Old Sydney Town

Built from nothing but botany and earth

A harbour fore, deliverance be true.

Now the best there is, anywhere on earth

Harks of a persona harking back to you.

 

My family come from Melbourne, don’t you know?

The only one born and bred in town!

When we moved south I had no say at all –

A two-year old, in back seat, bears a frown.

 

On our return, my smile fast appeared –

Ahhh, the wattle, the humidity and sand.

A blow-up pool in our backyard of cheer

Was where you would find me and my fans.

 

As years past, Sydney grew to adulthood –

A child that had, now, come of age.

A life of love, forgiveness – yes, I could

Be that man standing on the players’ stage.

 

I sat there on the House’s stairs, watching them drink –

Vodka looked like water to the naked eye,

Donating funds for those left on the brink –

I fixed my eyes on the harbour’s night-time sky.

 

I looked from my balcony at night

And saw fireworks – New Year’s still far away –

A picture perfect backyard scene of light

That drew me nearer Southern Cross each day.

 

Old Sydney Town, I love you with my heart –

My family belong there with the Bridge.

I may move north for a brand new start

But you stay with me – in hindsight, you are it.

 

I missed you every day I was away,

Frustrated at decisiveness to move.

My mother brought me to your world to stay

And trickling water fountains would disprove

 

That Old Sydney Town left slow-coaches behind

Only one speed here – fast or you were dead

But your city’s splendour, elsewhere I couldn’t find –

Secluded beaches ‘round the foreshore’s sand I tread.

 

Under the Bridge I lay, gazing in her eyes

My hand pressed to her palm as we embraced.

Where else is there a park beneath constructed site?

Yet my main attraction was her suntanned face.

 

The caterpillar and the crane – far away

And the dust gave blue sky a dirty hue.

Please keep the beaches open – don’t betray

The places, splendid, we can all walk to.

 

Old Sydney Town, I love you now you’re grown

And the waning winter weather waits the sun.

Raise your head with pride at amalgamation’s show –

Out of many we live life as one.

Night-time

Night-time wouldn’t show itself

Until Sunshine moved away

Like a road-way that disappears in flood

Like a child who will stray

 

Night-time hid away God knows where

Like a sock hides in a shoe

Not wanting to come out and play

Like when I played hide and seek with you

 

The pages turned as Sunshine faded

Sunset became the star

New chapter aglow, best time of day

People came from near and far

 

To hear and see the sweetness, cheer

Sunset brought to all

Listening for the climax

That would entice, enthrall

 

Sunset’s colours made the day

Surely to behold

Night-time felt alone, left out

Dark, upset, anxious, lonely, old.

Poem – My bird

The bird seemed to follow my roving eye
As he walked beyond where I lie
He seemed to know, with eye I spy - 
Sitting there that day.

He never seemed to have a care
No matter for how long I stared
Or how controlling was my glare
He was there, it seemed, to stay

He gave out a little chirp
Like page from a book, like an excerpt
Like a song performed at a concert
He flapped from chair to chair

He was regal in nature, and replete
He'd had a little bit to eat
He walked with ease, with those clawed feet
As I got the camera out

I realised the camera was obsolete
My phone would do better, would always beat
The phone's quality, the camera couldn't meet
Of that I had no doubt

The bird stood atop the chair, to reflect
I told him; 'stay there, don't neglect'
Attention sent, ne'er deflect
To bird sitting on the floor

The bird, he turned, to his right
Knowing the bird on the floor was within sight
He waved his wings, as if in flight
Before he moved away

Yet how was I to know he was a 'he'
He could as well have been a 'she'
So long as it was either 'he' or 'she'
'He' must be one or be the other 

Is this a poem or a diatribe?
For until now I've not described
What he (or she [or it]) looks like
And how it came to be...

I happened to be sitting in the rain
Under cover, (heat was hot), the day the same
Noiselessly the day begane
And then continued on...

As bird arrived, with clawed feet
'Hello', it seemed to say, 'we meet,'
Though nothing was said when we greet
We merely doffed our 'hats'

Black and white, with long neck
His eyes, no matter - oh, what the heck!
I still don't know, not now, not yet
Perhaps I never will

But somehow this bird seemed a friend
The way he'd look and turn his head
It's hard explaining, even when
I knew he wouldn't stay

He looked at me, right in the eye
Turned his head from left to right
Never went out of my sight
Well, not now at least, 
Not yet

Looking me right in the eye
Makes me wonder; 'Heavens, why?'
I didn't push, I didn't pry
To find the colour of his eyes
That day when we met

No matter whether rain or shine
With me laying, sitting, there, he's fine
Never once did he whinge or whine
We talked 'bout little things

'Bout the simple things in life
Weather, health, things of that type
Simple things bring pleasure, like
Bring happiness and fun

He's my bird, I hope you see
Black and white, he sat with me
Not away on some pine tree
But close to where I lay

My bird finally flew away
I said; 'bird, I'll see you another day
Even if I'm far away - 
I'll know just where you are.'

