Saturday, August 1, 2009

STATE OF (AB)ORIGIN

There are perhaps 200 languages
and several more dialects they say
unique, unrelated to each other
alas, most are extinct today

The one that's given us the most words
is Dharug, apparently, spoken by the Kooris
from those original settlers around what we call Sydney
comes boomerangs, wombats, koalas and wallabies

From Riverine region languages like Wiradjuri
we get billabong and kookaburra
while the Kamiloroi or Kooma
have given us the budgerigar

Didgeridoo is from the musical tribe, the Yolngu
up north in Arnhem Land
Billinudgel, a place of plentiful sparrows
from the Biripi, near Byron's golden sand

Such a huge compendium of words from millenia
yet to few of them do we ever recourse
it's time we took some interest (and pride)
and used 'em imaginatively in our modern discourse



Tuesday, July 28, 2009

GETTING TOGETHER, TOGETHER

We Mendii gathered informally in Sydney
At Jeanne's and Rog's place on the 11th and 12th of July
three generations of us from Ceylon, NZ, Britain and Oz
to mark our arrival forty years ago ... time sure does fly
my siblings and I are the 'now generation' ... orphans
our parents having passed away giving birth to us twice
John (and Linda) were absent but represented by Kirsty
they could have said 'cooee', it would have been nice
Sydney was cold to us Qlders but the family was warm
we visitors from the north took a trip to Taronga Zoo with Jess
visited friends, the Art Gallery and the Opera House on a walkabout
rugged up like mountain climbers, feeling the cold I confess

There was some grouse tucker to consume and scads of it
everybody brought a plate in the Aussie tradition
we heaped the succulent bounty onto our plates
while imbibing, chattering and adoring the 'magi' sans condition
difficult to believe that we had our own landing in Oz
five days before man walked anywhere else but on earth
my siblings and I, like millions of others were thrilled by their feat
but nowhere near as thrilled as we were with our second birth

We'll see each other again from time to time in New South or Qld
I'd like to gather 'em all together in another 10 years time
to celebrate our 50th anni with newer progeny and gusto
but may I suggest strongly we do it in Qld, a warmer clime?

 

Thursday, July 23, 2009

WHO WAS WHO AT TARONGA ZOO

While in Sydney for a family get-together
we Qld Mendii and Jess went to the zoo
a visit of discovery for gee-kiddies and us
it was on our list for months as a 'Sydney must-do'
We drove instead of taking a ferry or train
relieved of our money by the many tolls to our destination
found it changed a lot since our last visit
the temporary entrance caused a bit of consternation
The solitary Komodo Dragon obviously didn't like the cold
certainly the largest of its type I've ever seen
was Roie impressed? was Ty?  .... hard to say
Roie was making noises, taking in the scene
The giraffes were hard to miss, necks longer than legs
chimps lounged about except for one arial gymnast
the African waterhole with its pygmy hippo and birds
zebras and sntelope skittered by as we went past
Mountain goats abseiled from their eyrie insouciantly
(I think Ro liked their agility and daring) .....
Fennec foxes and meerkats standing up and looking around
spider monkeys and pandas, their coats red and glaring
The elephant house with its new unsteady arrival
was the most popular place at the zoo that day
walked past the well-dressed penguins and leopard seals
some of them knifing through the water in a high-speed play
Took in the seal show, the next most popular event
cared less about their performance, more about their sleek form
then on to the kids zoo where the domestic animals dwelled
soon after, our visit ended in a pelting rainstorm
I don't know about the others but I enjoyed the day-out
it is an excellent place to take the young to see ..
animals, birds, mammals, reptiles from all the worlds's continents
but mainly to teach them that other species like us should be free



 

OUR LOCALS ARE BEAUTIES

I'm referring to the natives, plants that have evolved over eons
thriving in conditions sandy, salty, windy almost cyclonic
crucial to protecting our dunes and coast from erosion
from sudden storms and deluges, awesome and demonic
Wallum, the coastal heathland plant native to this area
is considered just as important as a rainforest tropical
protecting everything beneath a impenetrable canopy
providing food and shelter for native bird or animal
More and more of this ancient wallum is disappearing
bushes, sedges, grasses, shrubs giving way to 'development'
leaving only small pockets of native bushland behind
to be over-run and destroyed by exotics beyond containment
I'll be rooting out the introduced weeds and pests that lurk
and plant more natives that belong to the region
adapted to the conditions that have prevailed ...
I hope they'll flourish and fruit or flower in profusion
Coastal banksia, pandanus, tuckeroo, myrtle and lasiandra
I'm even trying Fraser Island creeper where it's sunny
no camphor laurel, cocos palm, cassia, umbrella or lantana
even confined the mock orange in a pot, a safe bet for my money
I like where I'm living these days on the Sunshine Coast
the aspect is fine, the weather and the neighbours are kind
I could live for a while in the hinterland or on the range
but the coast and its natives are irresistible, just divine

IN PRAISE OF MICHAEL JACKSON

I won't be crying nor will I hold a vigil for the man
That's a modern phenomenon I just can't swallow
I'd rather concentrate on his talent and skill
It's his terrific music legacy I'd rather follow

A hellava dancer ... who could forget those moves?
'Thriller', the album had everybody gyrating
He was the maestro who married pop song to dance
To me 'Off The Wall' was electrifying

He had a voice that soared and was so pure
Even as a young tacker he was the centrepiece
Whether with the Jackson Five or McCartney
Magnetic, he did it all with grace and ease

Some people are born to entertain .. he was one
Us mortals are thrilled by the brilliance of him and  others
He lit up the world with his dance and music
And he's up there with the best of the brothers

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

HOW I BECAME POSITIVE IN LIFE

I was an orphan. All my life I had been treated with dain and I felt wanted. It was whispered I was legitimate, the child of a licit union between two literate people. My character peached, my pecunity established, I had nothing to pede me. Scrupulous people had treated my fellow orphans and me fairly and bominably over terminable years. Why we were treated like that was logical and fathomable. Though we were a ruly bunch, I maintained a chalant exterior and tried to persuade the other to look gruntled or consolate.

We lived in a very descript dwelling. The garden was in a state of array. Kempt shrubs and beds and shevelled paths. Even the gardener moved in a gainly way. A bit of care and the place would be mitigable. Sometimes on pulse I felt I could molate the moral intendent in the cinerator along with his calcitrant staff. He was so perious and pervious yet perturbable if any of us were pertinent. I liked him.

I'll make bones about it, I still had to leave. Once out, I'd have to travel cognito. Mured as a orphan, I'd become mune to ship. Every road I'd choose was practicable, every argument I'd use would be plausible for I'd plicate none of my fellow orphans nor ply any staff had helped me on my way.

I left with ception for I duced that they would except me to so do. 


