Captivating and unexpected

Heading in opposite directions,

I saw her across the intersection.

The lights changed,

we both stepped into the street.

My eyes instantly locked onto her attractive pale oval face.

As she came closer our eyes met fleetingly.

She was captivating and unexpected.

After that first time I saw her

she became a recurring

dream.

 

And yet, we had not exchanged a word.

It was the light in her eyes that concentrated my attention.

They sparkled with mischief, fun, delight and  joy of life.

They were irresistible.

I intuitively knew they were telling it true.

Despite never knowing it before,

I knew Immediately I had been looking for those eyes forever,

looking for the person behind them all my life.

And there they were,

passing me on the road,

disappearing as fast as they appeared,

part of a human wave heading home from work,

also irresistible.

 

I have heard people say the first thing they fell in love with

were their partner’s eyes.

Well, these were those eyes.

They spoke to me directly, urgently.

of being together,

telling me there was more I must learn here,

all the things I needed to know for the right future

were behind those rich brown eyes

with the big dark pupils of evening.

Just those two deep pools of enticement alone were enough.

They called on me to throw caution to the wind,

to surrender myself to the yearning,

to give up everything for her

 

And I would have right there and then too

had not we been separated

at the very same instant we didn’t meet.

Moved by the pressed bodies of a dense compacted throng

going one way and the other,

as we passed I turned trying find her,

earnestly scanning the back of

as many sombre grey hats, coats and heads as I could,

engaged in a process of rapid fire elimination

until I caught my foot on the curb and stumbled.

I looked again.

She was gone.

 

Every following evening I waited at that corner.

Enveloped in my own dark winter proof cladding.

Examining the crowds.

Scrutinising every office worker heading home to dinner.

Muffled and reserved.

I sought that same light, that one bright spark, that point of difference

in the fast fading dusk of shortening days.

My own hope fading

as each short day felt longer and lonelier.

 

It was on the same day of the next week

she reappeared.

A Thursday.

How could no one else be alert to her quiet warm aura,

gently glowing against a background of gloomy evensong,

the trudging of homeward bound feet.

I fell for her.

I mean literally.

I was so preoccupied with not losing sight of her

I darted across traffic and was bowled over at her feet.

She almost fell over me.

She quickly sidestepped,

bent over,

put out her hand

and pulled me up.

All in one graceful movement.

She saved me from a trampling

and alternate futures

I didn’t want to contemplate

 

We stepped out of the human tide

into a shopfront vestibule.

She asked if I was alright?

I wasn’t. I was so embarrassed

I couldn’t speak but,

she just smiled

she straightened my coat, looked

me up and down,

said “That’s better” and asked would I like a cup of tea?

Three hours later we were still at that little table for two in the Block Arcade café.

 

Those eyes told no lies.

 

After I climbed the mountain

When I climbed the mountain

to stand at its summit

and declare

my love to the world

 

I had no idea

you were preparing

to leave

down there on the flat.

To turn away from my

rugged individualism

my heroics

my boyish raffishness

 

I had no

idea it was coming,

your going.

No insight you might even

have entertained

the idea or could be

thinking that way.

I didn’t know I was that way,

in your way

 

You never told me

what it was that got

your goat.

How was I to know I had to

change to keep you

or is that?

how was I to know I could

never keep you,

no matter how

much I tried or thought

I needed too

 

When I came home

from my victory

and declaration to

the world below. I was

still walking on air.

On the cloud of

the conquering and

the anticipation of you

 

You said there was

no evidence that

was the way

I felt

and there was never

likely to be.

That I was the only

one who knew

what was going on

in my head.

You said I was

my own best company,

that I should go

back to the mountain.

