Be kind to the one that you love
Love isn’t a problem to solve
Love is human unique
With no room for pique
To give and receive
To hold and believe
Be kind to the one that you love
Be kind to the one that you love
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Category Archives: Poetry
If it wasn’t
If it wasn’t for your touching me
I wouldn’t know what touch could be
If it wasn’t for your sweet embrace
I would never have looked into your face
If it wasn’t for your sparkling eyes
I wouldn’t have seen just where love lies
If it wasn’t for your soft whispering
I wouldn’t know my heart could sing
If it wasn’t for your soft warm kiss
I would never have known what I missed
If it wasn’t for you warmth at night
I wouldn’t know what two just might
If it wasn’t for your body bare
I wouldn’t have loved you everywhere
If it wasn’t for your faith in me
I wouldn’t know how far to see
If it wasn’t for you my own true love
I wouldn’t know to rise above
I hold this all so close to me
I use it all to keep me free
So I’m the one I want to be
The one who loves. You eternally.
Birdlife
Birds sit in the top of the trees
Planning attacks on insects and bees
They sit on their branches
Scanning insect sky dances
With shelter from leaves as their eaves
Birds on the end of a bough
Twitter loudly just to show how
They can talk to each other
Every sister and brother
In a way that says Hey, we know how!
Birds that forage on the ground
A set who are basically unsound
They defy law and order
Like lambs to the slaughter
Because predators are always around
Birds that drink from a dish
Do so in order to wish
For more handouts of bread
To keep them well fed
As their tails twitch and go swish
Birds that peck at a window
Are very much likely to forgo
Food on their plate
Appetite they may sate
Fighting themselves as a foe
Birds that fly in the sky
Look down and say my oh my
All the people down there
At whom we can stare
Choose to be grounded why oh why
Birds that float on the water
Think it’s the place where they oughta
Because the land is not safe
From trouble and strife
The water is a more secure quarter
Birds who love to eat worms
Queue to take it in turns
At freshly tossed compost
Of breaking down humus
Knowing a worm never learns
Two meals a day
Time for dinner
Well, we all knew what that meant
Time for the end of the day
Time to send friends on their way
Time to come in from outside
Time to come out from your room
Time to stop homework
Time to put down that book
Time to race to the bathroom
Time to tuck in that shirt
And brush your hair
Time to scrub those hands
Polish that face
Ready for inspection
Time to transform from
Rough and ready rascal
To be seen and not heard
Time to never be late
Time to take your designated
Place at the table quietly
With bowed head
Time to await your plate
Time to scan the newspaper
Standing tall in thick fingered hairy hands
At the other end of the table
Only the front and back pages ever viewed
While mum dutifully served
And offspring mutely ate
An unchallenged meal
Of meat and three veg
Tinned fruit
and milk for the weeds
She spoken to but never heard
They spoke at and ever erred
Sitting in silence always unnerved
Once fed desperate for dismissal
Before something went wrong
Before the security of bed
Where the anticipation of morning
And a new day unhindered
Would see a smiling chatty woman serve
And happily scold misdemeanours
In a bustling kitchen full of life
Breaking our bread
While the breadwinner toiled away
At that unhappy and mysterious place called work
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?
Tomato
I love the tang of a tomato
As it tickles the taste buds on my tongue
There’s nothing quite like the tingle
As the juice begins to run
The pop of the first bite
The explosive gush of taste
When I eat a tomato
Not one bit do I waste
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
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
When 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
BogArts Bridge to Bridge Ephemeral Natural Materials Sculpture Walk Installations Gallery
Gallery
This gallery contains 88 photos.
Originally posted on Strathbogie Ranges – Nature View:
With over 80 sculptures on display, ranging from the size of an egg to 2.5 metres high, there was plenty to see.
BogArts Bridge to Bridge Ephemeral Natural Materials Sculpture Walk
Gallery
This gallery contains 10 photos.
Originally posted on Strathbogie Ranges – Nature View:
As part of the Strathbogie Arts Festival by BogArts, many artists contributed to an Ephemeral Sculpture Walk along the Bridge to Bridge walking track. The challenge was to construct works from degradable…
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)
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