Thursday, May 28, 2009

THOSE KINGS OF THE HRCA CHURCH

You think Papa Benedicts not such a good 'un
with his comments about contraception
but his predecessors of the 16th century take the cake
a book titled "Secrets of the Papal table"
surely sounds like a fantastic fable
medieval and renaissance Popes loved their steak

Men with raging, gluttonous 'La Grande Bouffe-type' appetites
they'd devour anything from truffles to even epiphytes
cried Leo the 10th "It's our papacy, so let's enjoy it"
from 1521 to 1531 his love of luxury and entertainment
art , letters, style and substance knew no containment
and to satisfy the Lord, he said "Lent? Let us observe it"

To celebrate his familiy's elevation to the Roman patriciate
he threw a feast at which 300 guests did participate
from their unfolded napkins little birds hopped out of
while their attired pages in threads of gold brought silver ewers
of rosewater for guests to wash their hands, face (an ears)
afore tucking into 25 lucullan courses of epcurean foodstuff 

Dishes of sugared capons baked in a casing of gold leaf preceded
by vessels of hoops and gilded balls from which birds ascended
(a much grander scale that 'four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie')
then eight dish dishes of mature baked peocock
dressed in skin and feathers and standing up at 12 o'clock
(you'd think they were alive without a word of a lie)

Rodrigo Borgia reigned disgracefully as Alexander the 6th
around 1494 he designed the Torre Borgia, a torture pit
that was decorated by the famed Pinturicchio
his numerous illegitimate offspring lived and died there
deployed his assassins and stored his poisons where ....
they got rid of his enemies with brioche and brio

But during Lent he'd observe seasonal fasts strictly
eating sparsely in public on salads, fish soups and chickpeas
alone, he'd gorge himself on desserts and panpepato's
fond of parties with his appalling children and their off-spring
his table groaning with capons, eels, sauces and exotic things
even pheasants in human skulls,  saying 'eat up, let other's be martyrs'

Another libertine was Alessandro Farnese of renaissance times
Paul the 3rd whose behaviour was egregious even for the times
who was nick-named 'della gonella' (the skirt chaser)
he practiced nepotism on a Theucydian scale most wild
bestowed on his every vile, grasping child
yet scrupulously observed his duties liturgical as a pastor

He's remembered for masquerades and licentious plays
extravagant feast, spectacles and other bacchnalian displays
his estates supplying him with oranges, cherries, wild boar and hare
deer, pigeon, pheasant, eels in feast prepared by chefs
a sommerlier provided wine that left the guests senses bereft
when he died of indigestion he hiccuped "I don't care"

An earlier Pope, Simon de Brion reigned as Martin the 4th
from 1281 to 1285, very briefly and was known as 'Martin Uncouth'
he had a passion for Bolzano eels in astringent white wine
so depraved in his gluttny, he kept a tank of them in his room
while drowning them in venaccia wine he would swoon
very little is recorded whether he like other meats, the swine

Those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it it's said
Henry the 1st of England ate too many lampreys and soon was dead
about 150 years before Martin Uncouth (and following Popes)
yet these licentious, obsessive, gluttonous, gourmandising men
a disaster for the Church and the State ... now and then
ironically died by their own mouths, thank God, the dopes 

 

ADIOS MUCHACHO, DON'T CALL US .....

It wasn't so long ago that the man with the unpronounceable name
Zigismund Zwitkowski was giving Telstra a bad name 
its second and third traches sank without a trace but ...
to 'Dr" Ziggy and the oink-boys that was just another game
But behold and lo, the Yank who took over from ZZZZZZZZ
arrived in our village with two bandidos to make 'the gang of three' 
there was no 'Magnificent Seven'  to hold them back
uttering wank business words, they set about robbing the money-tree
10,000 employees needed a rest so they made it an enforced one
'Broadband? Sure we'll build you one but only the juicy parts'
they wanted their competitors bobbled, hobbled and nobbled
so, about regulation they whinged and threw corporate darts
For five years they plundered pillaged and (g)raped
(they were a group, the gang of three, weren' they?)
then they flew away in first-class like the first-class thieves they were
to Noo Yoik or where-ever-the-hell they came from in Amerikay
This hubristic hombre was heard on the Beeb the other day
lamenting our naivety, our hedonism, our (gasp) racism
its a pity he didn't remove the mote from his own eye
this paragon, this barbarian, this champion of greedism
Let's turn the page on this obnoxious person
and heed history in appointing foreigners to jobs
there's plenty of Aussies who're just as good hatchet-men
among all our peters, pauls, jims, johns or bobs 

Thursday, May 21, 2009

PIXIE'S PASSING

Pixie passed away on a Monday in May
soon after I'd arrived at Taabinga
I saw her briefly when I dropped Harry off
then had a quick look around Kinga
back at Windchimes I did a quick trip to the tip
with a full load of stuff behind me
went back into town about 4 pm
to bring Harry home for evening tea
as we walked down the aisle to say goodnight
we were met by the hospital nursing staff
who said 'Harry, we're sorry to tell you ...
Pixie's gone, from this life's she's passed
Harry staggered and leaned against the wall
I hung on to his arm as we went to where she lay
I left him alone in his grief, overwhelmed
while I pondered about this unhappy day
Colin and Libby turned up as soon as they could
and stated the whole sad process of interment
we took Harry home and we all had a drink
at the extinguishment of a star in our firmament

Saturday, May 16, 2009

THE MAN WHO LOVED POETRY

"I came out through the same door as in I went"
was the line of a favourite poem he would recite
during those early years at Capalaba as we three were ...
renewing relationships, starting life with no kids in sight
He'd talk about 'his footprints in the sands of time'
I'd respond with 'Horatius at the bridge' or Annabelle Lee'
he took me back to the time I was a kid
listening to my father who, like Don, had a love of poetry
Don brought it all back ... that love for poetry
his life mirrored by the wisdom of the prose
whether by accident of design it doesn't matter
he gave much more than he got from those ......
of us, who loved and admired the man
a 'live and let live' bloke who never rushed to judge
he'd rather give people the benefit of the doubt
kept his own counsel, from that he would not budge
not a paragon of virtue he'd be the first to concede
he's laugh, and indication he never took himself seriously
if things were grim he'd come up with another line
a throwaway, laced with levity but apt poetically
I'll miss him greatly, the man who loved poetry
these last years would have been so much easier
if we'd been able to exchange poetical repartee
of Lawson, Byron, Paterson or Shakespeare

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

IT'S THE LIBIDO, STUPID

When you're in financial distress, your house in a mess
your relationship under duress, you'll confess I guess
that the sharemarket isn't the only thing to go ... down

Psychologists and counsellors say, in a caring sort of a way
although your foundations blown away and you don't care to lay
with the person with whom you stay and play
that libidinous surge, that emotional urge to merge
needing the pure drug-like effects of lust that scourge ...
your body can sometimes grate on you like a  dirge

So you use the 'Not tonight, Josephine' line
and it's not that you've had too much wine
you roll off or away and you present your back , that rigid spine
treading a fine line, knowing things aren't fine
aware that you just can't 'up the ante' ..... too far behind

It's not your dick, you dill, it's in your head
you dread being with her in bed
but your tadger's withered and she's bewildered and bothered
what should be her passionate moans are just groans
and she sighs and rubs her thighs
knowing another night's just full of lows instead of highs
your anxiety builds for your corpora cavernosa isn't filled
your brain's disconnected.. under the circumstances only to be expected
leaving her ejected, rejected and dejected

It's well to remember (in the Chrissy month of December)
that everything goes up and comes down
so play the clown, don't despair or frown
your defective libido's not permanent
it will soon be your firmament
for in the New Year, never fear, it will be like that spear
that flies straight and true, soon you'll apply the screw
in a rampant rising sharemarket ... and your lover who's true-blue 

FRED

He's a great bloke our friend Fred
a man of many a colour
an artist, a writer, a raconteur, a participant
an optimist, not a dolour

He's had the odd struggle or ten
life's googlies he's played with a straight bat
loves a yak or yarn or a discourse about anything
from global cooling to Cocos Island to dogs or cats

We've known him and Fleur since Banks St days
our boys linking us to friendship firm and fine
spent many a day in their colourful company since
cards or board-games ... tea and sympathy anytime

He's a relaxed man in tune with his circumstance
unafraid to express an opinion, he won't be led
always worth a visit just for the entertainment
a ripper of a bloke that's our Fred

Sixty today ... strewth! He's like a long-distance runner
I bet he never thought he'd live to see the day
tempus sure fugits Fred, we're glad to be with you
what more can we say but ... Happy Birthday

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

THE GLOVE-BOX

Every car's got one, big or small
located in the dash, it's a repository
maps, rego, pens, tissues, cutlery, tablets
and a curious collection of cards funerary

We were looking for a map of Queensland
to check out a campsite at O'Reillys
as Paul trawled through the box she found 
cards about Dad, David Pate and Bobby's ...