Where I belonged

The Way

The way a beloved dog rests a lazy head upon your knee

The way a wooing look invites you toward mutual intimacy

The way a cup of tea slows time and calms an over active mind

The way a good book immerses you in new realities that bind

The way a word becomes a story, a poem comes of rhyme

The way a voice becomes emotion, movement becomes a mime

The way a favourite song transports you back to that special place

The way a touch can speak of love as it brushes across your face

The way a first wildflower discovered announces coming spring

The way a view from a mountain can make your heart leap and sing

The way a beautiful landscape incites gratefulness, awe and joy

The way a true love will not  waste time with you by being coy

The way a walk in the forest restores hope, balance and well being

The way a look deep into the stars can change your way of seeing

The way a composted garden grows better in space and over time

The way a perception can be a knowing, a knowing can be a sign

The way a naked body is a beautiful body as long as there is beauty inside

The way a grievous loss becomes warm memory after someone special has died

The way a child’s innocence equates with unqualified trust

The way our lives play out

Live best you can

After it’s just

Dust

Recognise me? Recognise me!

Am I really

the one you see?

Or do you superimpose

someone else

over me?

 

Someone

I will never agree

to be

 

In your expectation

I will

dutifully

bend to your will

as a vassal

bends the knee

 

That’s not really me,

part of your hegemony.

 

Just now I need you

you see.

But, my duty to you

is not my duty to me.

As I strive for self determination

and security.

The Right Lateral

My left wrist between your breasts

My left hand upon your chest

My left forearm lies across your left ribs

My left elbow beside your abdomen

My left bicep hugs your flank

My left temple on your left shoulder blade

My chest against you back

Your buttocks cushion my groin

My quads align with the back of your thighs

The front of my knees inside the back of your knees

My tibia parallel your calves

Your soles rest softly on the dorsal aspects of my feet

Your soul binds my heart

Believe in me

Believe in me, believe in me, believe in me

Said each of the the guiltless emphatically

Ministers in the State Labor Party

Said each of the blameless emphatically

Ministers in the Federal Coalition Parties

We’ll create a safe and free society

Where rule of law and democracy

Are the state of play and how it should be

Trust in us, trust in us, trust in us

To build a world of justice without the fuss

Where all are equal and none are hushed

None are corrupted by power lust

Faith and hope, faith and hope, faith and hope

To save the civilised world, give us enough rope

See us tie it in knots and we’ll see how you cope

See us twist it and turn it, make it slippery with soap

Deceit and lies, deceit and lies, deceit and lies

We’re the cream at the top of reformist deniers

We laugh as the piss weak we hang out to dry

As our robodebts and branch stacking see due process die

Watch and despair, watch and despair, watch and despair

As we bring down noble institutions without a care

As we turn our society into one where no one will share

As we promote vested interests beyond repair

Calls to and from our small corner

Our connections to the world outside

Digital threads off the Tableland

Are brittle lines

That disappear into the ether

Whispers into the virtual world

Where they really go

I don’t know

I find an number, a url, an IP address

and click

To send or receive

My message goes out to somewhere

A response comes back from somewhere

So distant, is it real, this ethereal contact?

As real as a handshake, a hug or a kiss?

Y C U?

I wonder what it is I see you for

When all I crave is to see you more

There’s your smell I can’t resist

My melting heart after we’ve kissed

Your fingertip pressure upon my spine

Body electric your touch divine

The texture of your warm soft skin

The brush and rush of lovemaking

The way you walk and swing your hips

The way you talk with precious lips

Your voice a sound of sweetest measure

The sound of true love‘s spoken pleasure

The way you think and make me wonder

You shake my world, views torn asunder

And when you challenge it stirs in me

New hope and ways that I can see

 

Your hair holds aloft a thorny crown

You turn the wind right way around

Your shoulders strong they carry me

Arms embrace me meaningfully

Our limbs entwined our hearts on fire

Together, inspired, alight, desire

When your nose nuzzles my neck

I feel the comfort of a future set

The deep, dark pools behind your eyes

They drive me to resist good byes

I love to love you in every way

I need to see you every day

These are the reasons

Y I C U

Dreaming of Salt Water

Having just finished the complete series of inspirational Aubrey / Maturin historical novels I am left to reflect, had I read them as a boy I may well have run away to sea.

The sea the sea the rolling sea
Is all that I adore
Let me let me be upon the sea
Mother dear, I implore
Beside stern lantern’s fading light
I’ll wave to fading shore
To sail away year and day
And learn the ocean lore
A seaman right and able I’ll be
A landsman never more

“Whroo” by Vonnie Deering

Vonnie sent me this lovely poem after seeing my recent post about Whroo Historic Area. It has been a favourite site for her and husband Graham over the years. I can see why. I have Vonnie’s permission to reproduce it here.

