THE MALONEY SCRAPBOOK

  STUDYING THE CLIENTELE (Written by Warren Maloney - March 1978)   The café is open; the first stragglers, tiredly blaze Walk in with an air: The sameness of this – our present schedule.   The weekend was fun – Yes, really a maze. It was fabulous – rather dull – or perhaps cool, Say some of the crowd.   Now, this is middle-week though: and what a bore, Swotting – some frantically, others stolidly – but more And more concentrating – for the end of the term, I must win – or go around the bend – Say some of the crowd.   An hour or two later – the earnest types pass by, Rather nice and polite – their minds far away, The girls rather sweet: the boys so, so hungry, Relaxation or meditation: one must keep things at bey – Say more of the crowd.   Some bustlers and hustlers mingle with the meek, The near natural girl, with the modern outlook – her hair neat and fashioned, And the really nice kid, with his hand in his ...

  MISSING without LEAVE (Written July 1977 by Warren Maloney) Her twilight eyes spoke to me Over the echoing stillness Of a driftwood room And reflected the gloom Of the empty tomb Where my thoughts would wander In search of some place to rest.   She went home and left me To walk through my memory To finally find A shattered mind One step behind A dream that was changing The worst to show the best.   I watched the moon fading Into an electric sunrise I felt the shock Of the trembling clock That I know I could not stop With the press of a button And return to my dreaming.   I could not find her My visions danced and tumbled A soldier fighting An eagle gliding A finger writing I finally woke again And lived another day.

  ODE TO A PEN (written 31 st May 1977 by Warren Maloney – on being away from Karen)   I sit by a window A large 6 pained window And look at the cerise drapes Inhibiting the factories Of Launceston.   I sit and I wonder Why it is 2 months Since I last wrote   Is it dis-orientation? Or exhaustion Or boredom I don’t know   So, I start And write to the one person I really love and need And hope she understands   Somehow when writing I feel better and I can love.

  A SOURCE OF MY KNOWLEDGE (Written by Warren Maloney – June 1969)   Love is the desire to understand my Woman, Her breasts are a rapport for that knowledge.               Her breasts reflect not her sex,             Not the mammary instincts to feed,             To provide her test of Motherhood,             No, they are her Stage, reflecting             Her emotions, her desires, her concealed             Ardent will to please another.               Their lives change with the advancing             Cries o...

K. A. S. (Written by Warren Maloney – February 1968)   She smiled,                         And the flowers became trees,                         The trees became branches,                         And the branches became me. She smiled,                         But the moon did not shine,                         The dark became black,              ...

FRENZIED APATHY (Written by Warren Maloney – February 1968 – after fighting the Upwey fires)   Charred memories lying on scarred soil; A small clay jug scorched black; A twisted plastic baby rattle; An iron water pipe standing defiant and alone; All for the sake of Convenience.   A total fire ban day, But rubbish on our hands; A State-wide warning, But rubbish on our hands; All for the sake of Convenience.   Fire, Fire on the wall – who is the most dangerous of us all? You or We who do not care?  

                                2   3   8 (by Warren Maloney – January 1968  – on the sale of the family home  at 238 Lygon Street Carlton)                  Sixty-two years and it did not belong.              the wall-paper tattered, the stair-case faltered,             as the memories gathered for the mourning.               "member when Ronnie crawled in the ceiling,                  and when ray was born.”             “member the lane, the pigeons, the punch-bag,             and the premature...