Let's run away Together
Let's run away together,
Well drive out to the Nullarbor,
Kidnap a minister along the way,
And hog tie him to the back floor.
Well find a camp spot on the Bight,
And I'll whisper to you sweet news,
I'll hold you in my arms over the cliff,
And propose in a way you won't refuse.
I'll say please marry me or the sea,
Either way you'll get wet feet,
But if you choose to marry me,
I'll throw in one foot massage complete.
If you say yes to my suggest,
We can wake the drugged minister,
Negotiate a vow making rate,
With Panadol thrown in for his cure.
We won't need family or friends,
Cause I ain't got any of either,
We'll erect a big sign saying WEDDING,
Friday noon on that cliff over there.
We'll have all the worlds backpackers,
Witnessing us saying I DO,
An international congregation,
Of nomads without a curfew.
The next day they will all leave us,
Alone in our cliff rock nest,
After they have signed my white tights,
And self-ied you in your white dress.
When the priest has signed our degree,
We can get him a hitch back to Perth,
While we stay cliff bound in love,
Practicing things that inspire birth.
I can sing to you love songs every night,
Until you get sick of my drone,
We can play on the highway my way,
In our tutus and tights two-tone.
So do you want to run away with me?
And be vigilante lovers gone wild,
2 Hearts at dawn - twenty paces,
Choose your weapon my lover child.
JUST TUTU IT√
This new page called Why Girl, originated after a woman hugged me in the SpudShed at Kelmscott, in Perth. I think if one is going to talk about women then one should go back to the very start;
My first love, and here it is:
I was 8 years old when I had my first girlfriend. We met through one of the Dee Why Primary School subjects called folk dancing, which took place in the playground every Tuesday. I believe there was an element of hand holding during this dancing and this could be to blame for the flame being ignited in one so young and senseless, me. I was too young and insecure to handle one girl on my own so I co-opted my best friend Paul Burridge to assist me when I would go to her place after school, for cake and hot milk. I do remember the nice times we had in her garden sunroom as her mum was real nice to me. They had a large block of land with a creek running through the front yard of it which I thought was quite cool. In September 1961 I turned 9 which is nearly a young man, so a couple of months later I plucked up the courage to ask Debbie out to the movies, Oh no not alone, but with Paul as back up “love protection”. I got the approval from Debbie's mother, on the basis that there would be 2 young men escorting her daughter via bus into the tourist town of Manly, where the movie: “Babes in Toyland” was debuting. We all got to Manly safe and mostly sound and when we got to the movie theatre I was elected to go and purchase the three tickets. I remember there was some debate and discussion as to why I bought three tickets which were at the very back of the front section, when I could have bought tickets in the next row back, which was in the cheaper back section of the theatre. Now if you think that was bad, well, it was to soon get worse for the ticket buyer. We had to wait a while before we could go into the theatre. When a young man is waiting with the girl he loves, and his mate watching on, and all this waiting is happening just after I stuffed up our limited finances with a bad ticket choice, a young man can tend to get a bit nervous. So the second and much worse mistake I made, was because I was nervous, I tore up all of the three theatre tickets that I was holding in my shaking nine year old hands. After I pleaded insanity and showed the doorman all of the ripped remnants, the doorman eventually let us into the theatre. Around about this time I thought love was slowly slipping between my sweaty fingers and into the arms of my best mate Paul, who was only supposed to be there for the support of me.
It must have been something in Babes in Toyland that inspired me to get creative with declaring my love for Debbie, because I got the idea to fold up a whole bunch of paper planes and inundate her backyard with the planes containing written declarations of love for her. Because Paul was still “assisting” I could not be so daring as to put my name to the messages, because I did not want to upset him and then lose the support of my wing man. So early one saturday morning a whole flock of paper planes were flung over Debbie Morrison’s fence, with the simple statement: I LOVE YOU DEBBIE, written inside each one of them. Then we both lickety split out of her back lane real quick before her mum or dad came chasing the mad lovers.
It is at this stage I have great difficulty in remembering how our relationship came to an end. Perhaps the ending and subsequent loss of love had such a great impact on me that my sub-conscience has blocked out the rest of the story. I vaguely remember that she moved away to another suburb, so that could have been part of the reason for love lost. Anyway, here is a poem about my first girlfriend.