This place is littered with broken brick,

discarded bits of crockery,

signs that once this was a home

to those who dug for gold.

They have been gone a long time now –

gone with the spoils of their sojourn –

leaving the bush, now done with,

to its thoughts.

 

Neglected fruit trees struggle to survive,

the wells are dry and mine shafts filled

with rubbish and with rubble;

peppercorns droop,

their pale pink seed pods dangle,

their spicy scent hangs in the warming morning;

tired pines lean into afternoon

with limbs like old bones, twisted.

 

Absence has brought wildflowers to

the graves within the little cemetery –

bindweed and finger flowers are bright

against the dusty ground;

the headstones slump and mutely spell out

lives in gaining spent.

 

The ironbarks have staked their claim;

the native cherry and the wattle stand

amongst the straggling Chinese scrub;

mounds of mullock have grassed over and

the hard earth, spread with scats,

is rich again with golden everlastings.

 

Choughs in dozens protest at approach;

loudly, harshly they insist

this place of strange abandoned beauty

is their territory.

Their hands

Their hands when they touch

Flow from rolling of wrists

Each touch is a signal

Each touch is a kiss

 

Their fingers are folding

On whispers and secrets

Cupped hands are holding

All ahead that will be

 

Their fingers trace circles

On their palms telling futures

Tender are the touches

Of their hands as their tutors

 

Their hands rest together

One on top of the other

Their hands mark their measure

Their harmonious hands

 

Their hands spread out

Open and true

Telling each story

Each soul on view

 

Hands hold each heart

Supporting each core

Their hands do the learning

Of what more to adore

 

The extension of hands

The parallel lines

Pads of sensitive fingers

Their dreaming defines

 

There are fists and shaking

There are dips and rise

There are quivering fingers

Before flickering eyes

 

When hands arc with arms

To gracious embrace

The lovers say nothing

As hands touch each face

 

Delicate lines are drawn

Across soft skinned cheeks

Then with touches to lips

Mouths start to seek

 

Two seeing hands

guide the blind

Sensuous and caressing they massage

Four hands synchronise

to breathe in kind

Entwined

in waves of love

The Smoke Filled Sky (a lament for my country)

Testament to our past misdeeds

Confirmation of future trends

For victims, my heart bleeds

No politics justify these ends

 

The smoke filled sky blocks light and hope

Destruction and death follow

How will our burning country cope?

What hope is there for tomorrow?

 

Immediate danger on fire grounds

A fire season now six months long

Environmental disaster all around

We need more than just “stay strong!”

 

Adopt the fire advice “watch and act”

For this escalating climate emergency

Because if a nation ablaze isn’t enough fact

Our destiny is to burn again too blind to see

 

 

The Gift

They met before the air, when the air was to be sky

An aged lifetime dreamer met a genuinely considerate guy

Who met an elderly woman, with a strong desire to fly

He gave up first class to her, she gave a pleased and grateful sigh

 

Violet, eighty-eight, could afford an economy ticket

Jack had first class for his whole family to wing it

Both were going London to New York in early December

She with no flight priors, this special first to remember

 

He knew this from chatting to her in the airport lounge

This was her first overseas flight, to her daughter bound

She told of her grief at the family departure and long absence

And her last chance to see their new American residence

 

Jack told his wife of Violet’s anticipation, joy and excitement

He wanted to add more to what this flight already meant

He gave up his seat berthed next to his own family

That she could travel verily to her family comfortably

 

And the stewards said it felt lovely, it was the sweetest thing

To take her photo up front while in first class she winged

An image for her daughter to see, who may not have believed

And for Jack as a memento of the pleasure given and received

 

For it wasn’t just the ticket, the seat or the price

It was the face of human kindness that was so wonderfully nice

Everyone who observed was touched by his gesture

Everyone was reminded what in a person should be measured

Seeking out what is good is the measure to be treasured

Good on you Jack

Rosella Highway

I love to sit by Rosella Highway

IMG_4329.jpgWhen a crimson flash drives my way

A dip, a rise, a lateral meander

Arcing right to pass our verandah

Cutting the corner, just by my head

Blurred red into blue the colours bled

A wind that brushes across my cheek

As the rushing parrots charge by to seek

Fields of grain, seed and fruit

Forests of buds and flowers to loot

 

