where is he
it's late
the dinner plate
sits full
waits

the door
shut against the night
its quiet, alone

the phone
rings

its him
on his way

face blackened
from dusty
track

back
home

winter air crisp
the sun
shares its crystal rays
play
lovingly on
earths wounded
arms
leafy palms
upward to the sky

where's the fun
here in the desert sun
when you talk with one
who can't see
the beauty...
shimmering air glinting off
red rocky rises, gaps and escarpments
leaves lolling lazily
across sandy river beds
the lands black feet walking still
remembering
a time when roads were nil
and whitefellas hadn't spilled
across their sacred land
when life wasn't planned
scanned and graded
into channels of control
now police patrol
tared streets
and black feet
keep
the rules
while we break theirs
it seems there's no breaking
through and
cultural walls
stall relationships new

yet in the suns shimmering heat
the country's still alive
with languages that understand
its rhythms, lands

as the sands of time run out

that ugly bit
that's hanging over
hanging out

draw a line and
redefine
my life
remove the strife

and let this heavy
burden
hit the bin

and let my life
begin
again

(dedicated to Leys - may the pain be short and pleasure forever)

has come
purchased at LIGHTS'R'US
and finally with overshoulder illumination
I can READ instead of watching TV
a world has re-openned
time expanded into unfettered
opportunities for growth and discovery
during nightly couch sitting episodes

today it's 'wisdom of the elders'
a monumental book by
David Suzuki et al about the alternative world views
of Indigenous peoples
how these perceptions are not the naive tales
of dying races but relevant and potent wisdom
for today

and guess what 'Earth7'
is nearing its end!
nearly time for nature to clear the table
and start again

clog arteries
invade the mind
absorb all attention
feed the
I

...catch your breath
inhaled like your last
thought
a feeling
caught
in words

a stream of living cameos
until your
death

a fallen
rose

can't you believe in me
and stand by my side
trust my judgement
and show some respect
sure challenge and warn
but don't push me aside
when I hit a wall

cause it seems to be those
times when I need you the most
that you stick in the knife
leave me and boast
of your own prowess

yes,
it'll be hard to trust you again
but another day will no doubt come
when smarting pride heals
and friendship returns
as we come to terms yet again
with our own humanness

now but not
always the case
fallen from grace
basket case more likely

yet after it all
each round, each fall
seems somehow to pan out
and flouting the odds
turn out alright

and what the key?
surely not me
but some kind of desperate
unshakeable faith
that somehow
attracts a higher grace
that respecting the weak
gives leg up to
those the world freaks
out at
disposing of quietly
turning away
with nothing said

its those who stand in good
stead
with some deeper, wider
older wisdom
that doesn't respect schism
between rich and poor

but rather's a power
standing in wait
at each poor heart's door

...my grandfather cried out
to the old soldiers
passing by

'higga macia' they replied
higga macia g', he shouted back
'higga macia g wa' they replied

the air electrified
with emotions, memories and
mateship raw -
my mother saw!!
clinging to his only leg
spellbound by his battle cry
above Melbourne's ANZAC crowds
lining the streets
as the 23rd battalion passed by