It is so hot I can barely stand it they say this is the future come early I can’t stand the idea of the future coming early how is that possible? surely the future has to come when it is due and not before in its own good time if you will but the future has come early and I am so fucking hot I feel like I am cooking I feel like everything I touch is either a hot plate or cooking on one I feel like the sweat I am dripping is not sweat it is boiling water and I want to scold the future for coming early because I don’t know what that means but here it is in the present and there is no relief from it
I want to get a big soaking brush and watercolour the sun from the sky I want to replace it with pile upon pile of towering thick grey cumulonimbus heavy with precipitation weighty blackening the sky and ready to dump I just want it to rain big fat wet drops that land with a splat and each single drop soaks everything it hits rain so thick if you try to run away from it you just get wetter and wetter it simply hits you harder and reaches deeper into your soul I so want to run in that rain
all I think about is getting away from this fiery dry heat by getting all soaking wet cooling until I shiver to my core with cold relief to a place where I can confront the profound desolation this false future brings the rain will put the future back in its place take its toll on this deceitful future of scorching isolation divergent from its proper path giving me a new wet future where I can cool off for a while where I can relax and think about other things
I would lap up the true future the moist green rain dominated future it’s not like I don’t want any heat it should just be intermittent again, when and where it is meant to be I want us to all have a right future properly in its place making it easy to breathe without fire in your lungs wet enough to have us splashing wildly outside free from fear rejoicing in the joy of life and secure in what is to come I want everyone to dance with me in the rain shake off this febrile oppression and share my love in the rain
Let’s go for a picnic and a swim at Polly McQuinn’s we’ll pack a basket of food and some cold drinks I’ll get the picnic rug and the Esky we can spread out on this long hot lazy afternoon under the tall peppermints and swamp gums by the cool soothing brown water of the swimming hole we can lounge in the shade all day if we want too maybe you will want to take some sun in your bathers for a spell before a refreshing plunge into that oasis below the weir I’ll watch you, admire and love you the whole while I’ll reflect on where we are going and where we have been I will even venture in for a swim with you because this moment in this water will change everything when I meet you in the slow eddies embrace you forehead to forehead nose to nose shoulder to shoulder chest to chest hip to hip our legs gently treading water together rotating us blissfully so full of each other we could burst I will tell you I want to marry you I will ask you to marry me and I will softly kiss the earthy water from your lips until I hear your reply
Sunrise and the clouds are silver, gold, pink or the brightest of whites they promise new beginnings and I believe them I say goodbye to the night and the day is full of all that might be
sun fringed clouds speak of good fortune and hope when I raise my eyes to see them things start looking up silver linings
dark clouds rising are mysterious and foreboding what danger is imminent? how will it affect me? I become watchful
ah, today black clouds shadow my father's angry face it’s time to make myself scarce there is no doubt about the turbulence ahead for mother and me it’s time to flee the storm to come
I am grateful the clouds have lifted from our little home the windows and doors are open fresh air has once again surged through and purged too
my little window looks to the sky there are omens in the various shapes passing by I watch them, they guide me to more thoughts of what is to come by and by
Xanthorea gathering in Heathcote-Graytown National Park
It's good to see ya Xanthorea gathering in the forest your handsome forms and spiky hair well combed to keep you modest your food laden tail of unrivalled scale flags you as altruist unprejudiced your coming together in all kinds of weather shows how best to coexist
your invisible feet step slow and repeat toward timely arrival for greetings and meetings you are never late with your shuffling gait your committee nothing short of enchanting it leaves room aplenty for your language of rhyme to talk things through and determine what is true resolving prime issues one at a time until everything works out absolutely conclusively perfectly fine
Here jewell like beads of water hang from grassy stems the crystal clear worlds inside each reflect a world less clear on the outside shiny bright surfaces glisten and sparkle with the captured light of morning
here in perfect symmetry each luminous pearl is delicately balanced suspended flawless and oblivious of the future pulled by gravity against the surface tension of a liquid sphere each represents one of millions or billions across this mist dusted field
here a landscape is bejewelled a scene elemental as the water of which it is composed rich as every jewel that composes it here natural beauty on a tiny scale is the very essence of pleasure en masse
Curse of our ever accelerating time leach of the time once yours and mine funnelling us to places we don’t want to be presenting us with things we don’t want to see corporate instructions with manipulative intent designed to create outrage reinforcement and vent secretive grabs pull our clicks and attention urging us to resist when facts are mentioned I loath the discomfort the rush to agree the social fragmentation from this wedge being driven between you and me
Follow the simple non digital instructions depicted here to put out the fire!
