Here’s to a Legend

They talk in awe in Launceston of the floods of ‘29
And the rains that came and caused such disarray –
How a peak tide coincided while the heavens were divided
And the Tamar cut the town from Invermay …

And all along the riverfront the waters swirled and rose
With a sucking, rushing terrifying sound –
Like ants the people scattered and only one thing mattered:
To beat a fast retreat to higher ground –

But one man went against the flow from his home on Mowbray’s ridge
He leapt onto his pushbike and rode towards the bridge
For years he’d worked at Boags – drove the brewer’s dray round town:
He knew his Clydesdales in the stables there would more than likely drown …

He reached the bridge and pedalled on, the waters now waist-deep
Halfway across his bike was gone and the odds were looking steep -
But guided by the railings he swam and clawed his way
Till he reached the other side of the bridge at Invermay …

And the horses in the stables saw a figure wading near
And his presence calmed them greatly and soothed away their fear
As he gently slipped their bridles on and stroked each massive face
Then led them through the flooded streets to a safer, higher place …

They still look back in Launceston to the floods of ‘29
And Wizard Smith’s brave act upon the day –
And how he was rewarded with a job for life at Boags
And the pride with which he drove the brewer’s dray …

And I even now imagine on a wet and wintry night
If I stood there by the river with the brewery in sight
I might spy a misty figure perched high upon a dray
With four big Clydesdales crossing the bridge at Invermay.




John McCallum
2010

Nike

My runners have a message
emblazoned on the side:
Just do it.
A slogan to inspire us all
to run the miles,
last the distance,
succeed in life.

Just do it.
An all-purpose, one-stop slogan
with special offers,
dreamed up by some advertising guru
on Madison Avenue
who wouldn’t know the real Nike
if he fell over her.

Which he might,
if he climbs Mount Olympus
on a hot Hellenic day,
wearing his expensive runners
with tight, pressed jeans
and a superior expression.
(The tourist from the bus
who looks like Dolly Parton
only bigger, thinks he’s cool.)
A legend in his own lunchtime,
full of hot air and coq au vin.

But ah, that Nike!
A goddess with class, looks, allure
and wings. The Goddess of
Strength, Speed and Victory.
Our friend might glimpse her
on the mount, hanging out with
Zeus, Apollo and their lot.

But I suspect she took off
when she saw him coming,
because she knew he couldn’t
do it.



Cathy McCallum

The Wonder of Myth

At the foot of great mount Olympus
They sing sweet songs to appease
Grumpy old Zeus, while in his
Heavenly house he would berate
The daughters of the cunning immortals
And Ares strikes his spear upon
The rocks, sparking high notes of war
To hurry the phalanx beyond the green
Valleys of the waiting Peloponnisos.

Dear, gentle Athena, teaching Apollo
How to curry favour with the tiresome Greeks
And Hector, rattling his platitudes to anyone
Who will stop singing those sweet songs
To appease grumpy old Zeus in his heaven.
Oh! That we should have to know such
Mind numbing codology from the long ago.

It would be far better to prattle on about mythical
Cuchulainn, tied to his tree-trunk, frightening
The enemies of the Fianna as they tried
To subdue the bold men of royal Ulster
During the wars of the ancient Celts
Spilling blood and gore in the name of
History and righteousness for all to share

Or talk about the seal-women swimming
Along Atlantic waters by the coves of Achill
Where they shed their skins and lived quietly
Among the fishermen on that barren isle
Or will we have to find more believable
Myths in the books of the past while the
Writers of the new world spill out today’s
Stories of unbelievable nonsense.

Ah! we need a Palaeolithic myth to tickle the
Blood of our listeners on this summer’s day.
Then lend an ear as I unburden myself with
The myth of the almighty serpent, spinning
Its dreamtime wonders, gouging the course of
The Murambigi and the Todd and the other
Mighty rivers of this great land, home to the
Oldest myths-makers of all time and wonder
Why their stories are not yet world renown.

Legend Bother

Stories of the legend, of past and present folk,
Are shared with all of us to help lighten up the yoke,
To make life more bearable, to ease the pain a bit,
Well it’s all a load of rubbish, a load of ol’ bullshit.

For there is no special hero nor heroine that I can name,
Who would pass the common folk in any sort of fame
And all the stories you might hear, well they are just that,
A heap of hyperbole by some PR bloke, chewing on the fat.

But let me make it plain and let me make it clear,
If we didn’t have those legends life would be pretty drear,
For without them in our midst we could become distracted,
By all the other rubbish we see each day enacted.

It’s not just the Politicians who daily scream and rant,
It’s all the other no goods who strive to be gallant
And seek the name of legend to add to all they own,
It leaves you with such an ache there’s nought to do but moan.

