Jean Bohuslav

bye-bye, my kitchen’s attention seeking
window’s view
cheerio my blue mountains, curtains to
sunrise
au revoir my fireplace, warming hearts
and body parts on queue
adios passage, putting green for
my well-earned prize

keep it together, hot water pipes in
your concrete slab
take it easy, my proud mover king-
cockerel weather-vane
let bygones be bygones, colourful
stickers in my lav
forget me not, my song drowned shower
walls, reverberating drain

peace be to you, my ridiculing calls
from cocky’s cage
i leave my valley’s slopes, gumboots
not needed anymore
good riddance to those ignoring my
padlocked gate, inciting age
farewell my pretty boy, another
rabbit killed, the dog next door

You did me well my virgin soil with
outdoor pool
i’ll remember my black sheep chasing
billy carts
fish ponds, waterfowl, pussy cats on
every stool
blossoms, shrubs, flowers along each
path

memories, moments when we flew
like larks

he wandered lonely by day
danced in skins by night
restrained himself with silk handcuffs
pleading not guilty in the docks

you were the last to see her they said
we were one that night
i would not kill myself
seeming lucid he stood tall

with scratched face
eyes running the room
hands twitching
he smiled inappropriately
the jury sat wide-eyed
his wife teary

he started to sing
she sobbed
my derrick would never sing
he hasn’t been himself since
returning from war
his twin brother had the voice
same regiment but didn’t make it back
he was the strange one

an old lady was seen sitting on a solitary chair in the middle of a large
room continuously calling h e l p

six months later another elderly woman at a different hospital sits on a chair
ringing an old fashioned brass bell for assistance

she is just out of ICU
she has no dressing gown
she is cold
she can’t get up

she calls out for assistance
she listens to the group of nurses talking and laughing outside her door
for twenty minutes
the person who gave her the bell walks past several times without looking sideways
she identifies with the other old lady’s plight

her catheter is removed that day
something is not right
she buzzes the nurse four times during the night
two nurses help
one a male
extremely agitated
he tells her not to use the toilet until he is out of the room

she wishes they did not send a male
especially one who finds toiletries offensive
she feels guilty to be calling so many times

back in the quiet of her room
she sobs
wishing her husband would come to take her
from this place

on the phone next morning she remarks
if I had to go through what I have again
i would rather kill myself

a nurse overhears the comment
a procession of cheery attendees present that day as never before
making her and her visiting husband laugh out loud

later she hears an elderly male desperately calling
will someone please come to help my wife?
she wants me to take her home

christmas
a celebration of life
with
love
kindness
compassion
and gratitude…
all reflections of growth

a reminder
to be a better you
a gift to the universe
of consciousness and union…
attributes of awareness

any event or story which enriches
a path to peace
is an excellent way to celebrate life…
becoming everyday endeavours

we cannot change others
but by improving ourselves
setting better examples…
the world becomes a better place

so merry christmas
and a rich happy new year

days have been so hot fish are floating belly up
my abdomen is swollen
bigger than mother’s was
when i was five years old we shared a bath together
“i never want a tummy like hers,” i thought
it was the size of the baby elephant’s
in my golden book

be careful of what you don’t want

the first thing he said after offering me medication was
‘it makes you fat’
i started to think he was a bit of a cowboy
he could have said put on weight like most doctors would
the many other side-effects made me say
‘why would i take it?’

i agreed with the prescriptions
and the small operations
but the words – ‘you will? you will?’ rang strange
i felt in a bit of a whirl
not the kind when a girl’s on her first date
but the type that eats the core out of your brain
to spit it back in your face

i had given him bullets for his gun
causing rise to one fat belly
no need for floaties

float I will
but not like those fish
not for a while
anyway

fibro cement shack
broken concrete
chipped linoleum
gifted furniture
except the bed
they bought that

have you seen the stone wash troughs on the back siding
the manual wringer
her bed’s blankets covered with morning dew
their only toilet the other side of the tennis courts
have you seen where she lives

he heats his clothes in the combustion oven
the cockatoo’s perch next to it
a day old lamb boxed in front
and possum near the hearth

on evenings in front of the fire
the bird pokes his head out of the neck of her jumper
he picked most of his feathers out
shredded a telephone book
(but stopped pecking the cracked linoleum)
it crosses a playground visiting school each day
not knowing weekends

they mostly live off rabbits
shot late afternoons
after school’s out
and field mushrooms

he, ate the pet rooster
raised week old in the menageries’ rabbit warren
school kids clambering to swap jam sandwiches
for a bite

the distant towns ran out of mouse traps
their car skidded off road on locusts or frogs
i’m not sure which
and baby red back spiders escaped in the classroom
which housed the school’s ten children

she seems happy

coulrophobians fear clowns
i know a dog terrified of scare-crows
he might also be coulrophobic

plants apparently respond to sound
some may wilt at the reverberation
of the word C-L-O-W-N
depending on the tone of course

nurseries might need warning signs
in case children call out in fear
there’s a clown

could that mean they cause delight
and disaster
like the one who made out
on his bosses desk
with the loudspeaker turned up
or the clown in the hot rod who cut us off

what about political clowns
who care more about keeping their jobs
than running the country

weirdly dressed people with fluro hair
piercings and tats
have been mistaken as part of a circus
is it only their intention that seals the deal

don’t get me wrong
i find these trendies interesting
some of us need to brush up on dress codes
for our own good

perhaps we could then goof around
without being called bozo

would this mean some outfits actually
encourage laughter or just draw a crowd

would wearing placards help
so that we don’t laugh at foolish mistakes
made by ordinary people

a clown carriage on trains may be useful
there’d be titillation around the stations
without fear of retribution

would all this fan-fare be too much for the serious
would their buttons be pressed to the limit with
misunderstandings and too much tomfoolery

encouraged whispers of
we’re only clowning
could be quite soothing
perhaps a homeopathic remedy for some