Tasmanian Europa Poets' Gazette No 95: 2012

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Joe Lake's Opinion

We went to Somerset beach on Judy’s birthday. We took the two dogs. We walked barefoot where the waves played with our toes. The water was warm but soon it will be autumn and the water in Bass Strait turns cold and there will be no more barefoot walking on the beach this year. I’ve finished my

Dorfer film script which turned out to need editing and Michael volunteered. But I was in such a hurry to send it to the National Library that I didn’t bother. Now I’ve changed my mind and shortened the whole thing to A Christmas Journey To Waldheim and I use One Hand Clapping as a guide to script writing directions. Good Lord, I’m having a good time. I’m not getting anywhere but it is true that the journey is everything and I never say, “Are we there yet?”

Computer

I’ve asked Computer to help write a poem today

So far he’s not complying.

I’m sitting here with fingers poised

But he’s not even trying!

Since he’s supposed to be so smart,

He should find it a breeze

To write some lines of simple verse.

We’re not that hard to please!

I’m yawning with boredom, Computer,

Awaiting a start to your rhyme.

This is yet another example

Of a letdown one more time.

So go and have a few bytes of your microchips!

Go and hide in your Computer tower!

I know just the thing to fix you, mate!

Right now, I’ll switch off the power!

Computer

I’ve asked Computer to help write a poem today

So far he’s not complying.

I’m sitting here with fingers poised

But he’s not even trying!

Since he’s supposed to be so smart,

He should find it a breeze

To write some lines of simple verse.

We’re not that hard to please!

I’m yawning with boredom, Computer,

Awaiting a start to your rhyme.

This is yet another example

Of a letdown one more time.

So go and have a few bytes of your microchips!

Go and hide in your Computer tower!

I know just the thing to fix you, mate!

Right now, I’ll switch off the power!

Listen Hard

Pink and white blossom rejoices,

Air entices, warm,

Breeze tickles petals,

Teases in the rebirth,

The playground is busy now,

Children in innocent pursuits,

Delightful laughter resonates,

Listen hard, listen hard,

For the clatter goes on!

Wheels, naked on rail, distant,

Always the rude intrusion,

Harsh reminder Notting Hill

is always hungry,

Red and silver capsules snake, deep,

Gold dazzles high in blue,

London Underground is relentless,

Hot chaos at Marble Arch,

Tranquil silence at Ruislip Gardens.

Listen Hard

Pink and white blossom rejoices,

Air entices, warm,

Breeze tickles petals,

Teases in the rebirth,

The playground is busy now,

Children in innocent pursuits,

Delightful laughter resonates,

Listen hard, listen hard,

For the clatter goes on!

Wheels, naked on rail, distant,

Always the rude intrusion,

Harsh reminder Notting Hill

is always hungry,

Red and silver capsules snake, deep,

Gold dazzles high in blue,

London Underground is relentless,

Hot chaos at Marble Arch,

Tranquil silence at Ruislip Gardens.

My View with Michael Garrad

Singer Whitney Houston had more money than you and I will have had hot dinners all our lives. Now she’s dead, aged 48. Gone! Just her songs remind us who she was and how good she was.

But dollars didn’t make it a good life, not in the end -the drugs, the alcohol. Perhaps money came too easily.

Thing is, we, most of us, put such great store by how much we have, the material gains. The $500,000 house with four bedrooms and not that many living at home. Perhaps just the two of us! The four-bedroom shack, the four-wheel drive, the BMW, the boat, the caravan, the campervan. Yes, you’ve heard it all before, ad nauseum, and, yes, it does give us pleasure right now and, more importantly, it enhances our social status - ”My word, they have done well!” Oh, forgot the farmlet and a few head of cattle and sheep. Will this wealth ever end?

Well, it will. When we die. And what good is it after cremation or burial? Good for those left behind depending on the debt level of the estate.

All this grandeur! All this envy from those who can only dream about such material niceties. Weep, baby, weep!

Those who survive will weep all right because it comes to...not very much at the end.

Whitney Houston was sensational, as was her bank account but she couldn't defy death, the final gasping moment, alone. Alone!

Beautiful Portland

Sit and ponder of past years,

Town of historic charm so famous,

Glorious, beautiful, beautiful Portland - so very true,

On the ocean, the waves roll to the milky shore,

Weathered fishermen feel the sea spray on their

loved faces,

Let us walk the tranquil, bleached beaches,

The local band’s music echoed for miles,

Mechanics’ Hall, many smiles,

Men standing near the inside doors,

Shy young maidens sitting on-site,

Loudspeaker: “Ladies’ choice!”

Never-ending memories,

The last waltz and anthem,

Again let us walk the shores,

Crashing waves stampede against the rocks,

Salty breath everywhere,

Breeze kisses the faces of many,

Let us walk the tranquil beaches,

Thinking of past years.

Beautiful Portland

Sit and ponder of past years,

Town of historic charm so famous,

Glorious, beautiful, beautiful Portland - so very true,

On the ocean, the waves roll to the milky shore,

Weathered fishermen feel the sea spray on their

loved faces,

Let us walk the tranquil, bleached beaches,

The local band’s music echoed for miles,

Mechanics’ Hall, many smiles,

Men standing near the inside doors,

Shy young maidens sitting on-site,

Loudspeaker: “Ladies’ choice!”

Never-ending memories,

The last waltz and anthem,

Again let us walk the shores,

Crashing waves stampede against the rocks,

Salty breath everywhere,

Breeze kisses the faces of many,

Let us walk the tranquil beaches,

Thinking of past years.

Cocooned In Darwin

Where were you,

old, old man, in 1942

when many of your contemporaries

were serving your country overseas

against the Huns and the Japs?

Old man, many say that you were

cocooned in Darwin

and that with a false quiver

you cowardly hid behind the words,

“I can’t talk about it.”

Cocooned In Darwin

Where were you,

old, old man, in 1942

when many of your contemporaries

were serving your country overseas

against the Huns and the Japs?

Old man, many say that you were

cocooned in Darwin

and that with a false quiver

you cowardly hid behind the words,

“I can’t talk about it.”

Never

They will never know the feel of sunshine

on their face;

They will never know the joy of winning a race;

They will never get to play with toys;

They will never get to date girls or boys;

They will never have a chance to be a dancer

or discover a cure for cancer;

They will never get to marry

and start a family;

Their lives have all been thwarted

Because they’ve been aborted.