Sunday, October 4, 2009
from fragments towards the single man's hut
from fragments towards the single man's hut
from fragments towards the single man's hut
from fragments towards the single man's hut
bend of the river with trees and dusk sky
cliff climbs out of the sun
moss against it
angles of bark
walls brush
clouds once were the fastest thing
shadows and grass spun
wings fall like leaves
when they so will
air at an angle to tilt
dreaming clouds
twigs of all ages
lapping the far shore
clouds the ridge hides
pink to an edge
for their final shape
TWO SONGS
two songs:
bundanong’s song
kangaroos jump through the fences at Bundanon
you turn around and when you look back the roos are gone
Arthur Boyd painting in his studio at Bundanon
he gave it to the nation and that’s how come I can sing this song
kookaburras laugh their heads off at Bundanon
they look pretty silly flying around with no heads on
toss up my hat cause I’m so happy at Bundanon
you can see me running down the hill to the river
chasing it along
kitten in pyjamas
for children and adults
looked in my bedroom and what did I see?
there was a kitten in pyjamas looking back at me
she was a kitten in pjyamas
she was a kitten in pjyamas
a kitten in pjyamas
and you know what I mean!
there’s a gate out beyond all paddocks
Nowra
in hieroglyphics
unnumbered fragment
this is the land
this is the land
in me
reminds
those who could have been born here
or there
this is a past life
when I was the prince
and cockroaches came to worship
my country
ah
the smug returning
tax me bastards now
and I will tax the land with turnings
tune words to paper
so they take to air
my anthem in a land of droppings
step where you will but beware
this is land our fathers shat –
how brave that makes me
whatever catches eye gets grip
so watch – we’re going to find a way –
that’s home
and some day when the dollar’s high
I’ll sail back there– I will
a poet’s life is full of fun
there’s time to kill
and thrill and spill
I’ll have my time with the sky
this is the land
in me
reminds
those who could have been born here
or there
this is a past life
when I was the prince
and cockroaches came to worship
my country
ah
the smug returning
tax me bastards now
and I will tax the land with turnings
tune words to paper
so they take to air
my anthem in a land of droppings
step where you will but beware
this is land our fathers shat –
how brave that makes me
whatever catches eye gets grip
so watch – we’re going to find a way –
that’s home
and some day when the dollar’s high
I’ll sail back there– I will
a poet’s life is full of fun
there’s time to kill
and thrill and spill
I’ll have my time with the sky
Sunday, August 23, 2009
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