Cats and Dogs
The cat, she plays with her prey,
With pleasure she juggles.
In the broad of the day,
She humours the struggles.
The dog buries his catch -
Until the meat is green and blue.
He marks it as his,
And rolls in it too.
The taste of blood awakens the killer.
Intoxicated by the raw squirm of flesh,
The crime of most evil is ever shriller.
How insane is his cause, is ever fresh.
There is a killer on the loose
He will never call a truce.
He is as bent as a wheel.
His knife is as cold as sharp steel.
There is a list as long as the arm.
He keeps them on his hobby farm.
Young lady you must keep alarm,
And keep safe from real harm.
There is a killer on the prowl.
He is a dog that kills really fowl.
He copies Mack the Knife,
And he is out to take life.
Shallow grave Jean,
Leaves his murder site quite clean.
The bodies are pristine,
Apart from the wound,
All his victims are runed.
There is a killer on his way.
He keeps his time to stay -
And sure his victim he does play.
D.I. Brown, a lead she has found.
Having a profile of his trace
Brown can visualise his face,
Catching Shallow Grave Jean
Has now become a race.
M-A Chamberlin 2024.
Procession
The people ‘gin to gather early on
The low dawn to gain a sight.
A procession on a day a celebration,
And all go back in time, as to be a child,
Fam’lies get together at the street side.
On the city river, to catch the birdmen
Try to fly: crashing into the water
Wearing tragicomedy, with most funny,
and with pride.
It falls on labour celebration,
Of the eight-hours day,
Dressing up in fancy, the vehicles and the acts.
They all come to see the clowns.
Lets get together and have fun.
Parade opens, its motion is in glory,
Laughter, cheek and cheer,
The dancing and the fair.
Finally this all on one day of the year
The reason for this celebration
Famed by all, seeing the chosen…
The King and the Queen on the River Yarra
shows us the Moomba
Lets get together and have fun.
on Birrarung Marr.
© 2022. Mason-Albert Chamberlin
Hours
Bewitch me o queen of stars
No ounce of reason will be killed
with in me
In these dim lit hours
Come let us hold each-us too,
We are what is ours.
Now the lover we be each of us
A couple o’ candles
That bestow in our hour.
Each flame of wick is far
ever reaching, higher and higher.
Deep flax linen rouge is waves,
Moving as a sunset ocean.
In love and hot in each our appeal
And in this low-lit room, of shadows
We two entwine, grasping
and impassioned.
Your skin glows
The colour of the rose
That is called the queen of Sweden.
Hair flows in the breeze
Like flames burning bright auburn.
Pale eyes of adamantine iris lustre.
We recline and parley
At the edge of raven night,
The morning circle rises
With flections of spinning gold,
Violet sounds of lavender shower
Shows the obelisk stretch as a tower
In its space, into eternal flower.
© 2022 Mason-Albert Chamberlin
I am Gone
I am gone! By a bell of awareness
As much as nature has freed us to part.
After one deception
I arrived at the conclusion
You were safely factual.
After the second time
You asked of my charity
it came to you through nashy teeth.
Untruthful loveliness is ugly,
When one spends it on their legacy.
I lament you before I see your fall,
only content to hold up traffic
because your self abuse
is the only actions you enjoy.
It is now I realize your glutinous
favors was inane of, for my receipt.
Yes you gave me little things
kisses, sweetness, and your photo
saying please return.
In the end not knowing exactly
whether my dollars were being spent with sense.
The cents to go towards constructive habits.
Your head-strong mine-field of dangers
you leave yourself, is not your natural beauty.
And your beauty's request?
Leaving me nothing when it is glazed over
by the things you wipe out of your mind.
And the cherishing's you wipe out of your life.
Untruthful loveliness is ugly,
when one spends it on their legacy,
I lament you before I see your fall from grace!
Being content to hold up traffic,
As your self abuse is the only activity you enjoy!
© 2021 Mason-Albert Chamberlin
Mason Chamberlin Artist and Musician 