Last Man Standing

My eldest is in China
On the way to the Li Jiang
She’s seen the Terracotta Warriors
In a place that called Xian.

My youngest, she’s in Sydney town
Her love in life is reading books
She has a sense of fantasy
And red curled Irish looks.

Me? I am in Pearl Beach
For others paradise
But I am on my own up here
And lead a damaged life.

I suffer from depression
And that’s very clear to see
For though the sun is shining high
It looks so dark to me.

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poem by David Keig
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A Shrine To Elvis

She asked me if I had the time
To see her lounge-room Elvis shrine
In her 30's – kinda cute
We drove to her place in my ute
The house was on an acre block
Fibro front porch parking lot
Her daughter – young and tartly bland
Was pregnant from a one night stand
Her son – now twenty - moved away
When the drugs consumed him and they say
He’d hit his mum a hundred times
For objecting to his cocaine lines
But Elvis’ shrine stood resolute
With pics of Elvis in gold suits
He is my hero she then said
While inviting me into her bed
He was a man that knew his way
I'd sleep with him most any day
But now he is in lame’d heaven
You must do this – so please pretend

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poem by David Keig
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Resurrection

Depression is my burden
I just want recovery
I want a resurrection
That’s what this Easter means to me.

But I don’t want pain or sorrow
Nor being nailed onto a cross
I’m numbed by medication
And the acuity I’ve lost.

Perhaps there’s good in all this bad?
Perhaps there’s sunshine at the end?
Perhaps I’m paying the full price
For not having been my friend?

Suicide keeps being mentioned
When psychiatrists I see
I would not do it! Not at all!
I don’t want a Calvary.

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poem by David Keig
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Sydney

My mind wandered on the hillsides
above those english fields
the smell of hay the prick of gorse
the meanings clear to me
the sun was never setting
twilight bestrode the day
and the feelings i was feeling
would never go away.

this was my blessed england
this is where i was born
this england now forgotten
while i live on fatal shores.

i stole a half a sixpence
i needed it for bread
then i was here transported
and am the walking dead.

i am now here in australia

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poem by David Keig
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The Dilatory Terrorist

'I want a curry in a hurry'
Said the man in the big car
'I think I’m going to Glasgow
Can you tell me is it far?
I forgot my AA route map
And brought the Koran instead
It’s a hard life being a terrorist
But I’ll be worshipped when I’m dead'
‘Ahah’ said the young waiter
‘Are you really one of them,
Who give their life up for the cause
Where will you strike and when? ’
With his nan and his samosas
He just smiled a knowing way
‘Ah ‘God is great and bountiful
Now I must be on my way’
‘But we have some tempting specials’
Said the young and waiting man
‘Well maybe I’ll be tempted’
And he ordered two and not just one

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poem by David Keig
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Twenty Thousand Miles

We came here to Australia
From a place that’s called Sudan
I‘ve got three beautiful children
And a badly damaged man
My youngest child is six years old
And doing oh so well at school
My eldest she is now fifteen
And she says I am a fool
My husband he is trying
To settle in down here
He was an ardent Muslim
Now he seems to like his beer
His English is not good you know
And I know that he does try
But it’s hard here in Australia
Without the Sudan sky
We do not know where we fit in
We’re not welcome on these shores
But back in earth burnt Africa
We could not take no more

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poem by David Keig
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The Whore Of Mensa (with apologies to Woody Allen)

I had a sudden passion
For philosophical debate
I'd talked often 'bout the football
But not dialectics with my mates
I often felt entrapped inside
Plato's famous cave
With shadows black upon the walls
My intellect enslaved
I craved for stimulation
My mind was going to waste
I Googled and found Bhuddism
But Kant and Hegel's more my taste
Then one day in Yellow Pages
Just browsing through 'cos i was bored
Something caught my interest
So i tried to find out more
There were educated women
Most with PhD's
You could engage with for an hour
And discuss philosophies

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poem by David Keig
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Disneyland Dad

Of course you can see them just most of any time
So take them out for breakfast - if the weather it is fine
But this weekend it's tricky - they're busy every day
And you see them each twice daily - that's all that i will say
For you pick them up, collect them each day from home to school
It may be only just ten minutes - and you know that there are rules
You can't ask too many questions - you know that they are tired
But they say that you annoy them and that you are a liar
You say that you do love them all the time so desperately
You're a fool! You are a madman! They far more do love me!
More time with them - you say to me - is what you really need
To be a real father - now do please these words heed
They do not want to be with you despite the things i say
Oh yes - i had forgotten that we are going away
Not for too long - a mere five weeks
When we come back we're off straightway to the beach
So i guess that you won't see them much until their next term starts
Now don't call them too often and aim to break their hearts
You've ruined my life! You've ruined my life! And now you're ruining their's!
You would keep out of their way if you did really care

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poem by David Keig
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A Singular Man

He stood on the edge of Beachy Head
But this was not the sunshine day he had expected
It was windswept and rain threatened
He had wanted to smile
‘This is not the way’ he thought
Later in his room he began to question his resolve
So, slowly very slowly, he slit his wrists
The staff found him
At the hospital he felt happy and contented
He was still there
He was alive
The closeness of death’s acquaintance giddied him
It was then he realised that he had visited Beach Head wholly unprepared
He must not escape
He must put things in order
He estimated his life’s savings
He calculated his debt – largely credit cards
He decided to rid himself of all those clothes that we all keep and never wear
He destroyed his address book.
Then he went out for a meal

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poem by David Keig
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For Shrill The Piper Plays His Tune

When thoughts are idle wanderings
Words tumbled round and round
When feelings they turn inwardly
Still I hear the piper's sound.

When happiness is broken
And the Kings and Queens are gone
The piper's tune keeps playing
And I hear his victory song.

For even when awoken
From the sleepiness of time
There's a distant music playing
Heard clear within my mind

For shrill the piper plays his tune
That beckons every day
And when his tune is full played out
He carries us away.

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poem by David Keig
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