Mass or service hymnals going back to 2004
we'd put in the glove-box with the intention
of removing it later (but it's easy to forget)
because of one's poor memory retention

They mount up this collection of people's passing
always in a place close to you sans keys or locks
to occasionally remind you of death or life
and that we'll all end up in someone's glove-box

Friday, April 17, 2009

GEE-KIDDIES .... I LOVE 'EM BOTH

These two young tackers, Ro and Ty
captivate me with their presence
a bit like chalk and cheese they seem
their different stature being that very essence

One's big and shy when he first meets you
(You know who I'm talking about)
the other's lithe and laid-back
doesn't like being wakened or put out

I think Roie likes me... after he's warmed up a bit
occasionally he'll bring me his shoes to go for a walk
we'll set off for the bush at the end of the street
the dog's in tow, he's too busy looking around to talk

Ty doesn't roar like Ro or make loud noises
(I haven't heard him do so .... yet)
I'm told he has his moments like every baby has
just biding his time I'll bet

I look forward to seeing these young fellers
they're the fruit-bowl of my prideful eye
time spent with gee-kids are never dull
I'm hoping they think the same way about me by and by ...

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

THAT MIND-NUMBING, INSANE, INANE, MIND-GAME

Facebook .. on the face of it another great communication tool. Initially latched onto by the young as all fads inevitably are, osmosis-like it sinks its insidious hooks into the concupiscent not-so-young, there to remain long after it has ceased to be a fad for the young ... who have embraced the next fad that emanated from the febrile, mercantile imagination of another shrewd entrepreneur. Get off your apolaustic appaloosa I hear you say?

Let's face it. Facebook (FB) is a thief of time, up there with the maestro of thieves of time ... TV. Call me a recalcitrant Luddite or a boring old fluff for I've only heard of this latest scourge from others and seen it but once, only to wonder in wonder that one can "friend" somebody, anybody based on a real or perceived affinity. FB's yet another site to share your most intimate or inane thoughts or photos or menus or disorders or bodily functions with other facetoids who have nothing much to do like you. Perhaps to be embarrassed later on by Face-disclosures by disgruntled Face-totalisators?

Face it fair and square for within days of your Facebirth, you will have generated perhaps hundreds of Facefriends with facefaces. Like porn, you get to figuratively take off your identity and abase yourself in public, a public that's increasingly inured to debasement of oneself or others. There's the horrible stories of the bloke instead of cleaving to his wife for life actually cleaving his wife to death for changing her FB status to single or anorexics showing each other new ways to purge themselves or young thugs gate-crashing .... you get the picture? You don't? Just get on FB and it's revealed in all it's horrible vacuity.

To face it mildly, FB brings out the voyeur in us. It's like a reality-show star's unquenchable thirst for revealing every detail of their life in minutia, no matter how unexceptionally boring, excruciating or stultifying. On FB, you are convinced that everything you do in life must be inherently and absorbingly interesting enough to alert every faceghoul to its importance.

Updates are the go ... Symantha is cooking cookies, Jaidon is going to footy practice this arvo, Kylah-Leaeane is glad its the weekend, Braith is going to raid the icebox and Rybekkah ... is gonna do a great doo-do rightaway. You get my drift ..... 

Having been exposed to the wonderful world of FB aka Fu^%$%^ Bull$&*^, I'll get back to the other world of email that's mostly devoid of pretenders or poseurs. I prefer to trade insults or stories on the basis that I (generally) know the recipients and accept their reciprocation in good humour. 

Sunday, March 22, 2009

THE LIE OF THE LAND

Earth's sixth largest country by area at 7,682,300 square kilometres, its low mountain ranges and generally flat topography reflects the age of its landscape and extensive erosion which has occurred over millions of years.
The continent lies at the centre of the large Indo-Australian plate. As mountain ranges are formed by tectonic plate collisions, the absence of plate boundaries within our landmass are the reasons why we have low mountains and infinitesimal earthquake activity.

During it's long geological jouney, Oz has drifted north. 600 million years ago it was part of the Gondawana supercontinent, flanked by India in the west and Antarctica in the south. In Jurassic times (150 million years ago) a rift appeared between Oz and Antarctica.  50 million years later the Tasman sea was formed and 45 million years later, Oz broke away to begin its leisurely journey north. Soon it collided with the Eurasian plate and the Pacific plate resulting in cataclysmic volcanic eruptions that gave birth to the young, high landforms of New Guinea and Indonesia complete with growing mountains and nascent volcanos.

The Oz landmass consists of three main topographical regions. The Western Plateau covering about two-thirds of the land, the Central Lowlands and Eastern Highlands where three-quarters of the population live today. Some of the world's most ancient rocks are found in the Western Plateau, dated at more that 4000 million years old. Our oldest geological formations, the crustal, around which the rest of the continent grew are the Pilbara Block in the northwest and the larger Yilgarn Block in the southwest which was formed about 3500 million years ago. Sediments accumulating over them raised the block above sea level while erosion of these landforms deposited large quantities of iron on the seabed forming thick layers of iron-rich rocks found today in what is the Hamersley Range.

Around 200 million years ago, due to vocanic activity and plate movement, new areas of crust rose above the sea in northern and central Oz. These youngsters, along with the Yilgarn and the Pilbara grew into three large masses in the far west, the north and the south. 900 million years later they bonded to form the West Australian plateau. Soon after, the plateau was covered by two ice ages about 730 million year ago. And, 600 million years later, shock waves created by the formation of Gondwana created a vast mountain range known as the Petermann Mountains. Snow-fed rivers fed sediments down to the plains below to build the inselbergs we know as monoliths today ie: Ayers Rock, Mt Connor, The Olgas and others.

Oz was much wetter during the late Mesozoic and early Cenozoic ages, when (15 million years ago), numerous rivers flowed across the Western plateau. Extensive erosion resulted, leaving chains of salt pans scattered across the land. Some of these ancient rivers formed when Oz was part of Gondwana. Today, their headwaters may lie in Antarctica ...

At the plateau's southern edge lies the featureless and flat Nullabor Plain. Consisting mainly of limestone, it was formed under shallow seas during the early to mid-tertiary period about 60 million years ago. It was then uplifted during the Miocene Epoch, 25 million years ago. Today the Plateau is covered by large deserts that are sand, clays or stones deposited by water or wind erosion. Occasional rainfall has formed floodplains along desert streams but the region has few rivers. Most of them rise at the edge of the plateau and flow to the western and northern coastlines.

The Central Lowlands lie from the Gulf of Carpentaria to the Murray-Darling delta, from the Western Plateau to the Eastern Highlands. The land comprises layers of sediments left over million of years ago by rivers and seas. During the Cretaceous Period (145-165 million years ago), an enormous sea covered much of the northern Central Lowlands. Numerous rivers emptied into this sea which subsequently flowed into the Southern Ocean. The Central Lowlands consist of a narrow belt that abuts the Western Australian plateau along the Darling fault escarpment, an enormous fault line created by gigantic rifts around 200 million years ago.

