Big Other

My television wouldn't work.
I went and bought Big Other.
I watched the triumph of The Crows,
In splendid, vivid colour.

I watched a hired DVD:
Matt Dillon in his prime.
I then put on 'The West Wing':
Sound, no picture showed this time.

I take it all back to the shop
Where quite soon we can take succour:
It's my player on the blink;
Big Other simply much too big
For my old mother......

poem by Douglas Scotney
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B: VI: Luxe, Calme et Volupte

..Child sister brother lover,
Willing true their dreams,
Bought two one-way tickets to
_____________________________

All Your Dreams Come True

in

WHATEVER-YOU-WOULD-DO
________________________ _____

Delight in one behaviour,
Go another, too.
One more, make it four.
_____________________________

WHATEVER-YOU-WOULD-DO

The Place To Love

[...] Read more

poem by Douglas Scotney
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That's the Case (For Gail)

...those horrible white sky days of Adelaide,
I hate them for their glare.
They never let the fumes take flight;
Remind me of an office where
The only light's fluorescent white.

Gail Jones, she comes, and sees, she says,
Such clouds as semen in the sky.
If that's the case, then, office workers,
Your light's the work of countless jerkers.
My hatred's gone a bit awry.

Note: Australian author, Gail Jones.

poem by Douglas Scotney
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Liz's Question

You ask me why
I like the guy
Whose faith it is
That every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.

You ask I s'pose
The reason why
I do one thing
and not another.

I could tell you,
''Tain't your business.'
I could take a breath of air and sigh,
'I don't know. I've no idea, your Lizness.'

I could fabricate a lie,
My ignorance to cover.
Let you know my little lie.
Meditate upon my lie.

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poem by Douglas Scotney
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The End of 'Ulysses'-a triple-barrelled limerick

'Ulysses' is a buck of a ride
Wherever you get on inside.
The end is no canter
Molly's a ranter
Stopping she cannot abide.

She rants a long distance
To Gibraltar for instance.
She's trained hard for the meet.
You can't begrudge her her feat.
But then she pulls down her pants.

And rants, on the potty no less,
Raves about Poldy's largess,
Lists bucks she's had in the sack,
Likes a Bloom tongue in her crack.
We've had a buck of a ride by her 'Yes'.

poem by Douglas Scotney
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Wisdom and Fact

Propaganda painter
No Saint was S T Gill

Knowing that in England
Wisdom was not bliss
Wise man down in Adelaide
Thought he could alter this.

He packed his pics
With doctored bliss
That lured folks to Australia.
His bliss they found there lacking.
With wisdom still in tact
They sent the painter packing-
To goldfields, Melbourne, Sydney-this
Wise con-man died in failure:
Wiser knowing though for sure
That wisdom can't be bliss
When wisdom's faced with fact.

poem by Douglas Scotney
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Doug's Peach

The Theory of Non-Exclusivity states that:
Always right exists in left
And likewise left in right.

I went outside and picked a peach,
the episcopalian of the four.

Parts were ripe and parts were wrong-
if 'wrong' is 'not as ripe'.
And if 'wrong' is 'not as ripe',
then 'ripe' is 'right' for sure.

I ate some right, then ate the wrong,
then ate what right was left:
thus proving, sure as Al's my brother,
that neither right nor left is
exclusive of the other.

poem by Douglas Scotney
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Cinnamon + = plus

Since Xmas time it seemed I'd seen
The + on hot cross bun,
But hadn't bought a one.
I thought I wouldn't bother,
But brought back two on Maundy Day,
Ate one, left out the other.

I now can tell the sight of cross
Is nothing to the smell:
For breeding thought of body dead
+ dread sweet smell of hell.

And you who've had the scent around
Since bun first hit the shelf?
You who notice hell no more?
Your hell will hit next Tuesday when
There's bun no more in store.

poem by Douglas Scotney
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Satire II: En Excedent 'Ca Va' (Un Bout de Semiologie) 'Fare Fair' Excess (A Semiological Dig)

'Demandez vous de moi, 'Ca va? '? ' 'Ask of me, 'Fare fair? '? '
'Ca va? ...Ca va? ' 'Fare fair? ...Fare fair? '
'Ca va....Ca va? ' 'Fare fair....Fare fair? '
'Tout va.' 'All fair.'
'Beaucoup trop 'Ca va'.' 'Much too much 'Fare fair'.'
'Un 'Tout va'.' 'One 'All fair'.'
'O! la! la! le temps! ' 'O! la! la! the time! '
'Helas! un n'est pas tout va! ' 'Alas! One is not all fair! '
'Adieu! Mon Dieu! ' 'Good bye! My God! '
'Il est, et est Temps.' 'He is, and is Time.'

poem by Douglas Scotney
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Les Fleurs des Mots: Un Morceau du Pidgin

Mon frere, ma soeur et moi
a l'exterieure
de la bibliotheque
de l'universite
de Paris.
Sculptures,
en gres,
du homme de renom.
Pocketable oeuvres
(poche doovers) .
Nous n'etonnions pas
quand nous were searched at la porte.
Mon homme asked, 'You were in court before? '
(Je hadn't done any courtroom francais,
let alone past tense.
Il parlais anglais.)
Je said, 'Not en France.'
Nous left, et soon noticed
il following us.
Je said,

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poem by Douglas Scotney
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