My First Girlfriend
My first girlfriend was quite young,
Which scared the life out of me,
So I shared her with my best friend,
And we went everywhere as three.
I got to like her through school dancing,
It was a subject we could not escape,
We danced in the playground happily,
While some boys acted like wee apes
We would go to her place down the lane,
A nice walk past some tall oak trees,
She had a small creek in her front yard,
And her mum made cakes for us three.
We decided to tell of my love for her,
So we made a lot of white paper planes,
On each one we wrote “I love you Debbie”,
So she had to guess who was her flame.
Paul and I got the approval from her mum,
To take her out to brand new movie,
We all three took the bus into Manly,
Super nervous was my extremity.
I was in charge of buying the tickets,
And I was holding them while we waited,
But my nerves took a turn to anxious,
And each ticket was torn to a shred.
Well its funny the things we do for love,
Sharing, caring and tearing tickets,
But it makes for some good comedy,
50 years later living in the thickets.
There has only been a couple of maidens since my above voyage into all things love, and I am wondering if there might be one more excursion into the land of loving before I expire and make a commune of earth worms very fat and happy.
Over the past 5 years I have put a lot of thought into what exactly romance is, or more to the point what real romance should be about, and I have come up with my own theories which have been fermented into many poems.
I do think that the essence of what romance should be has been hijacked by this sex saturated society, to the point where sex is seen as the goal of romance. For example; nearly every modern romantic movie has the woman pinned up against the apartment door once the couple have finished their night out and sprinted up the stairs - after only their second date.
I do believe the goal of romance is the discovery, admiring, attributing value to and the affirming of the beauty of the inner life and character of the woman - in the first instance - as I believe it is more the responsibility of the man to lead the way, then the woman would reciprocate after experiencing this deep appreciation of love in regard to her womanhood. The wooing, valuing and the persuing of the woman in this way should be a life long experience and joy for the man throughout marriage - not just allocated for a once a year event called Valentines Day, so that the man might spend a little money to "get lucky'.
The celebration of their love within marriage through the sexual experience is rather the culmination of their proven love throughout the engagement period.
Here is a sample of the poetry that I write on the subject.
It's not the size of your dress,
That makes me love you so,
It's the size of your heart,
And because it's so mellow.
It's not your beauty that I see,
That sets my soul on fire,
It's your refined integrity,
That lifts my hopes up higher.
It's not the fact that you send,
My body to fits of fantasy,
But it is the real hard fact,
That you love me as me you see.
It's not the fact that your smile,
Is the most beautiful I've seen,
But it's the fact that you smiled,
On our first day as in a dream.
Its not the fact that your eyes,
Beam brighter than any other,
It's because you're the only one,
Who I would want for a lover.
It's not the fact you're beautiful,
But this makes you rich and rare,
It's our simple love that seems,
Like one girl and boy who care.
Now all of the above brings us now to story of the woman who hugged me in the Spudshed on the 13th February 2016, and here is the story;
I met a woman who hugged me tender.
It all happened in The Kelmscott SpudShed during a recent trip to Perth.
It took me 4 hours to pack up all my tights and tutus and pack the ute for the drive home. Just before leaving Lesmurdie at 9:30 am, I decided to drive back down the hill towards Perth and down the Albany highway to Kelmscott, because there is a SpudShed there. I have heard a lot about the Spudsheds and I wanted to purchase some fresh apples and other veggies .
So I got dressed in my traveling tights with accessories, some new, and headed off with the help of my GPS. Forgot to listen or watch the GPS and took a wrong turn and ended up driving away from Kelmscott. Saw the light of pending disaster and chucked a U turn when the access became available.
Anyway, ended up at Kelmscott and found the huge Spudsheds without any further twisting of my tights. Alighted from my ute (nice word alighted, but could be too hoity- toity for this story) so I better just say - got out of the ute, adjusted my accessories, headphones and that everything was right and tights shape. From the doorway to the apple bay things went rather smoothly, but then some interaction was initiated with a lady who had two beautiful small girls, who were somewhat taken with Boy Pink. During the conversation and jokes I noticed that the smallest girl had a black tutu on. She was sitting in the shopping trolley, as they do, with her legs dangling out the back of the trolley. When I saw her tutu, I remembered my pink one which was in my glittery pink Hello Kitty bag.
