Poetry/Australia – Page 175 – Ivor.Plumber/Poet

Time And The Sea

There’s wasted time, hours and days gone

My time, between one procedure and the next

Time to explore this healing castle

Time to chat, to eager listener’s

Time to write, about realities and dreams

Time to observe the people’s living within

Time to think about my world’s problems

Time to visualise pictures of tomorrow

I’m not a patient in his bed

I’m free standing and waiting instead

I’m a walking and talking local poet

I’m not allowed to vacate the site

They want me near, to study my plight

They want me here, to secure my bed

They need me near, to look into my mind

They need me here, so I’m easy to find

https://lyricstranslate.com/en/mi%C3%B0aftann-mid-evening.html

Mid-Evening

Now I have come home

After a journey on the deep seas.

The wave was so high,

The saltiness ate everything up.

I drowned in a black hole,

I pulled at the hand of death.

So high, it was so high,

And the moon lighted a path, yes the moon high in the sky,

And the moon lighted a path, yes the moon lighted a path.

So high, so high, wave of the sins, wave of the sins.

Odds And Ends, Christmas Cake Crumbs Everywhere

I hear whispers from afar

Echoing via the great southern star

I have my inner qualms

Amongst today’s tall palms

Do they know how the wind blows

How do they stop the spots that flow

Slow and fast

I’m living my fate

My time will have to wait

Best I not be late

I do have a willing heart

Following the light

The soul knows it’s right

We don’t have to fly too high

Before we’re soaring into the sky

I’ve got my Christmas cake

Sister’s special bake

Crumbs are everywhere

From here to Philadelphia

The Curse. Lyrics.

Agnes Obel

And the people went into their hide, they oh
From the start they didn’t know exactly why, why
Winter came and made it so all look alike, look alike
Underneath the grass would grow, aiming at the sky

It was swift, it was just, another wave of a miracle
But no one, nothing at all would go for the kill
If they called on every soul in the land, on the moon
Only then would they know a blessing in disguise

The curse ruled from the underground down by the shore
And their hope grew with a hunger to live unlike before
The curse ruled from the underground down by the shore
And their hope grew with a hunger to live unlike before

Tell me now of the very souls that look alike, look alike
Do you know the stranglehold covering their eyes?
If I call on every soul in the land, on the moon
Tell me if I’ll ever know a blessing in disguise

The curse ruled from the underground down by the shore
And their hope grew with a hunger to live unlike before
And the curse ruled from the underground down by the shore
And their hope grew with a hunger to live unlike before

Living On A Knife Edge

I’m posting this piece on “Go Dog Go Cafe” as part of there fabulous “Promote Yourself Monday” and a warm thank you to Michelle, for the invite

Fire, fire, there’s raging fires

I need help to stamp out the flames

Burning down the ancient timber bridge

The traveller’s last causeway to the edge

Spanning today’s harsh realities

Carrying life’s dreams and fantasies

Rain, rain, there’s a Noah’s flood

I need help to stall the inundating mud

Fill the sandbags with the smouldering dead bugs

Smother these smelly thoughts of soaking rugs

Filter off the qualms and doubts

Leaving doctor’s drugs and grey-matter handouts

Warning, warning, outside there’s a heatwave

I need help to see through the dusty haze

Turn off the fiery furnace tonight

Close the doors, the fireflies are alight

Open your eyes, and view the glowing sights

Beyond the smoke, and life’s future delights

A Drought Of Tears In The Sky

Last night I tossed and turned, restless in my warm bed. I was dreaming these words tumbling around in my head

A Drought Of Tears In The Sky

How many empty clouds are floating in the sky

Before all the dark linings wave goodbye

How many lakes of sorrow will run dry

Before all the shallow waters will die

How many barren rivers must we try

Before all the deepest wells smell high

My hidden wishing well has run bone dry

I’ve no more flooding tears left to cry

Under The Shady Red-gum Tree

In response to The Weekly Photo Prompt : Red << Click

My little red sparrow’s eating salad tonight

Topped with fresh red cherry tomatoes

We’re dining at Noah’s wooden window sill

Dangling our legs over the edge

Into unknown red-mud waters

Tossing chewed-up bones to Judas

My sparrow’s now chirpy and cheeky

Retelling Judas the story, what if this is, as good as it gets

The little red sparrow’s wing is slowly healing

Resting under the shady red-gum tree.

Reg Gum. The Last Frontier. Lyrics.

