WEEKLY ROMANTIC POEM FOR Tuesday, 21 November 2000 last week's romantic poem of the week HOME

The Magic Mansion

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Leigh Neuage (July 6 1983 - August 16 2003) --

The Magic Mansion  Latest story >>>The Magic Mansion (http://neuage.org/MM/ Maggie and Mabel's Magic Mansion will take them wherever they wish to go. The house used for this story is a model made by my father-in-law after visiting our house in Round Lake, New York and upon return to Australia he built this model based on his memory of our house. The page for this house is at http://neuage.org/house/ As of October 2015 there are three chapters and an introduction to these adventures.

I enjoy

visiting exotic places

on your body

and sending postcards

to myself


"wish you were here"

 (c) Terrell Neuage (Adsit pre-August-1981) ~ Adelaide South Australia 1996




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1.        I threw away my umbrella

2.        As far as the song we sing

3.        Where my kisses meet my dreams

4.        Pick a dream and stay awake in it

5.        Tree - the story

I was staying at a camping ground a

few moments out of Hilo

when first I saw her running toward


Then in kisses and embraces she

enveloped me

She had some white slip thing on that


in the '60s wore

and of course bells, beads and scent of sandalwood and

patchouli oil.

Then she kissed my feet and said she had waited

all her life for me.

I couldn't wait another moment to have her

and did in a cloud of frankincense and myrrh.

She said I was surrounded in white light

as she lit up some Maui-wowie and took more psilocybin

She even dubbed me Saint Terrell

and for decades later she addressed me that way...

Now the world seems so different from

those magical days in Hawaii 25 years ago

Now no one calls me Saint Terrell:

Not me kids

me friends

tax office


nor the ex-thingie (who writes me 'dear shithead')

Chialeah visited me in New Orleans and Los Angles

in the '70s and rambled on about other lives

realms, bodies (the one she had now was enough for me),


It was all peu de chose to me

Her body and responses throughout the nights-days-weeks...

was enough for every life, dimension, body...

She wanted my soul

I just wanted more of her body (the physical one she had with

her then)

an equal trade in any man's book (eternity for a good fuck).

I have no idea where in the world she is

if at all she is on this planet

or whether in fact she now has my soul

(I've sold, traded and given it away so often ~ whom ever ends

up with it is a loser for sure)

Maybe her daughters whose father(s)

could have been any number of us saints

are here still (as my dreams reveal)

But every once in awhile

when the day gets to me just a bit too much

I remember her


'Saint Terrell'

and my satisfied body and I escape smiling

one more time.

(c) Saint Terrell Neuage (Adsit - alias Brother Arthur) Victor Harbor South Australia 1993.

As far as I could imagine

was never far enough

to place me here.

I was prospecting in a small town up north

 (Papunyu in the Northern Territory)

The circus had left a small tent behind.

I peeked inside, looking for adventure.

There was a gypsy sitting naked in front

of a crystal ball she was fondling.

She had my portrait tattooed on her breasts...

it was impossible not to notice - even for a man.

She said my future was mapped in my hands

would I put them on my portraits

to know.

I remembered her from some distant shore

(when we were children it was her dolls

I had sacrificed to Aphrodite

during mass and she never forgave)

I didn't want my future told

I knew where all the doors were


As I left the tent

I felt Chiron's hot laughter behind me

and turned just in time to watch the tent

disappear into the screaming mist

Before long I did forget it all

until tonight when my concupiscent concubines

came home and said a gypsy was looking for me

to tell my future

she was no longer smiling.

Now I know it is my end because I sacrificed

to the wrong god so long ago

like all men do to bring about their end

Storiette #7 4-17-94 Victor Harbor SA

That rusted moment

too long in the rain

No shelter could be found to save it for now

When she said good-bye

I thought she was just going

to the afternoon's feminist rally

I even baked you some tofu cookies

('sorry the bottoms were burnt')

and ironed your culottes

('excuse the hole dear, I'm just a man')

But there was baseball on the television all that day - and football to follow

Of course no real man would join them

The beer was cold, the guys were over

the ladies were paid for...

How was I to know that their rally

was opposed to men taking a bite of life?

And that she would never return

Now I think of her and the '60s

the rallies, concerts, beliefs, rebellions

and our explosive experimental youth.

And those rusted moments

left too long out in the rain.

4-15-94 Victor Harbor SA

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these and 700 other poems/songs/chants/lies/stories/fantasies etc. are in the shortened 700 thingie+ addition of THOUGHTS IN PATTERN copyrighted 1994 Terrell (writings prior to becoming the respected academic socially corrected role model that I currently am acting out as Terrell Neuage here in Adelaide - The City of Churches)

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Clifton Park new York cat house in the 1950s terrell neuage (terry adsit ~ then) Joyce, robert (1943-1993), mum (1905 - 1992)










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Leigh Neuage (July 6 1983 - August 16 2003)


previous story  ª next story ª story index ª romantic poem of the week  ª Tree ª neuageVIEWª poems collection 1 ª poems collection 2ª poems collection 3 ª PHOTOS ~ terrelll ~ Picture Poem Sampler- order Picture Poems 8x10 matt framed individually made to order $15 each includes posting from terrellneuage@yahoo.com



NEW SITE = JULY 2014 - http://neuage.us/2014/July/ Myanmar 2014

NEW SITE = JULY 2014 - http://neuage.us/2014/July/ - Today working on picture poem links starting around "better" (19 September 2014). Picture poems are the digital format of work I did as a street artist in New Orleans in the 1970s, as well as New York City, Honolulu, San Francisco and Adelaide South Australia. .

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