I returned and saw you 'round the bend
Beaked, clawed, winged, my feathered friend
We greeted, like only we 
Could comprehend - Our story - 

Close the book...

The end.

The Wind

Listen to the Wind, it tells a story

Pain brings Suffering, invites Loss

A story of road-way under water

Homes misplaced, Pain embossed

 

Listen to the Wind, it tells a story

Rain brings Flood in times of Drought

Extremities of sunburnt land

Time thine enemy, Time brings Doubt

 

Listen to the Wind, it tells a story

Cars on road become boats on stream

Arm reaches out for things heartfelt

Material things left, worth unseen

 

Listen to the Wind, it tells a story

Communion at hand in times of toil

Strangers, together, salt of the earth

A weathered earth, salt of the soil

 

Listen to the Wind, it tells a story

Silent whisper waiting gust to come

Like the calm before the storm

Like the sun before tsunami’s thunder

 

I share extremes of drought and storm

Tragedy cares not for whom it choose

One day I’ll be fighting Flood or Fire

Next, tragic intimacy, shared with you.

 

Be there no time for absolution

No time left to halt and savour

Plentiful spirit, communal sort

‘Tis the spirit of your neighbour.

Poem – One

Walking by the road-way, desolate

Eyes darting, back and forward

The light I saw came from the drawer

I’d opened once before

The tree, the breeze, the leaves, the glow

Knew each other, before any knew of me

The leaves, the breeze, and other trees

Joined their circle, welcomed in for free

To ever-last, the shoulder, past

The arm, out-stretched, to reach

The tree that sprung from life that lasts

Ne’er to fail or to breach

The rules to meet, the guidelines set

To join the party held by tree

And breeze and leaves and glow –

The trickle becomes a stream, a flow

Into which you welcome me

Horizon seen in distance

Rainbow before setting sun

After rain, colors remain

Red, blue, green, yellow

Become one.

Poem – ever-rising…

The cicadas, crickets, break the quiet

Along the beach-head, dalliance sown.

I look up at the rocky outcrop, by the beach –

Metropolis, beyond, nature’s own.

 

The stillness of the night rings true

At dawn, before movement of day.

Holding warm hand, eyes look through,

Hoping against hope to stray, away.

 

I sit and think and feel and breathe,

Nature over-takes the busy stream –

The rustle of the leaves that fall

Greets cicadas and the breeze.

 

The wind, the breeze, brings nature’s own,

The bird from window sill follows land –

Hand still warm, we walk along,

Barefoot in the gracious sand.

 

The sand disappears as high tide comes

A sign of other world, passing by –

The roadway far away, yet close to home –

Overhead is noise of those that fly.

 

How long can nature, sand, cicada, bird

Protect me from what day must bring?

Will eyes and hands of warmth defeat

What awaits me? Prey, to God, I sing.

 

A song of sweet, melodic tone –

Angels look down, protect me from

Goodness, last in line to prey –

Confess sins, the soulless, they belong.

 

The streets now full of who knows what,

Anonymity a strain.

Holding hand, I walk, one step, more,

Anonymity a drain.

 

Sand is wet, water rushes feet –

Cool breeze, yet warm in little worn –

Feeling shoulder, bare, arm wrapped around –

A smile greeted by another, born.

 

One wonders if she’ll follow me

Or walk beside, this fateful day –

Distance ignorant of others, near,

Our world dissolves, noise betrays.

 

Concrete near yet far away

Buildings reach to sky as cold light shines.

Furrowed brow on those with tie,

Lapping water, at feet, mine.

 

Mine and those of lover, she,

Be greater than world where we reside.

My heart will not be still this day,

Be it low or ever-rising tide.

Poem – After the Fall

Once I was in the womb

Before I made it to the tomb

What went between it matters not

Cherished memories, now forgot

 

Maitre’d to those with plenty

Entree served before main course

Do we get to partake at all

Or just bus and wait on you and yours

 

Transcendental or eternal

With alterations, grass is greener

Grass dies with season ending

Altered, dead, or just pretending

 

The fence makes another’s life look sweet

Fence impales sight

As I reach the fence, other’s life turns sour

Reality bites, pang of guilt felt – quite

 

Ill wind brings chill, cold light of day

Riches of another won’t go away

Pleasure lost, regret in tow

Envy present of friend and foe

 

Path hindered to resolution

Satisfaction’s path be true

To satisfy, life’s conundrum

Regret away, walk on through

 

Consider bird, or tree, or well-bound book

Duty, strain of thought, be gone

Pragmatic not Deterministic

Smile, if present, only wan

 

Well-bound book or bumble-bee

Man-handled or nature’s own

Rejoice on Satisfaction’s path

Regret be gone, enjoyment grown

 

Stow away on path to plenty

Plenty reached after the Fall

Satisfaction now on board

Cherished memories, now recalled.

 

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