As the seas retreated and the climate became more arid, rivers dried up to form an inland drainage network that empties into lakes including Lake Eyre. The sedimentary rocks of the Central Lowlands contain the Great Artesian Basin, an enormous aquifer that covers about 22 per cent of the continent. It is the major source of underground water in the continent and is replenished by rivers that flow down from the Eastern Highlands.

The Eastern Highlands, incorrectly known as The Great Dividing Range, extends from northern Queensland to Tasmania. It is not a single mountain range but a series of plateaus, mountains and volcanos. They formed about 540 million years ago when an ocean plate on the eastern side of Oz plunged under the continental plate pushing up volcanic islands as sediments collected along the plate boundaries. These continued to accumulate and build over the next 200 million years (the Permian and Triassic Periods) gradually forming the eastern third of Oz. During this period, the folding of the crust created sedimentary basins where plant-life occurred which then  turned into rich coal deposits slowly ......

Volcanic activity continued. Parts of the highlands consist of volcanic deposits formed as the Indo-Australian plate slowly moved northwards over hot-spots where plumes of magma burst through the crust like a blowtorch. This northward movement is confirmed by the fact that the oldest volcanic rocks lie to the north and the youngest to the south. Those in Mt Nebo in Queensland, for example, are about 32 million years old while those at Mt Gambier are between 1400 and 4700 years old. 

During the late Mezozoic and early Cenozoic eras (about 15 million years ago), parts of eastern Oz were uplifted between 600-3000 metres. Bounded by faults and folds, this area includes The Blue Mountains. Extensive erosion of the Eastern Highlands has exposed huge granite intrusions including Mt Kosciuszko, Mt Buffalo and the granite chain from Armidale to Tenterfield.

Many areas of the Eastern Highlands are separated from the Lowlands by escarpments. Numerous short rivers rise and flow from the highlands ending in large bays. These bays were formed when sea levels rose at the end of the last ice age flooding valleys in the southeast.

The land was still evolving ..... as man arrived just a mere 60,000 years ago.  

Friday, March 20, 2009

REMEMBER WEEKENDS?

For some, the land of the long weekend was always a myth
Antartic scientists, cops, bartenders, airport staff, nurses, farmers ..
power station operators, bus drivers even diligent burglars
they carried on working while the rest of us didn't
Around 4 pm on Fridays, we said "TGIF" and we were gone ...
to our families, the pub, the surf, dancing or the races
many of us to debauch ourselves on Saturday or Sunday
and if we were crook later, we'd chuck a sickie on Monday

Good times. What happened? When did weekends cease to be?
Oh! It's there on your IPhone or blueberry or raspberry or whatever
but once upon a time the country stopped and had a rest
factory stacks ceased belching sulphur dioxide or particulates
buses, trucks and cars took their commuters home to rest, too
shops shut, cities and towns emptied of human activity
we went home, closed the gate and the front door
and took up residence in our backyards or our gardens
or lazed by the pool or enjoyed a barbie with family or mates
we might venture out in the world to visit relos or friends 
have a picnic in the park or the beach or do nothing and read papers

"Time Off" as we called it before it became "Leisure Time"
it didn't require us to spend money to entertain or distract ourselves
market forces unleashed in 1983 (ironically by a Labor Government)
decreed that these two "do-nothing days" was extravagant ...
it dragged down productivity and wasted our precious time
so time had to be allocated, specifically measured
after all, everyone needs leisure time or they get burned out
but like the classic thing edge of the wedge ... why stop there?
why the arbitrary predetermined couple of days of loafing?
"flexibility" was the new wankword and it was on for young and old
technologies busted old rigidities, time and space collapsed
we could no longer afford to take time off ... for everything changed
and industrial relations became as casual as sexual relations

The more we increased out productivity (longer hours at work)
the less time for buying the basics like food for sustenance ...
so we added shop assistants to the list of "must work anytime" people
shopping mania (therapy mingled with unlimited shopping)
not satisfied with Saturday, we wanted and got Sunday but ..
where would we eat and entertain ourselves while we were shopping ?

Soon dead hearts of cities teemed with life seven days a week
we liked it so much that when the sharp developers came to town
we went back to town ... to live in fancy "inner-city apartments"
back to the concrete and steel boxes for we loved ...
the idea of never stopping, never sleeping, never having to wait ...
for a single bloody thing

Are we poorer for it" Nah, not materially of course
we are wealthier than we've ever been or so we're told
do you miss the weekend? Even if you remember it?
that still, quiet long suspended moment that stretched away 
from Saturday to Monday morning .... when the alarm went off
and we would throw ourselves back into the fray once more
refreshed and rejuvenated

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

THE TEACUP AND THE STORM

There was a disproportionate and huge hooha
about the oil spill on the beach at Marcoola
in people's minds it seemed a big disaster
fiction overwhelmed fact, rumours ran thicker and faster
people over-reacting, a malaise of the times
extravagant statements made about compulsory fines
greenies, tour operators, resort manager all crying out
the loss of lucre was what the fuss was about
a mother even left her kids in the car, A/C and engine going ....
purportedly to save a turtle from the tarry tide incoming
locals who claimed residence vied for time on the media
professing shock and loss during the time they'd (supposedly) been here
the Opposition shamelessly exploited the sticky situation
blaming the Government for its lack of planning and action
State, Federal and Local bodies after some initial obfuscation
devised and implemented a plan that worked to perfection
but what of the facts of this teacup that created such a storm?
let the truth inconvenience a story? Nah, that's not today's norm
the commercials must have their breathless six o'clock pap
rubber-neckers need their 15 minute fix, the silly saps
the flora and fauna suffered hideously ... I hear you ask?
nothing untoward had occurred as the men went about their task
three days on and this beach looks clean, crisp and pristine
hard to believe that an 'oil spill' contrived such a scene
everyone's onto something else, the media's long gone
the dogs are barking but the caravan moves on .....

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

EXPERTS

The appallingly bad TV program "Bringing up baby" on the ABC
made me want to bring up before I reached for the gripe water
I've always thought that parents were the best experts
that they would know what to do and that's what they oughter ...
There's 926 books available of parenting and child care
and that doesn't include the DVDs and magazines
compared with diet (79) and weight loss (33) in print
there's a lack of confidence in Aussie women it seems ...
Are modern women, used to controlling their working lives
incapable of following their instincts when having a baby
for instead of it being a normal, natural part of life
it's something to fear perhaps or an upheaval maybe?
Instead of listening to our own and others mothers
we go into 'information overload' mode from the junk media
focus-groups, mothercare, pre-natal consultations and the like
"No breast-feeding for you, babe, the formula's gonna feedya" ...
Truby King of Spock, problem is today's parents are paralysed by fear
they can't read the cues or know whether to respond to baby or not
because they themselves can't differ between their own wants and needs
they can't tell if their child needs the bot or a pat on the bot
Many women today have smothered their instincts in long careers
years childless, 'investing in themselves', absorbed in their own patters
only to find out when they do have children much later on ..
it's not what they do but who they are that really matters
And, the increasing number of social ills that tempt us while 'careering'
crass consumerism, credit-fuelled hedonism, alcohol and drugs
make us neglect our family and lose the strong links of their support
makes it difficult to ask Grandma for a break from bubs ...
With children coming late in life, grandmothers are almost too old
to advise and help and do the grandmotherly things we used to know
in the future it may be a distinct possibility .....
there just won't be grandies alive to see them grow
Once upon a time we didn't have gender-neutral parents you know
we had mothers and fathers, not infant management techniques
but kids today are subject to bizarre social experiments ...
same-sex, serial step-parents, father-figures and other tragiques
Men and women complement each other in the parenting stakes
but it's the guiding instinct of the mother who does the mothering
having children earlier with a loving man willing to adjust and learn
makes for infinitely much better mothering and satisfying fathering

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

THIS (CONTRADICTORY) WBL

I arrived in '69 to a country without obvious contradictions
it was white, Christian, western, a ubiquitous accent, a common language
culturally distinct but ambivalent about involvement in foreign conflicts 
but nearly a decade into the 21st century and the contradictions are many
almost as many as the antipodean myths and legends ....