I said to the little girl and the mum - "I've got one of them, and guess what color it is? (Pause) PINK, and I've got it I my Hello Kitty bag." Got the tutu out of my bag, and proceeded to do a mini Spudshed floorshow - "Just Tutu It".
Well that and some dancing was all it took to turn a Spudshed into a one man concrete floor cabaret. I realized then that I had her, and the girls in a safe space, so that when she asked if she could have some pictures taken - and of course I said yes - I got adventurous. I said to her, "just go along with me".
A lady shop assistant offered to take the pictures for the shopping woman (who would be in her thirties) and she looked slight of build - so I decided to - pick her up in my arms - but her bones must have been made of titanium or some other metal - so I struggled a bit and she ended up balancing on my knee -:) with me in crouching lame tiger position, with my left arm outstretched and the woman had her right arm outstretched. Meanwhile the shop assistant was snapping away and the kids were laughing like mad and everyone in that area of the shop was involved in some way, either laughing, running away or calling for a big roll of shrink wrap to contain me. I then repeated the photo-shoot with the oldest daughter and other shoppers who came up to get some of the attraction action. The youngest stayed in the trolley - for she was only about two years old.
This carried on as I completed my purchases around the huge shop. At the checkout the fun continued while working the checkout chick and the woman next to me who were at first, reserved, - now one does not let an odd blank stare detract from the mission - "the show must go on". Both of these ladies warmed up and started smiling and laughing and during this bout at the checkout I noticed something about 5 checkouts to the left. The lady with the two little girls was at the checkout and she had someone else with her, a man, who I guessed was her husband. She appeared to be talking to him and motioning or pointing up towards me, so what I gleaned from it was that she was blooding him in to what had been happening in the shed. I sensed that this man would be fine if I went down there and approached him - so I said in a loud voice with both of my arms fully outstretched: “I am sensing that there is one more person who needs a Free Hug before I leave the shed, don’t be shy children we need to start loving one another, its time for hugging”. I then moved slowly towards the fifth checkout to the left, where the family were still packing their green groceries. When I got to about seven paces away from the man I opened my arms wide and looked at him smiling and said to him: “I think its you young man, I think you are the potential huggee”. and kept walking towards him. His smile was radiant as he put his arms around me, and we hugged at checkout number five to the left. The whole family was happy.
I pushed my trolley of goodies past all the checkouts and towards to big exit door where there was a young man in his fluroescent yellow SpudShed work clothes, packing spuds up in a pile, he smiled, and I invited him, he hesitated and I went in for a second try and He hugged me with gusto. Two steps backward and and one pirouette found me in the arms of a woman who I have named The Spudwoman. This woman was around the same height and build as I except she had more of the feminine bits and pieces that what I do, which is generally a good thing. However, this woman hugged me in a way no other Free Hugs recipient has ever hugged me before.
She snuggled in so close and embedded herself into my torso so much so that I still have the remnants of her mud map tracks upon my aged anatomy. While she was in the process of embedding herself, she accompanied it with a muffled groan and speaking the words not quite in my left ear; “I would love to take you home”.
These words caused no small of a ruffling and a shuffling throughout the complete perimeter of my pink tutu, to the point that I became speechless. I had never been confronted with such a bold offer in all my years of street performing. I did not have any prepared one-liners for such an offer, so she caught me off guard. I gave her one of my Boy Pink cards, which I give to everybody, and she said something about being able to “look me up”.
So, it was after this Free Hug, or one might might prefer to call it a Free Snug, I started to think about formulating some appropriate come back lines. The first one that came to mind was: “I’m ready willing and celibate, and thats the way i’ll stay”.
After writing this one line down, it gradually grew to become the following 29 verse poem. Therefore, if the Spudwoman happens to be reading this one day, she may know that her very warm hug produced offspring in the form of me detailing the characteristics of my future wife, if there be any who fits the following:
I’M READY WILLING AND CELIBATE
I'm ready willing and celibate,
Until the Lord God sends to me,
A woman who's heart is honest,
Ripe for love and matrimony.
This woman will have a greater love,
For the God who directed her steps,
Along life's path and into my heart,
For then our love will be God blessed.
