Brenton Booth From Sydney, Australia

Brenton Booth is a writer from Sydney, Australia.

NIGHT

It’s dark
and raining
heavy
and
I can hear
a car doing
burnouts on
the street
trying to
recover from
a 10 hour shift
working with
people I really
can’t stand,
Sartre was right:
hell is other
people,
I turn on the
radio
but the music
is terrible;
what has
happened to
music?
it is getting
worse and
worse every
year
I guess the
rain will have
to do for now
and the pleasure
of having escaped
hell for another
day.


DISAMBIGUATION

God is drunk again and the hedgehogs wont stop falling
from the sky my pockets as empty as my soul and the
wind wont let go it has already cracked the egg man
but wants more and I am not the big bad wolf I am little
more than alive on this new years day doing my best to
run from the monsters and stop thinking about all those
faces that no longer love me the trees falling like soldiers
in wars they will never understand living out seconds I
will never understand jesters and hangman all the same
to me now as I reach for the door hoping there’s something
else waiting for me on the other side this time.


THE UP AND DOWN

All things change
the moments that
cut through stone
like melted cream
the faces you wish
would always want
you near
the easy times when
you assume your
own perfection
it’s the way of
things:
good
bad
certain
uncertain,
days without problem
nights you pray will
never end
or
minutes harder than
death
and nights you’d prefer
to forget
it is the truth of life
the thing we all know
and must accept,
laying in bed now
on this Monday night
in Sydney
writing these words
in a notepad and thinking
about the absolute magic
of her—
wondering if we will ever
lay together in this bed
again.


THE GREAT ONES AND YOU

for most life is an acceptance;
for some it is more—
the special ones
the ones society never fully
understands,
the ones who speak as clear
as gods to us in the best books,
the ones who gave us precise
pictures of their minds in
abstract paintings,
the ones who danced finer
than beauty on the worlds
greatest stages,
the ones who turned feelings
into notes and filled our ears
with ecstasy,
the ones who spoke and
changed history;
tu fu,
nureyev,
gorki,
alexander,
ho chi min,
bach,
voltaire:
are perfect examples of this
greatness—
as were you
beautiful and alive
trying to wipe away my tears;
caring more for me than yourself—
even when i gave nothing back:
one of the truly special ones:
one of the ones that time should have rewarded.