Aussies, perceived as hedonists work the longest hours in the western world
(but 1.8 million and rapidly increasing are on three types of pensions)
the outback is venerated yet it's the most urbanised country on the planet
it's a 'no-worries' country with the third-highest rate of suicide in the OECD 
one in five citizens suffer depression-type illnesses
it's proud of its egalitarianism, champions the underdog and the 'fair go' ...
which is sometimes not extended to its aboriginals or new arrivals
it's a fun, sun, warm and larrikin-type place and a zealous bureaucracy
with three tiers of government that attest to the latter

A coastal skirt of cities tethered at the waist by a land-locked capital
increasingly patriotic with no native-born head of state or distinctive flag
even its leader confound the contemporary Aussie image
imbibers vs teetotalers, agnosts vs the religious, socialists vs tories
our modern heroes are sportspeople whose achievements are ephemeral
our real heroes are Cowan, Reibey, Helpmann, Dawe, Hart, Florey, Fleming
(scientists, researchers, dancers, painters, explorers, medicos, teachers)
lodestones for our enduring reputation as a fair society in this world
'The 'Lucky Country' has now two meaning for it suits those ....
who want to either criticise the country or praise it

Contrast the character on parade at 'king cricket', the summer sport
and the changes in the game to cater for the purist or the yobbo
Aussies perceived as 'win-at-all-costs' sledgers playing with beachballs
both to be punctured by generous, appreciative crowds and fun-denying cops

The Opera House, a landmark vying with provincialism and internationalism
a coming of age and ambition vs petty-mindedness and cultural cringe
even our nation has been a tug-of-war, States rights over the Commonwealth
witness the bun-fight over water rights in the Murray-Darling or an ETS
yet this nation, its people has solved many a problem for the planet, its people

The Governments of Oz promote Oz Day as a day to have fun with others
I'm uneasy that they are going to make it compulsory for us citizens to ....
wear the flag and not wave it
assimilated (just about), I'm happy to accede to the authorities wishes
I promise to treat my fun with the utmost seriousness from now on
in this WBL of drought, flooding rains, sun-baked plains and .... contradictions


 

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

WHEN WE MET

It was winter in '74 when we met
a time in my life I won't easily forget
a juxtaposition of "Hot August Night" and Sydney winter chills
training for that bloody City to Surf up Vaucluse hills
when we met ...

I asked you out, slipped a note under your door
at your flat in Australia St on the second floor
it wasn't my invitation you found inviting
what you liked, you said, was my writing
when we met ...

We went to a party at Ronnie's in celebration
of having accepted his dare to run the city to surf excruciation
known popularly as a 'fun-run' in those days
which I completed, surprised and in an exhausted haze
when we met ....

Attracted to each other like flames attract moths
our love intense, we pulled out all the stops
life had blossomed, ennuii vanished like morning mist
you left me bereft of my senses and emotionally pissed
when we met ....

We never did marry but we've got two beaut kids
(your culinary skills has us peeking under bubbling lids)
you paint, create from stone,wood and clay and write like ... God
with your playground sense of justice you won't take odds
you're dealing with good people and imposters and treating them alike
with your firm, fair determination and flair I admire and like
since a few decades or so or more ago ..
when we met





Wednesday, February 11, 2009

ASK WHAT YOU CAN DO FOR YOUR COUNTRY

Increasing our dependancy on Government to solve our every problem by fiat or blatant pork-barrel decreases our worth as individuals. It's time to consider the largesse that flows from a government - however sincere its motive -  spending its way out of trouble. Today's manna could be tomorrow's albatross. For the many of us who subscribe to the "I was born in a shoe-box and worked my way up to where I am today .... " giving away money so that people can spend it on gee-gaws like TVs is outrageous.

Irony piled on outrage is that we are about to incur more debt as a  nation to see us through this catastrophic and monumental mess which was caused by debt incurred over the past decade by the greedy or naive individual. More ironic is that the previous Coalition government spent that very decade paying off government debt of around $96billion. Our current government is about to borrow nearly half of that sum which could shackle us in debt for an indeterminate time. This fiscal albatross may be an unbearable burden on the future of our kids and theirs, if we, an ageing nation with a shrinking tax base with huge medical expenditures forecast for those of us living to be octogenarians or nonagenarians, spend this vast sum unwisely today.

Now, we'll jostle one another as we line up for a sum of money that we would have scoffed at a scant year ago when the 'good times were rolling'. We'll count the ways we would spend this munificent sum with nary a thought of who will pay for this in longer term. But the good times have rolled haven't they?

From the individual to the corporation, we'll all get in for our cheap cut of this largesse. The pensioner to the chief executive, the low income earner to the well-heeled, the needy and the greedy. After all it's our money right? It's our 'common-wealth' okay? It's where the government garners the money from in the first place .. yes, from us taxpayers both individual or corporation neither of us being co-operative when it comes to taxes.

We moan and whinge about paying taxes and wail about them being wasted on aboriginals or whales or derros or druggies or public housing or external territories or foreign aid or single-mothers or power stations. 

We'll never complain when we are the recipients of the handout whether we earn 40 grand or 120 grand. We'll self-righteously and unctuously declare that we need the money to pay our debts or our bills or feed and clothe ourselves and yes .... buy TVs. But simply put we will rarely admit that our lifestyles have exceeded our commonwealth.

Will we think of what our contribution could be to helping our nation cope with this mess together? Will a Coalition government have done things differently, tightened its fiscal belt and spent money more cautiously on capital works for example that benefits the whole community in the long-term?

Capitalist systems revolve in cycles. Good times follow bad and vice versa. I suggest now is the time for building the nation in preparation for exploiting the good times that must follow.

For now, let's look after the absolutely needy only. Apply a means-test to every needy individual or ailing company and provide assistance if it's genuinely proved to be the case. Meanwhile, let's concentrate on the projects that will reinforce our future. Capital Works programs will provide employment and more vocational and tertiary education will create a wider and deeper pool of theoretically educated people who can apply the practical advantage when the good times return.

Assure more Aussies of jobs. Buy Aussie goods and services (more butter, less guns) and demand more staff where you shop or bank or fly or purchase petrol or holiday. Reduce your consumption of gee-gaws or comestibles that are wants instead of needs. Buy fair dinkum Aussie fruit that's in season instead of the imported or canned stuff. If you like a feed of prawns, purchase the Karumba variety instead of the foreign Vannamei kind. Drink water supplied by your local council (the most stringently assured quality in the world) and eschew the stuff in plastic bottles of dubious origin. Forget holidays in Bali ... too may drunks, druggies and dangers. Discover your own country and do yourself and Australia a favour for this is a safe place, stable and you can drink and behave disgracefully and party to oblivion if that's your thing and yes .... the natives are friendly and speak your lingo.

Don't let your lifestyle exceed your wealth (and your health).

Ask what you can do for your country.
 

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

HALLELUJAH, I JUST LOVE HIM SO

Strewth! I'll be ty-dyed and hornswoggled
that beaut little tacker Ty has (finally) made his debut
a simultaneous exit and entry into this WBL
to show us what he's like and to take in the view ....

