The sea, the sea
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Tag Archives: Photography
Brown Falcon revisited #02
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Digital Parking Meters
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The Australian Darter
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Tricks
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The Violent sky
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My poetry
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Half an hour
Half an hour
one forty eighth of each day
should be consistently allocated to the following practice
should be consistently adhered to at the expense of all other things
the undertaking of regular exercise
no matter what your age
this is a good use of your time
such that the time that is left to you
may well be longer
Secret
Can you keep a secret?
I wonder if you can?
You mustn't laugh!
You mustn't cry,
but do the best you can!
In_Forests_#01
Winter chills
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A White-plumed honeyeater
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Collins & Spring
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One step …..
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Power Politics Abuse
In a world where unprotected justice is just another manipulative tool
those who believe in blind justice look increasingly like naive fools
where chaos replaces transparency with the purpose of obscuring truth
evidence based learning falls from aspiration, to work fragmented and moot
when lies are an accepted part of political discussion for misuse
the power lies with those who societal values they readily abuse
if public denigration of dissent is a routine weapon of discourse
then know ye that they will come for you too by threat as well as force
if wealth and appearance are the only currency around
the majority may well end up in position genuflecting from the ground
if deceit tricks and hacks are permitted to taint the heart of democracy
then notional democracy becomes yet another self defeating fallacy
and the corrupt, malign and unread will rule over every land
empowered by the inevitable sycophants and their militarised bully bands
The poetics prompt for we dVerse poets https://dversepoets.com/2025/08/12/dverse-poetics-tuesday-power/ comes from the deep thinking Lisa this week. It is topical, omnipresent and scary – as it has been throughout history. Is it worse today than in past eras? I am not sure I can make an absolute statement about that. However, with the likes of social media and AI now available as part of the dissembling and propaganda mix I suspect it is to become so.
I cannot resist a more personal comment about two principled men from Australia’s political history who I believe represented the antithesis to the forms of abuse of power described in my poem above. Two men whose democratic modelling, and leading of social justice and cultural reforms could be learned from by many leadership figures engaged in the power plays of today. My father Race Mathews with his friend, colleague & mentor Prime Minister Gough Whitlam.
Waiting for the 2.42
Waiting for the 2.42
nothing much else to do
so we cuddle and kiss
oblivious
to the sensibilities of the other pair
sitting there
Waterhole
Water water
in that hole
I see water in that hole
been so dry a heavy toll
now I see water in a hole
drinking drinking
drinking up
I keep drinking hands a cupped
all that water it’s going down
I keep drinking though it’s brown
walking staggering
just how far
to another waterhole reservoir
the door of hope is now ajar
waterholes be my repertoire
heat and sun
pounding down
no further waterhole to be found
in the lee of boulders I go to ground
to die in shade without a sound
Summer’s end
Buildings of Melbourne
Winton swamplands
Sulphur-crested Cockatoos in silhouette
Cockatoos walk the walk
they are smart and bold
they talk the talk
human or squawk
they are social and caring
for others in the flock
they live for decades
100 years they can clock
Bogie autumn
It has been a long, harsh, hot summer. Softening autumn light is finally here. Hopefully, consistently cooler weather is to follow soon.
Cycle of life
I wonder if I will ever get back on my bikes
free to ride wherever I like
living with arthritis is a constant pain
I do hope I get to ride again
luckily I can write to fill my time
put some cycling photography into rhyme
All work is my own and subject to copyright. I do not permit AI to use my work.
sea talk
Talk to me about the sea
of sand drift and sea breeze murmurings
of tidal sliding and wavelets gliding
onto a peaceful shore
of curling surf and whale songs
of towering waves and sailor’s graves
of a blow driven chop hard to cross
and the constant desire for more
of rock pool eddies of a wind unsteady
of sudden squalls and risking all
of unpredictable storms defying norms
of salty landless freedom
of reflected moonlight and sunsets bright
of dolphins playing and albatross staying
of cutting the water and catching fish
of life in Neptune’s kingdom
of thunderheads piled high or a cloudless sky
of seabirds arriving splashing and diving
of phosphorescent wake so easy to take
of distant horizons all around
tell me tales about the briny sea
how to travel a weather filled journey
crossing oceans wide upon the tide
and I’ll take you where I’m bound
Night hunting
Hooting to acknowledge
others hunting there
camouflaging plumage
prey beware
soundless flight
beak and claws to tear
night vision adept
anywhere
hooting acknowledges
others hunting there
dancing with abandon
a nightclub lair
drinking jugs of alcohol
teeth are bared
faux charm awooing
without care
De Jackson from dVerse asked we poets to post a Quadrille (44 word poem) using any form of the word “hoot”.
poetography.ink 