Poetry days #42.
All work is my own and subject to copyright. I do not use AI. I do not want AI to use my work.
can you see the griffin dance across the garage door the sun made griffin just by chance of course I wanted more more the sun would not give me and the griffin faded fast this was my very first griffin alas I expect my last
Photography days #33.
All work is my own and subject to copyright. I do not use AI. I do not want AI to use my work.
Mine robe is rust it’s purpose refuge oxidised shell around me protector of my heart a flutter barrier to the world a clutter
betwixt my rusty robe and me lies a sea of tranquility where mind and soul are at rest where love beats strong in swelling breast
I dwell in rust on rusty bed my pillow brown for rusty head there find me with pledge to you amongst helter skelter rust piles askew
through water deep I will walk with you with you beside your rusty guide to rusty haven secure engraven come stay with me we're safe inside
in rusty fortress under rusty sky this place to be abide with me a rusty mantle tough rust retreat that malign forces will not defeat
my trusty eye my rusty robe deflects the fierce threats of the globe the purveyors of hate the snide deprived the walking hopeless the full divide to whom protective rust has been denied
I trust in rust as I trust in you together we’ll forge our rusty due the crust of rust our rusty glue
Poetry days #41.
All work is my own and subject to copyright. I do not use AI. I do not want AI to use my work.
Boundary Hill Road, Strathbogie Tableland, Victoria.
Walking Boundary Hill Road in dappled sun from the Mannas and Blue Gums lining the run the trees are magnificent and so is the landscape when you are walking here the feeling is great
Photography days #30.
All work is my own and subject to copyright. I do not use AI. I do not want AI to use my work.
Hold those words as one beloved hold them close to your chest and let time slip step outside time as one embraced in the arms of poems that hold you in their grip be taken to that strange dimension where all is compressed and distilled into new forms of truth turned this way and that by the bent of the poet’s will reminded of who we truly are by words that by being will never lie weep laugh and gasp in that suspension of time being far from everywhere yet ever closer by
with thanks to Marcella Polain (Ed) Australian Poetry Anthology Volume 11, Foreword II, Australian Poetry Ltd. 2024
Poetry days #
All work is my own and subject to copyright. I do not use AI. I do not want AI to use my work.
Secretly we meet as separate, boy and girl but take each other’s hand for company and together in our own world forget their world which has split us, violently we tarry a while, for our regret is felt both deeply and silently
to give up our child before our prime when all we wanted was decency all we needed was more time to be a family and only to be with each other as three together instead of separate and lonely
Poetry days #34.
All work is my own and subject to copyright. I do not use AI. I do not want AI to use my work.
A vivid sun rose from the east it offered me a good day my withered body sought solace in what was promised in that way I rose to greet and meet the sun looking forward to its promise my creaking bones and stiffened joints arose with only a little grimace I followed the sun throughout the day from sunroom to verandah seeking light absorbing heat with more vigour and more candour no pain relief was necessary as the day progressed I calmly bathed in soaking sun therapy at its best I gave thanks for another day of appreciating the sun its warmth and illumination of the world was delightful to this one as sick as I may be every coming day I return to partial health as the sun rays wash themselves over me with their golden wealth and so the night too looks a little less grim as the suns light fades and the evening chill slowly settles in I wrap myself in a blanket I sip hot tea and sit by a warming fire never the sun but I take what I can get as the aches return the cramps begin I look forward to tomorrow and to the east I’ll turn my gaze hoping for a little more sun to borrow
Poetry Days #31.
All work is my own and subject to copyright. I do not use AI. I do not want AI to use my work
Fewer Koalas visit us these days, Strathbogie Tableland, Victoria.
We witness their leaving like smoke in the wind the wildlife departure impossible to rescind following First Nations people out of the bush into memory alone at an increasing rush when we came here there were many koalas just 16 years ago now their sighting is uncommon as they falter and go and the freshwater crays I haven’t seen for five years the metal blue of their backs absent - extinction fears there once was a blackfish but it also is gone from the spring creek below us it once called home and the robins are fewer where they once dominated the platypus just hanging on from being eradicated I’m sure the list is much longer but what more can one do than try to protect what is left sheltered in a zoo more people and cars, disease, cats, foxes, more stock more land cleared, less native food, climate change, ticking clock we should know better but our efforts are weak we talk local but the world must now deliver what we seek
Poetry days #30.
All work is my own and subject to copyright. I do not use AI. I do not want AI to use my work.
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