His Mum and Dad are more pleased than Punch
at 3.5 kilos he's a handy little bundle of joy
will he be a poet or a dancer, a devil or a clown
inherit his Great Grand-dads curls? But for now, he's a herald of joy

I've two gee-kiddies to be a gee-diddy to now
when I see 'em I'll sing out 'Lo Ro' or 'Hi Ty'
there'll be the odd tussle or four between 'em
but I'm betting they'll be good mates by and by

when I held him my heart galloped like a Melbourne Cup finale
my senses reeled, love overwhelmed me like a tsunami
Ty ... me kangaroo down, sport ... that's euphoria writ bold
I've gotta suck on a lemon to stop grinning about this baby

A couple of days young and already he's under my skin
I'll look forward to seeing him at Forrie in a little while
we'll toast him with a glass or three of of good Aussie wine
and while drinking in this little Ty(ke) we'll smile 'n smile 'n smile ...

Monday, February 9, 2009

DRESS REHEARSAL

And when I die
don't leave me supine, even in renewable timber
occupying space supplied by some overweening undertaker
at the price of an arm and a leg
after all I'm dead, deceased, carked it, brown bread, finis
only my corporeal remains remain

The grim reaper has reaped what was sown years before
and its dust to dusty ashes
for me a fire, a pyre but ... I don't want to add to the hole in the ozone layer
that inexplicably, intractably occurs in this hemisphere
when the majority of the culprits (us humans) who sully and defoliate
live in the other half of the planet

But for me, eschew the fancy trappings, the mock gilt
the blandishments of the unctuous funeral person
funereal by mien and insincere visage dissembling
the cortege, the dirge, to inter me with a knell
the obsequies appropriate (and pecuniary) to the dead.

Don't weaken or bother yourself on my account
for when I'm in a terminal state of narcolepsy
it's unlikely that I will attempt a Lazarus
to judge the parsimony or opulence exercised by you at my demise

In the shucking of my mortal coil, remember my proclivity ....
for the odd glass of wine or seven
and have a decent wake to remind you of me
and quote the lines of that prescient poet in my memory .... 
"Sound , sound the trumpet, fill the fife
throughout the earthly world proclaim
one crowded hour of glorious life
is worth an age without a name"

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

A TALE OF TWO CTs

My anxiety increased as I drove to Brisbane that morn
how do you gauge a doctor's concern?
when he's inscrutable in mien, clinical in character
my thoughts raced as my car did on my way to Brissie

There ... I gulped down two litres of vile green liquid
and dumped the third litre on an unsuspecting plant
undressed and put on  silly gown nine sizes too large
with the ties located back-to-front
entered the chamber outwardly serene and nonchalant
(observed the Japanese origin of the machine, marvelling at their ubiquity and ingenuity)

A disembodied voice instructed me to lie quiet, supine
lights flashing, sibilantly purring, the machine prowled around its casing
taking, I assumed, sectional views of my body
as I moved back and forth on a traversing pallet

The machine roamed north and south, pubis to gullet
then, a twenty minute respite and more vile liquid
busting for a pee but ensconced and palletised
more lights, buzzes, movement, instructions and ... it was over
left feeling anti-climactic (like a creek without a paddle) 

I sat down in the waiting area and improved my knowledge of celebrity
waiting to collect the prints, which I did, 9 magazines later 
good pictures I thought but what do they mean?
had a captain cook at the doctors report
medical mumbo-jumbo, wasn't much I could glean

Back home to Taabinga and an interrogation by Pauline
"read the quacks report and you'll know more than me maybe" said I
and till the next round of tests, the verdicts out ...
meanwhile let's enjoy ourselves as a family

Sunday, February 1, 2009

ME

How many have I known ....
who could look but not see
who could touch but not feel
who could speak but not communicate
who could hear but not heed
who could sense but not know 
Of ...
my hopes for the future
my fears for my country
my dreams for my children
my ambitions for myself
in ...
a country free of repression
a country abundant with food
a country generous of spirit and compassion
at...
a time when age doesn't count
a time where experience is rewarded
when ...
my worth as a human is not measured as a resource

Saturday, January 31, 2009

SEEING RED, TURNING GREEN

It was hard yakka labouring for Labor
for thirty years or more
handing out how-to-votes and erecting signs
since Bass Hill for Paul Keating all those years ago
Determined to see the party govern
after arriving in Queensland in 1976
embroiled in the pangs of labor
booth captain at Capalaba, learning new tricks
But the cabals, apparatchiks and factions
dimmed the light in our soul
for Labor in government in '89 was ...
stolid, near-neanderthal but never bold
The party machine ha's and hum's
'Popular Pete' is all the cry
but like the bush and its diminishing returns
Labor is surely drinking it's well-spring of popularity dry
But there's the rub ..... does anyone care?
they're seduced by the games at the big-end of town
busy hacking out positions from the body-politic
for temporary gain while bringing Labor down
IT'S TIME ... to move on with family and friends
into the fold of a different scene
for years we'd believed in the light on the hill but now
I'm blue, I'm seeing red so I'm turning green

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

THE FIRST B L

I've seen the family photos of the first BL
a mystery man from history that photos just can't tell
my grandma was his widow, my father was his son
the stories about him ... he sounds like a son-of-a-gun

Some of them apocryphal about how he made his pile
legendary tales abound, none committed to pen or file
memories of the man recount how he rose and fell
like trying to hold on to mercury ... that's the first BL

They say he was mercurial like that Roman God
eloquent, a newshound,,he wasn't strange or odd
a horticultural man, he made his mark upon the land
and enterprising contrarian, a man considered grand

We're told he loved his whisky, a cigar and his cards
enjoyed a game and a bet with his card-playing pards
high up in the cupola, having meals dumb-waitered to them
in the White House he'd built where he'd moved from the Log Cabin

Now, I've heard the occasional story from Dad, the second BL
I sensed a reserve between them but for sure I couldn't tell
like the sun and the moon, had they been locked into a pugilist's dance?
or were they both in harmony? ... in apposition and concordance?

My brothers and I have this legacy from both of those BLs
gardening is my thing, ditto for Dave and John as well
Rog is showing some promise with salads, herbs and other plantings
my sisters ... 'nuff said ... to them growing things are like alien landings

Mortality beckons me as I ruminate about that first BL
Nannan and he broke down barriers, told 'em all to go to hell
Pauline says I'm my fathers son, growing old like the second BL
I'd like to think I'm much like them but I didn't know the first BL

Monday, January 26, 2009

HOW MUCH CAN AN URSINE BEAR?

We know there are big 'uns and small 'uns
in the ursine department of the family named bear 
the most feared, the grizzly, inhabits North America
while black and brown bears are found elsewhere
Now the polar bear, the largest of 'em all, lives in Alaska
where there's no shortage of fishy substances
but lately, they've been faced by some serious problems
a rootin', tootin', shootin' woman named Palin f'rinstances
Bears get grumpy when out fishing for din-dins
they get discombobulated, like you and I, if the fishing's lousy
they dine out on the salmon run which they rely on to get fat
for hibernating when the weather gets blustery and blousy
While this may be food for thought for us humans
(perhaps fish oil may be a cure for the obese)
the PBs and GBs face a dearth of these protein-rich fish
thanks to salmon farms that also breed lice, fatal to these ....
Wild salmon swimming past of their way to spawn
in the upper reaches of Alaska's roaring, unruly rivers
which that hoary old scapegoat, global warming is yet to disrupt
where the cycle of nature revolves and every species shivers
The future's grim for the GB sans those piscatorial goodies
it's a bear market that's looking increasingly bare and barren
bears need to eat 170,000 kjs a day to prepare for winter
while us humans eat almost 12,500 kjs in the same time span
Spare a thought for the bears as we graze on food, fast or slow
(a Big Mac contains about 2010 kjs .. we'd have to eat 90 a day!)
let's shoot Palin or consume less of all the other species
leave the fish to the ursines, let 'em do it natures way