So here’s a thought on legend, I hope you’ll take it kind,
For if I truly wanted I could really spill my mind
And rip into those legends of every shape and style
But that would take up more than just a little while.

So a though I’ll share around and ponder it please do,
For if you were a legend, do you think you’d be true blue
Or just a load of argy-bargy to keep things as you would like
Well, if that’s the case old mate you can go and take a hike.

For a legend, no matter to whom or what the name belongs,
Is made up by a variety of mongrel worded songs
And no one can guarantee that any legend story’s true,
And that’s the rub old china, it’s really up to me and you.

We have to source the facts and dig down to what is real,
Where any legend is concerned we have to toss the spiel,
There truly is no knowing that what we read is right,
It makes you want to fume and take to them the fight.

But whoa there, grab a bit of time; see things for what they are,
Come sit over here and we’ll chat about it at the bar,
We’ll have a pint or two, maybe even more,
Then once and for all we can settle this legend score.



There’s heaps of legend tales, go on just take your pick,
You can start the game, I’ll make it easy, you, have first kick,
It is difficult I know but be a sport and give it all you can,
For most of them, those legends, got up and then they ran

Rings round the rest of us, humanity I’m talking about
Those legends took no prisoners they truly caused a rout
And scattered any opposition, no dallying there for sure,
So, if you want to challenge them, don’t be so demure.

Get in and sock it to them, give it all your might,
Take it to those legends it is your human right,
For if you don’t they’ll smash you to the ground
And have you on the ropes before you make a sound.

For the legends will have won and left you mighty dazed
And the chance to overpower them will make you feel half crazed,
So before you stand upright and go in to bat once more,
I’ll tell one last time as you struggle from the floor.

These legends have been with us since time itself began,
Though it wasn’t Moses nor mighty Zeus who put them in the can.
It was just a bloke like you or your missus overt there
Who started all this legend stuff by sitting easy on a chair.

Boredom is the culprit you can take my word on that,
Just a couple sitting down after dinner and chewing on the fat
That is how it started they told it all to one and other
Then left it there to us to sort, this endless legend bother.


Adrian Kavanagh
February 3, 2010

The Myth of Positive Thinking

With positive thinking you can defeat death
Be happy, be brave , you can do it, you can!
I don’t want to look at your skeleton frame
Shrunk and ravaged by cancer and ready to cark
So don’t shout, don’t be angry, don’t scream at your partner
Retreat to your centre and accept your fate for
we all must die.

No positive thinking can save you from death.
So scream and be angry and rage at the light
that’s dimming before them, the unhappy kids
Who cannot accept that you’re reaching the brink
Of a great new adventure that makes you a star
Recapture your faith and toss away fear for
we all must die.

Myths and Legends

Somewhere between history, present, and past, they lurk,
Just out of sight they lie awaiting animation on my inner eye these
Fables of wisdom, luminosity of ‘otherworld’ and even life itself.
Tales of unrequited love , heroism ,for there is only victor and vanished
Passion, revenge, matricide and children lost as pawns in love and war.

What can they offer us with their glossy patina of truth these
Legends of ‘otherness’ and difference vying for our loyalty?
Power in the tribe, safe within the fulcrum of reality and disbelief?
Somewhere between the thin places, they lie claiming life in invention
In the fulcrum binding myth, legend and spirited grudging acceptance.

An Inglorious War 1914-1918

Eyes blank, bodies shatter- soar in the current of hot air
then flumph into the dirt, broken, weightless flotsam
shared life and death in the unsung coffin of the trench
Unmitigated horror all around in hues of red and black
In the distance,the rat tat tat boom reveals reluctant day
No will to dawn on carnage bloody,brutal, hopeless
hoping none have lived to see theiring horses try to rise -
Disembowelled,entrails oozing sceaming for help but there
Are no words, no living hands to comfort their distress


Evil lives in this place hovers overhead
While Death waits with gentleling arms
For Death has no glorious lustre here
Nor will age weary glorious youth in sacrifice!
No honour in the children’s lives, so cheaply bought.
They lie forever now, entombed in time, beloved sons
beloved men of heart and soul, the flowers of the field,
extinguished forever in war's futililty and gloom of loss.

Beauty and the Beast

The beast lurks within each one of us, but
Beauty brings no measure of safety.
For wearying flesh reveals writ clear
Received myths of beauty, past and present.
Tossed into deepest darkness, our beast is unredeemed
The unfit spotted mirror remind us- all are doomed
Botox,Body Sculpting, lotions foul and pungent
Create doe eyed Bratz and Barbie look-a-likes who
Search deeply their reflection for a glimpse of
Once upon a time true self, acceptance and diversity.