The Bunya Woods
If I could live three lives
And love three pretty wives
For let’s say, a century or two
D’you know what?
I’d trade them all
For three moonlit nights
On the Bunya mountains
With you, my dream
On the Bunya mountains
With you
And if I could win three wishes
With a lucky roll of dice
I’d spend them good
In that Bunya wood
I’d kiss you once
Twice
And thrice, my dream
Once, twice
And thrice
And if I had just three words
Left to talk
Before my talking was all through
I’d waste them not
On poems or prayers
I’d simply say
I love you, my dream
I’d tell you that
I love you
These majestic mountains, home to the Bunya Pine tree, are situated about 200 kilometers northwest of Brisbane, Queensland. I wrote the little poem following three moonlit nights camping out there with my wife. We never saw another soul, and it felt like we were all alone in the world.
My World by Joe Lynch 2014 ©
We’re a picky lot, on that little dot
Some pick winners, some do not
Some pick fights with the other fellow
My love picks nasturtiums
And leaves them on my pillow
Some sing praises to their Gods
Some sing dirges to their dead
Some, battlesongs to marching boots
And fill the sky with lead
My love dozes in my arms
Humming some old rhyme
About old dogs and children
And watermelon wine
Some awake to the call for prayer
Plant bombs inside their vests
I awake to the kookaburra,
Plant a kiss on my true love’s breast
Some seek jewels, jade and jasper
And strip Earthmother bare
I find treasure in my love’s eyes
And silver in her hair
Some wear Gucci and Obsession
Doir, Chanel, Cologne
My love smells of gardening
And sweet, sweet, subtle Pheromone
Roisin Dubh By Joe Lynch 2014 ©
Her Spirit walks with me on the turfy moors
And where the black, shell-encrusted rocks
Endure the ceaseless spray
Enchanted, I wander all the day
Oh! You fierce and bold Atlantic
You call me like an over-confident lover
Beckons a smitten slave
Who cannot but obey
You call the rhythm and my heart thunders in time
While you’re rugged arms entwine
My dreaming place
And every dream within it.
And all the while she walks with me
She walks with me in spirit
I watched the wide-eyed gannet hover on the wing, and sing
An eerie unrequited love song
Mostly song with just a hint of cry, and I
Captivated by his song
In my spirit, sang along
But you, my all-talk Atlantic friend
This eve you’re not so bold
Now the sinking Sun has kissed your brow
Your rage has turned to harmony
As your Silver turns to Gold
And her spirit found my sleeping breast
On a turf reek near Kilkee
With a billion other fiery worlds
Blazing down on me
And the Mass-rocks and the moss
And the ruins and the purple heather
All shared a truth I needed then
“Embrace the gift my wounded friend
Cause nothing lasts forever”
And I was King of the world that night
With nature for a palace
Rich green moss for a sleeping gown
And the fairies gave me for a crownThe Aurora borealis
In sleep I heard her sweetly sing
To the delicate beat of a butterfly wing.
The City of New Orleans – by Joe Lynch ©2015
The reckless moon has strewn his treasure
Out across the Mississippi
Dream-a-fying the Creole Queen
Paddle-wheeling sweet to the bluesy brass beat
Of Steamboat Willy and Maybelline
Wooing the lovers,
The dreamers,
The two drink screamers
The Ghosts of Louis and Ella sailing in our dreams
On a silvery Mississippi by the City of New Orleans
And the devil danced so sweet on Bourbon St
Soft-shoe Jose, in gold la-mae
Delicate fleet little wings to his feet
Last night’s tip jar still misting his veins,
Powering his car
Misty, my eyes are too
As he danced my wild unreachable dreams
On the corner of Bourbon and Voodoo
On a steamy dreamy midnight
In the city of New Orleans
And the moonlight paves a pathway on the silver singing river
A shimmering rue for the angels of the Bayou
Healing old scars, only love mends
Oh! the deep, deep scars
Soothed wound by wound by the Creole/Cajun seraphims
Bridging the years, springing sweet tears
For the old world, and the new
On the streetcars,
In the bars
The sinners, saints and superstars
Cannot, but, be in love in the City of New Orleans
Hallelujah! Revelations 13, Ya‘all
Jesus preached on Frenchmen St, on a cheep and loud PA
While Chico, sleeps in a doorway
And gave his crawfish pie
To a hungrier hombre from the streets
I asked why?
He said, “I like to share”
He said, everyone’s a giver here
The preaching Jesus and the dancing devil too
“We all give Señor, by different means”
On the streets of New Orleans”
As I leave you New Orleans, I know you won’t leave me
You’ll abide all time in that smoky old jazz joint of my mind.
Her nimble black fingers tease the yellowed ivory keys
Singing my pain
Reaching my lonely boy
Setting him free again
She said it ain’t my fault you should cry, white boy
You come to hear the blues!
You come to hear the blues! You come the right place, Monsieur
You get to findin what-it-all means
Right here in New Orleans
In a dim-lit, bluesy old jazz joint,
Round about midnight,
In the City of New Orleans.