30/12/2019

30/12/2019

Horror, catastrophic 

Climate change was talked about 

Reality bites here, today

Climate change is here to stay

No going back, no way out

It’s Hell on earth in Australia 

And still they fight

With Bravery and Courage,

Tenacity, Determination 

In apocalyptic conditions 

Temperatures rising, 

Fires Raging winds ,

Humble heroes

Putting their lives on the firelines

Pushing themselves to their limits

And more despite all

They can’t give up for they know

They’re are our last defence!

Lucette C. Bailliet 

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Beer o’clock

Lovely day today,

No wind, cool temperature,

Perfect weather,

Time for a beer o’clock

Got two beer glasses,

Two beer bottles,

A bottle opener, 

And got to the verandah,

Opened the bottles,

Poured the beers,

Not too much head,

Sat down in the rocking chair,

Enjoyed the first sip, He came, 

Sat down in his turn

Had a sip,

Jumped up from the rocking chair,

Swore, yep, that’s the kind of man he is,

Turned and showed me the back of his pants

All wet through, After the rain

The chair cushion had not dried up

That beer was way too cool for him!

Lucette C. Bailliet

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Sunset 

Not a ripple troubles the water

Nor a breath of air  disturbs it

The world is in stasis

Posed between day and night

In perfect equilibrium .

Enjoy this  peaceful instant

Soon the balance will be lost

And night will have overcome .

Lucette C. Bailliet 

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He was so keen to come

Pester us he did.

Five days in the city

When he saw the opened suitcase 

He crept inside thus made a statement 

“Take me home, lady,

Where the grass is green 

And the air is fresh,

Where I am free to wander,

And no bullies jump on me,

Take me home lady, 

I’ve seen the town

And I love the country!”

So we did, he’s a happy Chappy 

Playing balls and running after Roos

For there’s nothing ever

As good As “ home, sweet home”.

Lucette C. Bailliet 

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The persistence of the melting candle

Persistence of the melting candle

I got myself my own Dali piece

A climate change melted candle

Dali can keep his melted time pieces

In the persistence of memory

If such time exists it escapes us

Surrounding, bathing us, drowning us

It even morphs inert objects

The humble candle 

Melting not by the heat of its own 

But by the heat of a hot summer

In an iron corrugated shed

Kept on a shelf in the shade

Slowly melting of the shape

Collapsing on itself

Losing its upright standing

To a lazy laying one

Spreading crawling along the shelf

Pulling itself languorously to the lower level

Time, heat, time and heat,

Repeat endlessly as long as the Aussie summer

Speed is not of the essence

Consistency is, more heat, more time, 

Given these the candle will have moved

All the way down the bookshelf!

Lucette C.  Bailliet 

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A lady’s dream

A lady’s dream

When she told me : “ once I reach fifty,

I divorce both my husband and my son,

I move to a lifestyle village”.

There were so many arguments 

I could have come up

A dismal reply : “ you’ll get bored”

Was all I would allow myself

To answer her.

Turns out that ten years

Is an optimistic span

For someone morbidly obese

Who can barely waddle 

To the bathroom in the mornings!

Harsh, sure, no doubt about it

But her son’s probability to become 

An orphan in the next few years is a high one.

A lifestyle village would offer amongst others:

golf, tennis, swimming activities 

Which one would she be able to participate in?

Surely the question is not an hypothetical one.

Lady, if I may say so,

Act now and you may make it.

Dream of a leisurely future

And it will be but a dream.

Lucette C. Bailliet 

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50 F.... St

50 F.... st

From the roof terrasse 

Across Milsons Point bay

The deep blue waters shimmer 

Yachts bobbing up and down

In the tide’s current trying to escape

Seen trough the  wrought iron of the balustrade

Shaded by the high angophora branches

Sipping a tequila sunrise

Why, I wonder, would anyone

Wish to travel overseas

When A Brett Whitley spreads itself

In front of my very eyes 

Enjoying a quiet afternoon 

Such a serene vista

Opens to your sight

 Drop your worries

From the troublesome world below

Golden stolen moment.

Lucette C. Bailliet 

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Swinging insomnia

Ringeling, ringeling 

Bells are ringing

Midnight is alight 

My mind is bright

The cat is inside

It’s cold outside

Ringeling, ringeling 

Bells are ringing

Eyes won’t shut

Mind is aflame 

No one around  

For the harvest moon 

Hunts shadows

Ringeling, ringeling 

Bells are ringing

Her silver sleigh 

Runs through the clouds

Head tosses over the pillows 

Trying to follow her course 

Ringeling, ringeling 

Bells are ringing

One is never alone

When sleep escapes

The insomniac heavenly disk

Keeps you company 

To track it back!

