do you think your predecessor did at one time?
That is of course before you assassinated him in a way that can only be described as outrageously sublime.
Now with your power reasserted, do you finally believe you have full control?
Do you moreover believe when the next election comes you will decimate the opposition at the polls?
Do you think your cabinet respects you? Do you think the Australian public will?
You have made some extraordinarily disastrous betrayals, which, although powerful are horrific still,
for instance, the carbon tax, which was not supposed to be instigated, or so I hear;
might I ask, is this the end of some massively alarming changes, or just the tip of the political spear?
I would like to know, Madam Australian Prime Minister, in you can we all find trust?
And you might reply ‘well, I am the leader of this great country, so I do suppose you inevitably must.’
Moreover, Madam Prime Minister, how are you adjusting to the life that is political fame?
Do you like that some people wave at you, some shake their heads, and people who didn’t know you now know your name?
Might I ask, how is this on you family? Do they respect each and every one of your decisions?
How will it be for them if this country suddenly falls into chaos or even total recession?
I guess this is one of the more major points I wish to stress; when you make decisions for the people, do you think of your family too?
Is there any available room in this political poem for them as well, or do you wish for me to solely aim all of my questions at you?
Furthermore, do you feel you are developing a paradise? A Garden of Eden? A stereotypical image of Heaven?
Do you think anyone agrees with you? Why don’t we ask leader of the Opposition Tony Abbot, or why not former Prime Minister Rudd, Kevin?
Moreover, some of your opponents have implied that you are some kind of devil,
whilst many of your supporters revere you for being some kind of savior; a heroine; a blessed angel.
Might you please state to me, in your own words, how you would honestly describe yourself?
Are you an honest, decent hardworking woman? Are you secured economically with a good amount of wealth?
It’s just that every year you seem to give yourself another substantial raise,
and journalists and reporters alike explain how you deserve it, along with all our praise.
I just can’t imagine how someone can be worth so much economically.
I mean, what is this? It’s not like the government is in need of a surplus of charity!
Do you provide yourself with every dollar you believe that you deserve? Is several hundred thousand dollars what you believe yourself to be worth?
At the same time on the streets there are people in need of this money, often from the moment of their birth.
This system is a lot like a monarchy, and since I was not born into such luxurious accommodations, I do not get anything.
My friend asks me ‘how much do you think the PM will make this year?’ and I reply, ‘how long’s a piece of string?’
Now, I ain’t asking you to confess all your secrets, but if allowed, which ones could you tell?
Would you reassure me this country is stable, and that we aren’t bound for Hell?
Would you reassure me that you are the one political leader this country truly needs?
Would you truly lay down your life for her? Would you sweat? Would you cry? Would you bleed
until there was nothing else you could honestly do to make this country any more beautiful?
Are you planning for a good many changes ahead for Australia, or are you planning for something really dreadful?
Would you reassure me that everything you have orchestrated is going according to plan?
Would you say to me ‘Derek, I am this country’s only hope. If I cannot do this, I assure you, nobody else can.’
Moreover, what about same sex marriage, or is this a topic for another day?
Would you be more open on the subject if your partner’s daughter were gay?
Do you not believe people should be given the option to love whoever they wish?
Do you not believe lovers should seal their bond with a lovers kiss?
On another note, why is it that all asylum seekers appear to get more rights than what I or anyone else would ever receive?
Why is it they can do almost anything, but I’m not allowed to do what I want to achieve?
Why was the job I recently applied for given to somebody who only just arrived in this country, and who is new to this state?
Is this the new definition of ‘fair’, or am I to always be the Australian too late?
Why does it seem you do not care for people, such as myself, whose family has lived in this country for more than eight generations?
Why does it seem you care more for people who are not even legitimate Australian citizens?
You adjunctively help other countries who are in need, but if the shoe was on the other foot, would they ever help us in return?
I don’t think they ever would. In fact, if this country were on fire, I think they would rather watch us burn.
I realise in the past you have expressed how it is our cultural diversity that makes our country so great,
but did you ever believe that it could breed animosity, fear, paranoia, and even provide the people of this nation with reasons to hate?
There are so many people who cannot marry the ones they love because of the differences in cultural backgrounds.
It is moreover taxing that nobody listens when I complain, but the government drops everything the second an asylum seeker makes a sound.
Furthermore, why is it when Australians are called ‘racists’ you do not hit back and say ‘that’s an outrageous lie’?
If we are such racists, why do we have so many soldiers overseas fighting for peace and prosperity who are doomed to die?
If we are such racists, why does a loving husband with two young children go to stop a war that is not his fight?
Why does his wife, ten months later, if we are such racists, need to explain to her children that daddy won’t be coming home tonight?
If we are such racists, why do we send our heroes to fight beside our American brothers on the front lines?
Why are our brave men and women of the Australian forces dying overseas from bullets, shrapnel and land mines?
I ask you, how many terrorist attacks have been stopped on beloved Australian soil over the past five years?
If we are such racists, who are these extremists who wished to kill thousands of people and leave their families in tears?
Why do you persist the continuation of a war we obviously do not belong in?
Do you feel the deaths of our men and women are on your head? Do you feel the blood of the armed forces running across your skin?
Why do you follow the American President and almost everything he chooses to do?
I never did realise we were the fifty first state of America; instead, I believed our Prime Minister was you.
Do you ask God for His forgiveness, for His solace, for His love before you go to sleep?
Any promises you make in regards to the questions I have asked of you will you forever and always keep?
Honestly, if you could guarantee our future and promise that our lives, you could protect,
you are the one politician, Madam Australian Prime Minister, I would only too gladly reelect.
On another note, what about the growing problems concerning the emergency services?
Can you assure me you could do something about reducing the time it takes for the arrival of ambulances?
What about the underpaid workers and the lacking number of staff maintaining our hospitals?
In regards to this question, before you fathom an appropriate response, do you really have a good rebuttal?
And what about the underperformances of students and teachers at our local schools?
Should students not sparkle with intellect within the classroom like radiant jewels?
In your plans for the future of our country, do any of them concern education?
If the children are our future I feel terrible for the next generation,
who will be unable to read, unable to write and unable to perform basic arithmetic.
Is it just me, or is stupidity becoming a nationwide pandemic?
Do you have a cure? Do you have a plan? Or do you plan to simply watch the problem escalate and grow?
If you want Australians to vote for you I believe you need to let them know
that you care for their concerns, for their children and for the future of this great country.
However, this Q&A of ours, it could never actually happen in reality.
I hope you are not Prime Minister for the power, but the responsibility.
Perhaps there might come a day when you could take the time to answer a question or two for me.
The opinion I have of this country’s government moreover has been jaded and I don’t think it’s that good.
If I’m not the only one believing this, then change is mandatory, and if you can do so, I believe you should.
Until then however I shall wish you luck because I believe you are going to need it in the future.
Disappointment is a terribly ugly disease and I hope you will someday become our one necessary cure.