I'm ready willing and celibate,
For my second bite at the berry,
As it will bring a deeper depth,
To woo a heart from go to merry.
I will woo her and romance her,
With fire flamed in purity,
I will write of innocent desire,
To her in my best pink poetry.
For romance at its very best,
Is devoid of a deceitful lust,
And full of want for her better,
In faith and hope and trust.
To see through her beauty skin,
And dig deep for the inner allure,
That makes her woman tic and tock,
Before knowing her in pleasure.
To hold her hand and understand,
She needs time and tenderness,
She needs thought and understanding,
She needs a quality of sweet caress.
I'm ready willing and celibate,
And that's how I shall remain,
Until my Lord should lead me to,
A woman of noble heart terrain.
This woman will have a sense,
Both common and of humour,
She is a mystery of rare beauty,
One of Gods best and so demure.
Her sense of humour is wacky,
It has a twist of golden glee,
She sees the beauty in life,
Through wide eyes of purity.
And she must love to dance,
At every chance we may get,
To celebrate this wonder life,
Casting away all past regret.
She will be a lover of tights,
Just like a Wonder Woman,
Lycra or not she will look hot,
And looking good in them.
If she happens to be a size 14,
We can share our tights and tops,
I can be her Cosplay bad boy,
And she can play the lady cops.
But most of all she’s beautiful,
And i’m talking about inside,
Her heart is true to a fault,
She fills me with real pride.
Her tenderness is unparalleled,
She is strong in her quiet way,
She is meek but not so weak,
She needs love to be her stay.
She has a sweet childlikeness,
In her depth of femininity,
Which brings to her a glamour,
Of true blue gritted nobility.
She will want to live as a transient,
Upon this earth with me in heart,
With a passion for each other,
That till death we never part.
Jesus came to give up his life,
That others needs may be met,
Until you taste and feel His love,
Your love will lack its main event.
Self sacrifice is the heart of love,
And if it ain't - it ain't real love,
You can paint it red or even pink,
But its just a grey day dove.
Self serving love may last a while,
But the cracks of self will appear,
The “he wants this” and “she wants that”,
Without a heart of giving what is dear.
Its a well meant pretend mirage,
With the best intent of feelings fine,
For it sees that it will get its wants,
While being unmoved to lose it's "mine".
But real love is quite different,
It sees someone else to cherish,
It sees a person with a heart,
Who holds the exact same wish.
Love is patient love is kind,
And love is one self sacrifice,
We must be willing to give all,
For the others needs to suffice.
God provides for all our cares,
We have no fret to be in need,
As long as we focus on the giver,
And not His gifts we often greed.
So she must be in love with Jesus,
Much more than she loves me,
For that's the only way real love,
Can be tested for its integrity.
She will want to take a risk,
For her master who in great love,
Took the greatest risk in blood,
To make for her a home above.
I see her now amid the crowd,
She glows out from her within,
She has loved me before time,
All we need now is to begin.
I’m ready willing and celibate,
And that is the way i’ll stay,
Until God brings a girl who sings,
Of Him and all His ways.
I'm ready willing and celibate,
But if God rather me be a monk,
I’ll hug you all with more gusto,
And I shall not be in want.
JUST TUTU IT√
IS THERE ANYBODY OUT THERE
It is a great song by the Potbelleez, and Jeep knew it and snapped it up to use it to sell their
All American Jeeps:
DON'T HOLD BACK
Is there anybody out there feeling something?
Don't hold back
Is there anybody out there feeling something?
Well, somewhere in the following poem
that I just wrote,
the question could also be asked:
IS THERE ANYBODY OUT THERE
You do not have to be,
Any more than who you are,
For it's the who that's you,
Who jams my love radar.
You do not have to try,
Anymore or any less,
Just be the humble woman,
Who loves to wear a dress.
You do not have to buy,
Anything to make us click,
For it's you and only you,
That all my boxes tick.
You do not have to smile,
Any brighter than you do,
For when I see your smile,
My heart it beats times two.
You do not have to make,
Much ado about anything,
I just want to be near you,
So I can hear you sing,
You do not have to change,
Anything about yourself,
Except the fear that lingers,
Keeping you upon the shelf.
You do not have to fear,
For that's what holds you tame,
Stand up and spread your wings,
Fly to me and take my name.
JUST TUTU IT√