im sitting here
im not sitting there....
the doodles are scribbling n drawing away
its meaningless for a father to say
his daughters are beautiful....
oh but my daughters are beautiful
oh vishnu, oh jesus
what an unexpected honour and treasure
to protect and guide these lovely female beings
money could not buy them
success could never replace them
is there ever a blinder man
than a father who loves his daughter?
well i been lucky in that dept, at least
5 lovely ninnies of my own to father
oh man if youre a father...?!
talk about responsibility......
i shouldnt talk.......
i am not the model of parental perfection...
im so relieved my kids arent scared of me..
like in the olden days (circa mary poppins)
when the kids were trotted out to their distant father
he inspects them briefly
the mother cues the hestitant kids what to say
the father is aloof, slightly impatient all the time
seems like a father has 2 basic options
stern distant patriach
dad, the human being
i guess my dad was the 2nd
in a time when there were plenty o the 1st type
my dad was a joker
he didnt wanna scare me
i'm glad the twills n doodles see me in a similar light
it would be nice to snap yer fingers
and get a little yessir, nossir
but how likely is that
unless im doing my block
but not just doing
well its a coldish rainyish morning here
marconi union playing in the corner
sculptures by the sea is on in november
it is as it suggests
all round the clifftop
framed against the blue pacific ocean
(today gun metal grey)
all kindsa "sculptures"
3 D art at any rate
when everyone makes an appearance
we'll have a walk up to the cliffs n see
this years sculptures by the sea
i dont mind if it rains
i just hope the sun dont come out
and it gets all steamy....
a lovely soft morning actually
oh so quiet here in this little street
its rained overnight
and its like some artist
has gone round and airbrushed all the green things
elephants ears n chinese shrubs jostle with weeds
the concrete cracks n weeds push through
ants n lizards tentative in the cool dawn
passionfruit tree w/ pink flowers
cars slumber in the street
a strange bird that lives only on nectar calls mounfully
a persian cat with bright yellow eyes looks on
n licks its lips
all the lovely trees bounce n move in the gentle wind
pigeons black against a white sky
while i type this doggerel
eve starr hangs over me
and now aurora
trying to interrupt me
im not trying to interrupt you says aurora
but carries on leaning on my shoulder
eve fiddles restlessly beside me
aurora reading over my shoulder as i write these words
and reading it all out aloud
in a stop start 7 year old way
i wonder if i type aurora is a gooseball...
yep she said it!
can you believe that i actually gotta
run the gauntlet
in this fashion
while im trying to work
2 little girls
who know nothing about blogging
or my planet-wide audience
subtley but surely
strong-arming me in their own way
trying to deter me from my porpoise