Friends and family travel in flocks

Adults school juveniles in hard knocks

That clearly dictate the pecking order

While traversing landscapes without border

Their 3D byways criss cross the land

Enhanced and encumbered by rise of man

They flit up to perch on the highest limb

They dive deep to drop to waters brim

 

I watch with envy this life of pleasure

By which I set my life to measure

Views of the world I’ll never see

From high above and in canopy

 

Agile aerialist sky bourne of air

Fortunate bird without a care

Deodands and Pennies

Give deodands and pennies for eyes

Slake the thirst and feast who dies

Then turn to home, to humble pies

Beget, begone, say your goodbyes

 

In forgiveness, honour, deposit the dead

Who in pious mercy, give up their dread

As the vehicle of loss to heaven we send

That god receives to make amends

Falling in love

There were two of us

We were young

We didn’t really know each other

Just of each other

Through others

But somehow we knew we were for each other

At some point it became clear

And then it became necessary to test it

And then it became essential

And the knowing was certain

Intuitive

Two became one

 

It wasn’t part of any plan

To fall in love

I guess that is why it is called falling

You find yourself tumbling head over heels

an uncontrolled free-fall

Preoccupied, whimsical, looking forward to next time.

Wanting next time to never end

 

Smiling when you are alone

Smiling when together

Just smiling in general

I’m smiling now

On your bike (alternate title The Secret of Health and Happiness)

img_2377.jpg

I’m sitting on my bike feeling like an athlete

Pumping on the pedals pushing hard with two feet

Think I’m 21, not true but it would be so sweet

Trying to stretch my body to a 60+ life cheat

 

The wheels below me spin going nowhere above the concrete floor

The resistance trainer squeals getting hotter at its core

Parrots on the outside watch me through the open door

As I sweat and puff and grip to gain a minute more

 

I took the vow on January 1 a New Years resolution

To plan a longer fuller life a Seaniverse solution

Write a recipe to follow to my end of days  conclusion

For what it’s worth I thought I’d share it take or leave my proposition

 

Health and happiness can be elusive when ageing as I am

Failing mind and body are inevitable and then bam

You die a death one way or another no way to stop it man

So get there smart, sharing and active as best you can

 

You can’t be everything to everybody but you can share with a few

You can’t extend beyond your limits but there may be limits you never knew

You can be concerned about the future or plan for it ahead

It may not work the way you planned but that’s an opportunity instead

 

So here’s the recipe for trying it’s not really all that hard

It’s based on good and bad experience, read from lots of greeting cards

Exercise mind and body, I run walk ride read and write

Consciously enjoy the present, there’s no point worrying through the night

Appreciate the world around you mindfully it’s the only way that’s right

Action your ideas, you’ll feel sharp and crisp and bright

Socialise with others in ways appropriate for each

Permit allow enjoy, calm rest and sleep makes life a beach

 

A considered “Yes” is the right answer almost every time

Follow these simple rules to be secure and feeling fine

It’s EEAASSY

  • Exercise mind & body
  • Enjoy the present
  • Appreciate
  • Action your ideas
  • Socialise
  • Sleep
  • Yes – is the right answer most of the time

 

I do appreciate for some it is not so easy, health of mind and body are fragile things, security can be a fragile thing. My best wishes to you all. I hope, possibly, maybe something above can be of assistance somewhere, sometime.

The point of human living

The awareness that comes to us via consciousness and the tool of language suggests to many of us there is a point to our existence

However, there is no rational justification for this view

In a very complicated way

Human existence simply happened

It has no intrinsic need of purpose or explanation

It is our egos that ask for that

It is the same for all of us

Human existence manifests as human living

Neither has any point to it

No enduring purpose other than as a fact to be accepted,

Or, possibly as an exclusive point in its own right

As an optimist, I choose the second version of what is essentially the same thing

Although I am unsure what this implies regarding longevity

As it still suggests much is futile

Because the longer each of us lives the more we understand human nature

Consequent behaviours replay across history for better and worse

Same dreams, hopes, ambitions

Same responses, actions, strategies

Same reactionary outcomes that trend toward destruction

To the extent, we often ask why bother?