There’s a corrugated highway Leading north from Port Augusta
Lined with ratted cars that didn’t rate a tow
The Salt plains out of Pimba And your eyes begin to stream
On to Kingoonya huddled dusty by the road
Romantic notions shattered Like the tyres that didn’t hack it
This has got to be the country’s last frontier
Where a sports car’s next to useless Running cattle grids and river beds
We drove a van from 1963

Someone mentioned walkabout And kiss your job goodbye
Just to see the country shimmer through the windscreen
Drinking beer, telling stories While laughter filled the night
And flexi-time’s behind you like a bad dream

You got a flat on ANZAC Highway And Lawson on your shelf
Its a Southern Comfort, air-conditioned rage
Where a homestead’s more than just a cheap print Dangling from a wall

And mateship’s more than lines upon a page

We went looking for Australia In between the TV lines
‘Cause the ABC just couldn’t make it real
Colour documentary From a beanbag on the floor:
Never shows as much as it conceals

A stark and blistered Alice Springs And a river runs with shame
And you wipe the sheets of bulldust from your eyes
Another country’s uniform And the mirage it falls apart
To the open gap between the truth and lies

Climbing A Rabbit Proof Fence

Today has been one of those days

I’ve been out walking my relay

Listening to the sound of my shuffling feet

Scraping on cobblestones, of the hot city street

A tiredness overcame my body

Searching for the famous Doctor Peabody

I think I collapsed under a wall

The Great Wall Of China

The Berlin Wall

Israel’s Palestinian barricade

The Iron Curtain

Trump’s Mexican wave

Australia’s Rabbit Proof Fence

And my next door neighbour’s big brick wall

I was bulldozed by them all

In a barrel, jumping off Niagara Falls

I’m an arctic sperm whale, beached at Bondi

And the angler at a dry Buckley’s Falls pond

I’m a spawning salmon with no rapids to swim

Today’s battle I lost, on a whim

I’ve been nailed to yesterday’s, burnt out cross

I need a day of rest, to shake off the moss

There’s always a new tomorrow waiting

Yorkie will be there, patient and obeying

Walking shoes ready, at the end of my bed

A good night’s sleep, nothing more need be said

I thoroughly recommend, that you watch this haunting and moving movie, ” Rabbit Proof Fence”

Intrusion

I didn’t realise I had written so many of these sort of “life as a carer” poems, these were written years ago, when I was struggling with the process of coping…… Please do not over react, many years have gone by, I’m Ok these days. Hopefully my words may help other carers that maybe in a similar situation, and realise that they are not alone out there, with their thought and doubts

Intrusion

The process of being alive

Such an intrusion on going awry

The engagement of caring in life

Such an intrusion on living to get bye

The labour of toiling for pay

Such an intrusion on flying away

The dishonour of begging for more

Such an intrusion on failing to score

The exhaustion of continuing to care

Such an intrusion on needing to dare

The silence of the evening moon

Such an intrusion on hearing too soon

The explosion of morning sunlight

Such an intrusion on pleading for quiet

The disharmony of singing this song

Such an intrusion in sighing, so long

Beyond Sunset

The day here is very hot again, hot enough to fry an egg on my front window sill, 107’F, at midday !! I found this poem that I posted last year on February 25th, it must’ve been hot back then too. I hope you enjoy the re-run.

Gradually the dying moonlight awakened my dawn

And the baptizing sunrise watered my eyes

Drowning the working hours of my shallow day

Dampening fiery thoughts of playing in the hay

Dusk hazily shrouds my cemetery lawn

And the rituals of sunset beckon my evening plight

Flailing and falling upon sleepless night

Finally laying prone under my weighted crown

Hear The Thunder

My tired voice is crying out, “there’s no time to wait !!”

Pleading, along with the world’s impatient majority

We need to hear the thunder, of peace bells ringing

Ringing to the crescendo of peace doves singing

The chimes are loud and clear

Loud enough for the universe to hear

Even through white marble walls

You’ll hear the thunder of the peace bell’s … call

We the people, from the planet’s four corners

Are united by our textiles woven together

We’ve attached our hands firmly to the bell pull

And tugging the pull cords, the thunder of the bells shall ring

We are gathering in every backyard

Every church hall

Every city street

Every farmers paddock

Every heavenly peace dove is escaping

You will see the doves flying high above

Even through the towers of tinted glass

You’ll see the peace doves … soar

Even through their white marble walls

They’ll hear the thunder of the peace bells … call

Even through their towers of tinted glass

They’ll hear the crescendo of the peace doves … call

Hear the thunder of peace bells ringing

Hear the crescendo of peace doves singing

Rainbows In The Sky

How blue can our blue sky beam

Before the sun’s fireball burst at the seams

The day is hotter than a smith’s melting pot

During the heat did mother earth lose the plot

All her rainbows have vapourised and waved us goodbye

The hidden gold has been stolen by the lord of the flies

There’s a cloudless horizon, as far as eyes can see

Even too hot for the industrious garden bees

Yorkie stands square, with a blazing black seat

Not to be sat on, like a boiling iron roofing sheet

Time to give the roasting body a rest

Lie down with a cooling fan, blowing over the chest