 

Sunday, January 25, 2009

THE LAST MUSIC FESTIVAL AT TAABINGA

Like the last rose of summer
this astounding happening is about to fade
for lovers of fine music past and present
its musical bon mots and aural delicacies are overlaid ....
gems over the years from traditional music chamber music
to romantic music dramatic and beautiful
or humourous baroque to palm court supreme
glorious music by superb musicians in an atmosphere full
of music lovers and folk like ...  me
who couldn't fathom the sounds that first Taabinga year 
violins, sweet in the morning
voices, wonderful and pure to my neophyte ear

Unaware of the glory that was to be unleashed
I said to Pauline "there's something happening next door
a piano being walked over by virtuoso fingers
cellos and flutes and clarinets and more ...."
Curious, we went along to this first concert in the barn
to be transported to nirvana in the South Burnett
Mozart, Beethoven, Verdi, Dvorak, Telemann, Biber, Koehne
Gershwin and the Beatles ... new dimensions in a wider net
Interpreted by some of the country's finest musicians
singers and instrumentalists of international acclaim
in our backyard at Taabinga, plying their magic 
fine music has always been the festival's name

The finale has arrived as it inevitably must
'Don Giovanni' or 'Porgy and Bess' will be heard no more
time may dim the floating voices among the eucalypts
while memories evoke moments of an ongoing magical flow

HIGH FLIGHT by John Gillespie Magee Jnr

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth 
and danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings
sunwards I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth 
of sunsplit clouds and done a hundred things
you have not dreamed of .... 
wheeled and soared and swung
high in the sunlit silence hovering there
I've chased the shouting wind along and flung
my eager craft through footless halls of air
Up, up  the long delirious burning blue
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
where never lark or even eagle flew
and while ........
with silent lifting mind I've trod
the high, untrespassed sanctity of space 
put our my hand and touched the face ... of God 

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

OYSTERS AND PEARLS

Some people love to lead and some refuse to dance
some play it safe and others take a chance
some work too hard and end up with backache
some attract trouble and cause me heartbreak
some make too much money and wind up lazy
their kids become indolent and drive others crazy
some try sex and drugs or music that rolls or rocks
others find religion or do things with books or socks
some watch their watches and it makes them hurry
some wait and ponder and fret and worry
some smoke too much they could die of cancer
others find that cocaine isn't the answer
some carry chips that bruise their shoulder
others find  too many birthdays make them older
some never fade away while others crash and burn
some make the world go round, others watch it turn
some travel far and wide and never get lost
others stay home , never count their blessings ... just the cost
some boys become men with an obsession for girls
many of them oysters, few become pearls
most mothers see their sons as capable of giving life a burl
I've got it from the highest authority, my Mother (of pearl)

THE INCIDENT

Taking a fall is as easy 
as falling off a log
which I did the morning after the Melbourne Cup Day
astride that huge tree trunk
legs curlicued to hold me firm
I swung hard at that stubborn bolt, missed and got thrown away ....

The sledge took me down
a rapid descent, surprised I was falling
no doubt though about my welcome to hard earth
no wonder its called terra firma
it was solid and unyielding and dry
it hurt as it must have hurt my mother giving me birth

Ray made a grab for me
and got my hat as it left my head
but I was gone sans parachute on a short base-jump
"Winded" is a polite term for this brutal landing
hyper-ventilating, trying to get some air into every crevice 
aching, distressed ...Oh Joy! my heart started to pump

Bycycled my legs, glad to feel them move
arms followed suit on command from my brain
I could nod my head, I knew I wasn't in too much strife
the fall of about nine feet isn't much
reality suspends, its like an out-of-body experience
until the jolt that awakens you or doesn't ... that's life

Sunday, January 18, 2009

THE GLOW

Dawn brought its warm light early
cast a red glow everywhere
the hovering mist on  the creek tinged pink
and the house's white walls softly red and bare

The field's have an intense colour and radiance
like a light without a flame 
suffusing us with an aura of warmth
on a cold Taabinga morn where every morn is not the same

even the birds are curiously quiet
while the cattle are on the move
soft reds turning to translucent pink
and life is about to slip into its daily groove

It's grand to sit here and gaze 
at a scene that's constantly changing
subtle differences to tone and colour 
and it happens every morning ... isn't it amazing?

FINALE by JUDITH WRIGHT

The cruellest thing they did
was to send home his teeth from the hospital
what could she do with those
arriving as they did days after the funeral?

Wrapped them in one of his clean handkerchiefs
she's laundered and taken down
all she could do was cradle them in her hands
they looked so strange, alone ...

Utterly jawless in a constant smile 
not in the least like his ... she could cry no more
at midnight she took heart and aim and threw
them out of the kitchen door

It rocketed out that finally-parted smile
into the gully? the scrub? the neighbour's land?
and she went back and fell into stupid sleep
knowing him dead at least and by her hand

Friday, January 16, 2009

AFTER THE BOOZING

The age of the new drunkard, boozers who drink to excess
the premature rich imitating vacuous celebrity
binge-drinkers with smart-arse comments on t-shirts like ....
"Instant Dickhead: just add alcohol" ...shit for brains 
to be nurtured for the future
to be forgiven for their trespasses, time and again
indulged to the hilt by parents with or without guilt
re-inventing words like  "cewl" while spewing out their guts
in binges of alcohol that fuel inchoate rages 
beating to a pulp the bloke who accidentally bumped into you 
or who you imagined had a go at your sheila
the ubiquitous phone camera recording the drunken act 
of a young couple coupling on a lawn at a backyard party
or a broken glass rammed into an unsuspecting face
for the most petty reason
alcohol is like a friend but an insidious one
we welcome it into our homes to imbibe it with ...
relief or glee or release or a sense that we deserve it for our labours
but, we don't know how it will behave when it's in us
it can improve or destroy our relationships sexually
make conversation stimulating or horrible
it's our companion at births, marriages and deaths
haunts every increment between love and lust
confidence and cowardice, reason and mindlessness
"There's a whole lot of truth in an empty bottle" .....
Boozing has always been a part of our culture since white settlement
barter or payment in rum was the go then
while there's nothing positive that extolls alcohol
perhaps we can encourage moderation .. by the carrot and stick
and beat this scourge that makes the young paralytic
who, as they grow older, only perpetuate the horrible cycle among their progeny
that results in the wired jaw, the broken teeth, the bloody face
together we can change this egregious part of our psyche together ... and we can 

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

NEW ENGLAND IN SUMMER

The rolling downs of New England have seldom looked more glorious
to my memory the last time it was so verdant was 1997
I can't say what the district looks like south of Armidale
I'd hazard it's as healthy .... a farmers idea of Heaven
There are so many bodies of water, ensconced in twinkling dams
I can't recall from many years travel along the New England highway
from the Warwick Plains to the Granite Belt and beyond
grasses thick and green, trap the wind and sway
And, cattle grazing, udders replete with the milk of kindness ...
of the variety that builds a nation and its people's health
It's a sweet stirring sight for anyone with an inkling 
of struggle with droughts and creating a commonwealth
The pipeline of towns that comprise the Fruit Belt
from Dalveen to Applethorpe to Wallangarra on the border
are resplendent in new clothes of painted fruit barns and wineries
attractive and beckoning to tourist and traveller
Tenterfield and Glen Innes looked invigorated on a day that was serene
(I thought for a moment that the Guyra meat works were killing and alive) 
Armidale was riotous in agapanthus, daisy, rose and dahlia
and a warm welcome from Des to end this country drive

