Sydney's Face

It's funny I haven't written much patriotic, but I just found a brilliant way to use some odd things I've observed in the last two weeks. See folks this is how a poem emerges. This morning I looked up my Pops nostrils and I took out my iPhone and wrote down (as you do )that they looked like two almonds.

About a week before I looked out at the sunset and as it faded behind the blue mountains I thought of the light in a new way...like a big sagging lip drowsily maybe drooling onto the pillow as it goes to sleep.

Anyway everyone here's something a little lighter than my last posts. Just wanted to share that very insightful look inside the mind of a poet...haha. Hope it wasnt too disappointing.

Sydney's Face

I'm convinced Sydney has a face

With My pops almond nostrils
And a nose wrinkled with the same
Adorable crinkliness of my girlfriend

The tongue would be as long as its highways with a retractable tongue
Like my fathers old garage door

Its eyes would seem like juicy black fruits soaked in the stars of night
As they bathe in the Harbour

Hair spun carelessly in sand and on
Some days salt, chilli, oregano, chilli

He'd have my mums forehead
With the the same three lines she's worn since I first learned to frown

Bushy eyebrows like our former PM and the koalas stamped on our shield

A cheek soft and pillowy almost like one
Of those big fat gym balls
Delightful on the rump soft on the hands

A jaw and chin not carved in the Renaissance but blunted and crude like those shoddy things they call houses out west way

Maybe also it would be blue and wet skin amphibious and grotesque
Like the way you'll never know if you'll emerge from the sea with a grin
Or maybe a blue bottle attached lovingly to your leg

All the rest I've only just now made up but that's just as well
Because I saw the fat red lip
Of Sydney from my dull dreary quarters
It stretched flat and amber gold
Hanging slackly over the tops of the mountains