Lucette C. Bailliet 

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A happy clapping Chappy

How god is good

For this happy clapping Chappy

When his salary is limited

To a meagre half a mil

He can claim thrice this amount

In expenses

How happy is this happy clapping Chappy

Singing god’s glory

Being indebted to fill his deep pockets

How insatiable is this happy clapping Chappy

Let’s all be grateful for god’s infinite bounty!

Lucette C. Bailliet

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If you wish to know

Running late

It got worse

Fog waiting for us

Down the track

Ambushed us 

Made it to town

At the intersection

A double semi ran down

Couldn’t go forward 

Backward or side ways

It was stuck bang in the middle

Across the two lanes

Rush hour traffic stopped

Then it got worse

Tooth had to be extracted 

An hour later and three stitches

I’ll skip on the details 

Told it was going to be sore

No surprises there

It was already despite analgesics 

Ordered to go to bed

Swallow four painkillers 

Every four hours

For two weeks

Sure added to the soreness

So don’t ask how was my day!

Lucette C. Bailliet

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Pizza, slice of life

Pizza, it’s a slice of life

Take the hot Aussie girl

She’ll go for hot and spicy

Hot pepperoni every time

For the  rough tradie

Rolling muscles as he works

It’s a meaty one and a VB

For the smiley English rose

With soft melting accent

The cheesy mozzarella is a must

For the beach comber

Returning empty handed

The marinara will be restorative 

Returning from holidays

Ask for a prolongation 

With a pineapple one and a mai tai.

So the humble pizza fits all

Walks of life and aspirations 

Thus Do not be surprised

By its appeal for its real!

Lucette C Bailliet 

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Don’t have to worry about sentences

I don’t have to worry about sentences

I write poetry

It doesn’t have to make sense

It’s not a question of Rhyming or not

As long at it has rythme 

Poetry is freedom

Like life it happens

Feelings and emotions 

It’s what it is about

Words and nuances

Juxtapositions, allitérations 

Not sentences

With their subjects, verbs and objects

Useful for recipes but useless for poetry

I write poetry 

I don’t have to worry about sentences!

Lucette C. Bailliet 

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Remember me

On the last day

She brought a bouquet

Last roses from her garden

Before early winter

Their perfume was subdued

When asked for their name

“Remember me” was the answer

How could I not remember her?

She left our shores to travel

But her kindness stayed with us

A warming feel delicate as the aroma

Of her winter roses.

Have a good trip, Come back soon .

Lucette C. Bailliet 

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Rabid nationalism

1066, Hastings

The Normans took hold

Gone were the wooden forts

Up went went the stone fortresses

From Sherwood to Snowdonia

The masters were there to stay

And shackle the island 

To the continent of Europe 

Almost a millenium later

Brexit tries to break that yoke

And send Albion adrift 

Into the mystical mists of Avalon

In a rabid separatist rush

With no deal, no return

Giving the old Normans a turn

In their stony mausoleums 

Will the new order concrete jungle

Spread thickly on the landscape

Last as long as its predecessor vestiges 

Or simply  crumble within a decade or few?

Wait and see might be the byword to go.

Lucette C. Bailliet 

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Tree change

Tree change! 

Ah, the dreams, the lifestyle 

Seeping Shiraz or sémillon

On a sunny deck looking over the vineyards

Exploring the gate farm trails

Picking up fresh produce

Having an entertaining yarn

With a leisurely gentleman farmer

That’s a life, that’s a lie

It’s a constant battle

Between being overwrought  by drought

Or overwhelmed by floods

Not to talk about roaring bushfires

Planting, hoping for a crop

To see it destroyed by a swarm of locusts

Or an infestation of mice Is also a possibility 

To have a tree change better check

Your physical, mental and financial healths

For there is no insurance

That you’ll survive the next emergency 

For such is the perpetual state 

Of instability on the land. 

So much for the galahs

Perching on the tree

Screeching to the sunset

While sipping a sundowner.

Lucette C. Bailliet 

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Ah ce que c’ est beau

De bien vieillir

Le visage révèle 

Les rides du fou rire

Dissimulé tout au long des ans

Le grand sourire qui détend 

Les mâchoires crispées d’angoisse

Et les lèvres inertes du Botox

Sur les dents émaillées du dentier

Et la barbe, ah la barbe

Tous les poils ont migré 

Du haut de la tête 

Au bas du menton

Laissant une piste d’atterrissage 

Pour les mouches estivales

Ah ce que c’ est beau

De bien vieillir!

Lucette C. Bailliet 

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