Well, I guess we might as well

So, “Does it matter?” becomes redundant

Even if meaning could be universally applied

Lack of comprehension regarding our beginning and knowledge of the inevitable end render meaning meaningless

There can be no result, no understanding to be gleaned, no purpose

So where is the point of human living?

In the scheme of things (that doesn’t exist) it doesn’t matter whether you live or not,

But at least you get to choose

You either might as well or not

I choose to live for the transient pleasure of it, the observation, the feeling of it, the moments of joy, the acknowledgement that consciousness came to be and will come to pass, the participation, the experience of love, for being here now – if you like that set of clichés

However, the future is a place of little significance to me other than to say I would hope for my family and coming generations to also have the necessary security to enable them to share the ephemeral opportunity to appreciate being

Such a curious legacy of hope begot from my love

Dreamland

Ah, my chimeric and fanciful place

A world to inhabit when I displace

Where food is abundant and water is clear

Where choices are free I’ll ne’er shed a tear

Where sharing is normal no money spent

Home is a shelter without mortgage or rent

Ideas are born to be actioned for pleasure

Actions observed for outcomes or leisure

Thinking is respected intellectual pursuit

Everyone loves and all follow suit

Where judging is absent because no one judges

Where grudges are absent because no one grudges

Where religion only follows the Gaia led path

To planetary health such joy makes me laugh

My friends are my friends conflict unknown

We simply marvel at how friendship keeps growing

You know where I’m going with this (short version)

SPOKEN2019

This weekend I organised the second annual “Strathbogie has SPOKEN” event. We had 22 presenters and an audience of 50-60. This number pretty well filled our small, and acoustically delightful venue, St Andrew’s Church in Main Street. It was a seamless and fascinatingly diverse set of orations that made the two hours fly by. I kicked things off with a shortened version of the political piece below, which I wrote last year. It felt good to give written work air!

 

you know where I’m going with this

 

to the crush of high density and population growth

my oath

you and me both

with the new city millions that come

to the bustle and hum

to the high tensile strums

of the energy guns

at our heads

pay the bills or family fed?

that is the question we dread

as executive bonuses build mansions and poseurs

as the export of gas ups the home prices real fast

and don’t talk to me about electricity duplicity

so mean to me

these corporate utilities

fat cats

and multinats

squeeze me til I’m dry

then have another try

so my life is a scythe

cut the stress with a knife

kiss goodbye to the wife

and the kids and the love that I loved

for love’s sake

it’s a home bake

 

you know where I’m going with this

 

to parliament house

the joint of no nouse

of no brain

of no gain

where celebrity reigns

where the state of the nation equates with fashion

our political ration gets smaller and smaller

as narcissism, self-interest and recidivism ism their way to the fore

we want more

no!

they want more

no yore

just more

for the future is now a cash cow to be milked at the fence

of public expense

as the full and the fat suck at the teat

for the treat

of squeezed taxpayers sweet forming rivers of milk

and honey

 

or is it money?

pouring forth from a new scam

that’s rude

derived from ineptitude

it may be batts

it may be courses

they may be entrepreneurs

but they’re on the horses

bolted

after the gates have closed

 

you know where I’m going with this

 

to the US beholden

superpower

olden

folding the flag

turning for home

in the gloaming of their watch

withdrawing notch by notch

uncertain where the crotch of the matter lies

or whether their power even applies

exerting pressure as trade plies

but no so sure regarding human rights

and the rise

of the stateless states

the unreliable mates

the dates that became rapes

where the bright promising spring

quickly winged

to a cold dark winter

on the sling of David

and the Saudi flings

the belated failings

where democracy no longer sings

 

you know where I’m going with this

 

away from paradise lost

from the costs

from the Fausts

from the oppressive hosts

from the submerging coasts

to the ghosts of the past

rewritten to last

where my heart listens for hope in the sparks of principles sublime

not bereft

but to the time I have left in the cleft between life and death

in hope of nurture

in the sweet natural wealth of transparency ….. before stealth

 

you know

you know

you know where I’m going with this