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

IT'S A PLACE WHERE PARADISE AND TAXES COLLIDE

A place, idyllic, sundrenched where white folk in search of a tan would pay a motza to holiday at if they could find the accommodation?
A place where The Prophets birthday is accorded a day-off but the Queen's isn't?
A place with low crime rates and high school attendance?
A place where religion imposes a ban on serving pork products even to non-muslims?
A place where mosques, neat houses and paved streets nestle among coconut palms, pristine beaches and turquoise waters? 
A place where you can get cheap housing at $2500 a year for a 40 year lease and expenses?
A place where expectant mothers and a carer can fly free to the mainland and get free accommodation for up to 40 days due to unspecified "cultural requirements"?
A place where Australian taxes subsidise each citizen for up to $42,000?
A place where toilets are not trashed, alcohol-fuelled violence is non-existent and families take care of the elderly?
A place where locals move around in motorised buggies rather than walk?
A place where the women wear a hijab instead of flowers in their hair and the men dress in shirts and long trousers instead of singlets and shorts like they used to?
A place where English is the second language?
A place where muslims and non-muslims live apart on two islands separated by a lagoon but in terms of values are worlds apart?
A place where fewer than 30% of the locals over the age of 15 have full-time employment?
A place where the local community is becoming more orthodox in its faith due to exposure to the outside world via modern communication? 
A place where Islamic and Western worlds meet face to face?

Aaaaaahhhh!!!! The Cocos Islands, our unsinkable aircraft carrier in the Indian Ocean, a place for limited fun and frolic provided you dress appropriately and seek permission from the muslim community to do just about .... anything. 
It's a bit of hike to get there but well worth it once you do .... according to the locals who knew they were on to a good thing when they opted to become Australian citizens in 1984. After all, they've been there for nigh on two centuries when they arrived as .... well, not quite tourists, more like slaves to labour mightily for the masters of the island, the Clunies-Ross mob from Scotland, who to be fair, also laboured mightily but were better rewarded for their entrepreneurship.
Now, we own it and them (not to put too fine a point on it) and we must pay for the privilege. We have successfully spawned our own far-flung dependency but this one differs from our other external territories in that it is totally dependent on us for ...... everything.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

THE PAST IS ANOTHER PLACE ALRIGHT

I arrived in Oz in the penultimate year of the sixties
at a time when man was exploring our galaxy, landing on the moon
a time when people were physically involved in their world
where virtual reality was unreal or unheard of
but the past is another place ....
This was a time when Australians were still Australians
rather than merely Americans 
who happen to have been born on the wrong side of the Pacific
and therefore have all their faults without any of their virtues
but the past is another place ....
It was a time for truth rather than ephemisms
before our vocabulary was hijacked by the artistry of wank-words
and acronyms spewed forth from mouths in vile bureaucratese
which defeated the purpose of the message being delivered to the people
it was a time when people spoke civilly to each other
acknowledged and respected one another as the young did then
but the past is another place ....
on your birthday or at Christmas you received a few treasured gifts
and when 12 years of schooling finally ended you didn't do 'schoolies'
instead you looked forward to finding a job or university
and saved like mad for a car or for an overseas holiday
lived at home until you earned enough dough to get a place of your own
or shared a place with others like-minded, enjoying your individuality
but the past is another place ....
A celebration meant something then, now we even 'celebrate' death
everything's 'win-win', even the 7 year old who came last gets an award
what are we celebrating? Mediocrity? Self-centredness?
today tenants have more rights than landlords who provided them a place to live
but that's "cewl"as the young would vacuously exclaim today
middle-class welfare? Hell, you were on the dole or on compo if you couldn't work
we were more of an egalitarian society then
there was a small rich class and the rest of us packed a work ethic in our lunchbox ...
when we set off for work 
but the past is another place ...
Give the financial lenders their due then, you got bugger-all credit
and only after the most stringent checks that tested your capacity to pay
you didn't spend more than you earned, a simple rule of thumb
simple basic tenets that paid dividends in life, much later
But the past is another place ....
Now current generations despise us, envy us and cry 'you had it easy'
without taking the mote or three out of their eyes
instead of perhaps thanking us for our foresight, our caution, our prescience
unequivocally, I declare that I do not hanker for it
but the past is another place and they do things differently there

Sunday, January 4, 2009

THE LOW COST OF HYDROGEN

Now we know that Jesus turned water into wine
because it says so in the Bible
what about turning water into hydrogen
by harnessing the powers tidal?
up in the Kimberleys where giant tides
pour vast floods of water through cliff-banked channels
whose horizontal waterfalls tantalise lateral thinkers
of boundless clean, renewable energy without parallels
hydrogen's allure has no carbon emissions when burned
its only by-products are heat and water
and, that it could end the worlds reliance on oil
would have a greenie willing to sacrifice a son or daughter
you use tidal power to make electricity
which is used to split water into hydrogen and oxygen
you can take as much as you need today ... for tomorrow
it re-appears with the tide just like 'the magic pudding'
we need to start today to make it tomorrows reality
by 2030 my annual petrol bill could cost more than my home
while we humans argue about fossil fuels versus alternatives
in languid indifference ... the giant tides daily flow and foam 

Saturday, January 3, 2009

THE BOARDROOM BLUNDERER

They've got the world on a string and in a mess
these non-executive directors of Australia's boardroom club
some them legendary for buggering-up good firms
in sinecures or through cronyism ... I kid you not, bub

The most unworthy of 'em all, Elizabeth Nosworthy
has sent three big, greedy non-performers to the wall
while getting shit-loads of lucre in directors fees and shares
under her stewardship, she 'directed' 'em to their fall

In an electoral rort that would make Robert Mugabe blush
she and her ilk are returned to boards with 90% of the vote
SallyAnne, Anthony, Mansfield, McGauchie, Ward, Dixon, Hegarty
Gorves, Stockdale. Eddington, Fell .. the share-holder's the goat

These unscrupulous Teflon people who keep getting invited back
have "strategies" that preside over joblessness and a declining nation
depart long before the results of their handiwork is apparent
to pop again in positions of power ad causing no consternation

This "Dishonour Roll" of immoral shits continues to take us all for a ride
they've no problems sleeping at night or snouting in troughs by day
it's nice work if you can get it (if that's what it's called)
while you and I will continue to pay and pay and pay and pay .....


Thursday, January 1, 2009

LIFE'S IRONIES

Isn't it one of life's supreme ironies
that the people who are paid the most
and endowed with the perks of the job
are the one's required to expend the least?
Directors, Chief Execs, Presidents, Chairmen
very few of them altruists in truth
many obscenely remunerated or in sinecures
courtesy of the old school tie, a club or by birth
And what of those paid the least?
truckies, nurses, check-out people, scientists
teachers, garbage-men, car assemblers all working Dickensian hours
no lurks, perks, tax-write downs .. there's the twist
Ford's wage-earners can't have a $20 rise but ...
The head sharang Jacques Nasser is forced to take a $19 million salary
shelf-stackers, bus drivers, petrol station hands get bugger-all
while Mr Eck at Coles get's a $4 million bonus as the top canary
There must be a moral to all this irony
share-holders, apparently, have lost the plot 
or so the talking-heads, grifters, suits or carpet-strollers would have us believe
their copy-books have absolutely no blot
In our ignorance we condone or help perpetuate
a system iniquitous and blatantly unfair
for there aren't too many of us with our snouts in the trough
why, even the pigs are flying .. they've left in despair