"bloody hell" screamed the cute cuddly koala as it killed then ate the repugnant woke vegetarian hugging its gum tree

WEEKLY ROMANTIC POEM JUNE 3-10, 1997

It was the dream again - I can never sleep

alone again with the dreams I have in my sleep

The person I am is free to love life away

While in my waking times the who I am

could not have the same genetic code

as my other self

Last night was extra good

The lady in my dream said so too.

When I awoke she was still smiling then faded

as my eyes focused to some distant phase

of my being. I walked out into the kitchen

children somewhere on the periphery of my mist

ask if breakfast is ready.

I don't even know her name and she was so good.

Another one night stand another dream filler

come and gone. Every night it is a different lady

ladies of my night Women of my life

months to years I remember them from my dreams

but nothing similar ever happens in my day

Life can never give contentment when the night

is so fulfilling.

Last night she was an oriental.

She was my first oriental lover.

After we had made love she asked me not to leave

because if I did she would become danger's sister

but I did leave her and her fading smile

Now in the kitchen I try to recall how to make

a cup of coffee.

She had a perfume on I had never sensed before

Now the smell drifted through the kitchen

While I tried to make a cup of coffee.

Soldiers returning from the battle field

say they can smell death before it happens

could smell evanescent love as the sun rose

spread eagle across the morning.

I felt dazed again it had happened before

Usually I'd awaken during the night

trying to recall that other world

then try to figure out how to bring it

into the conscious.

Now it was well into morning

I stood still in the kitchen

My children yelling for breakfast

it was time to catch the school bus

Cartoons were menacing morning's fading breath

the dog whined for attention

I wanted to go back to the oriental lover

who said she'd be in danger if I left.

A refugee trapped in my dream world.

I managed to get milk out of the refrigerator

My children needed nourishment.

breasts which had faded with morning's shadows.

My nourishment had slipped away too,

my motherless children's had long ago.

I gave them milk and cereal saw them out the door

watched them catch the Port Elliot school bus

I yelled 'have a good day'.

Children's paraphernalia lay about like the end into carnival.

of every battle. And as I moved about collecting

pajamas, comics, lego and G.I. Joes

I quietly closed my eyes and slipped back

into my lover's arms.

Terrell Neuage 2-28-79

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 picture poems from many decades ago pre-post-noir Neuage
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About Dr. Terrell Neuage

Terrell Neuage, (dual citizen USA/Australia) is a South Australian/New York poet, writer, and digital artist known for his evocative poetry and extensive research on conversational analysis in on-line communciations (including communication in the AI era; from sharing information to making sense of it). His best-selling autobiographies;Leaving America (Before the After) & Leaving Australia (after) – exploring life as a hippie, brother in a California Cult (Holy Order of MANS) as Brother Terrell Adsit, Astrolger (40-years) to non-believer, and adventures in Australia, single parent, tofu manufacturer/street artist, China, the USA & fifty+ other ountries. From high school drop out, Shenendehowa Central School, Clifton Park, New York at age 16, back to school at age 44 (BA & Masters from Deakin University, Melbourne, Australia) to PhD from the University of South Australia at age 58 to knocking on your door at age 77.

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