of me of we (of sunlight and grass)

the grass is singingOver the tumbled graves, about the chapel ~ the greenof todaygives the lieto dark thoughts it is me . . . it iswe who are soaffectedby these times the grasscontinues to singunder a warmsummer sunlightin the morning when I lookupon itunsuspectedlyI am caught upin the verdant colourand vibrant lifeof the thing somethinglives … Continue reading of me of we (of sunlight and grass)

buggery (really)

And crawled head downward down a blackened wall ~ there isa toilet paper shortageagain . . . nothere isn’treally it’s a shortagein people’s minds hoardersthough whytoilet paperof all thingsI can’t say and a failureof deliveries all the transport workersare sick can’t getstuffto the supermarkets can’t get tested can’t walkcan’t runcan’t fly different reasons same results … Continue reading buggery (really)

my life (back again)

And fiddled whisper music on those strings ~ let’s allget backto normal let itripso we canjustget over it go backto work backto school stop talkingabout the numbers they’re onlynumbers what I wantto get over . . . get beyond are the weasel wordsof politicianswho hold us back . . . push usforward . . . … Continue reading my life (back again)

it is personal (get over it)

Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet airFalling towersJerusalem Athens AlexandriaVienna LondonUnreal ~ it has becomeimpossible the streetsof the little townare crowdedwith the escapeesfrom other places the pestilencehas mutatedand transmogrifieditself hitched a rideand taken upresidence businesses open businesses close there is nolockdownjustself-imposedisolations so many workersunwellor waitingwhile their tests windendlesslythrough the pathology systemthat is becoming … Continue reading it is personal (get over it)

faded (the stars away)

Who are those hooded hordes swarmingOver endless plains ~ I ate the moonlast night right downto the rind then skimmeda staron fireacross the sky laterit was the starsthemselves eaten bythe eastern sky oneby oneit claimed them a wave of lightsnuffing outthe night time and yet . . . and yetthere was noviolence no celestial spillageof … Continue reading faded (the stars away)

a low song (for a dying moth)

What is that sound high in the airMurmur of maternal lamentation https://www.abc.net.au/news/2021-12-09/bogong-moth-grey-headed-flying-fox-endangered/100687642 ~ singa low songfor the bogong moth e-e-iy e singsad songsfor the bogong moth e-e-iycorroboree motherthey are deadthey are dying e-e-iy e mother they are deadtheyare dying e-e-iycorroboree motherwe aredeadandwe are dying e-e-iy eiy e we are dying no morewe will hidethe moon … Continue reading a low song (for a dying moth)

my parliamentary friend (who is a dog)

But when I look ahead up the white roadThere is always another one walking beside you ~ who are youmyparliamentaryfriend I thoughtI knew youon election daywhenso many of uspassed our judgements placing youbehind the microphoneand dais we believedyou would give thoughtto all of ouraffairsof state and make lawsto help the governanceof this land and todayyou … Continue reading my parliamentary friend (who is a dog)

a lament (with no cherries)

Who is the third who walks always beside you ~ wellI won’t be doingthe cherriesthis year or any of the other fruiteitherfor that matter the orchard belongsto my youngerbrother I never wanted itwhen we were younger I went offand got a jobwith a reliable wagein the town butI’ve always helped him outand worked for himacross … Continue reading a lament (with no cherries)

praise be (debating class)

There is not even solitude in the mountainsBut red sullen faces sneer and snarlFrom doors of mudcracked houses ~ I cannot readthe newstoday it is allpoliticianssnarling liarsliar-catchers attention-seekers angry menwho wantto make the play who wantto win the dame be lovedjust likewhen mama loved them and dad approved and teachermarked the paperwitha super gradebecause he … Continue reading praise be (debating class)

Finishing The Waste Land Project (take #1)

I feel in just a little celebratory mood at the moment. I've just finished my write-through of T.S. Eliot's The Waste Land, with the last 5 pieces written this morning. I know regular visitors to the Blog here will know, but I'll just recap what I think I've been doing and explore what might come … Continue reading Finishing The Waste Land Project (take #1)