Estrangement

In the soft grey light of their awakening dawn
it began by simple means and unintended
easy stages. Sadly, they were ignorant
of its advancing, pernicious existence.

Each day they would walk happily together
while the imperceptible diverging of their path
was cunningly hidden, though they were
side by side in shared knowledge.

One step, one year, one lifetime,
soon they would be so far apart
their separateness would then
be finally understood by both.

From either end of that long corridor
they looked back towards each other
wondering at how they became so distant,
not worrying at how to become rejoined.

In the never-ending confusion of this conflict,
alienation became their abiding collaborator,
as the long years of indifference made their
lives more liveable and less caring for those others.

Their progeny willingly accepted the myths of
distrust spreading quickly with great assurance.
Lives lived in ignorance enhanced the mounting
strength of this powerful, destructive schism.

It has been far too long for any repair, the eons
have made sure, the distance too vast and
the estrangement complete from those companions,
who with us, once roamed this planet in harmony.

Exile Dreaming

Raindrops are dream carriers.
They fall and are walked on.
Dreams and raindrops,
all life is nourished by them.
Far away lies a dream,
will it fall from the skies?
O how the clouds were searched
and none was there
not even rain sometimes.
Beautiful rain, rain
to wash green into Eire hills.
Rain to make time pure,
while clouds travel the world,
like a dreamer never seeing
the new lands of the lonely.

Exiles are human raindrops,
soaking into the deserts of indifference,
mixed with the abundance of others
while seeking a new self. Are they
escaping from failure or success?
Some clouds float carelessly,
like lost butterflies, dancing
from sod and sweet flowers
to strangeness wherein they die
and more further go across
all the wide world to touch
other lands and seas for a time,
to sleep soundly and dream

On some Australian shore
or by red dust desert,
where wild sands whistle in the wind,
the tunes of loneliness. And others
upon the highest peak in far Tibet,
they think of home and cry a tear,
for Baile Ata Clait, that city
of ten thousand dreams and more,
or do they sail a ship into the
calling arms of Christ upon a hill
and mix in Rios joust?
Is this the cause that is made to die?
or some forgotten deed
a century gone by is thought,
while walking through some springtime field,
in some forgotten corner of the world.

In time, the dream of home
will shout around the world
being heard by each to each.
Then move they will once more,
to see again, with dimmed eyes of
distance things old and new,
friends forgotten
and remembered all again.
Ah! but distance moves so slowly,
time forever takes its hour
and all those wishes fail to make it real.
So, dreams like raindrops will come anew;
a kind of thinking in a half suspended mind,
that’s an exile dreaming, (I am sure),
for in that thinking and that dreaming,
are my hopes,
with all the prayers I say,
that one day,
I shall be amongst you once again.
Hills and fields of Ireland,
home to me.

Time and Motion Study

A love song to my husband

Note: If anyone should think this poem is a strange way to express one's love for one's husband, please be reassured. It reflects our sense of humour. And its essence is truthful.


To start at the beginning:
What force transcribes our lives?
What planets collide to change
the course of ants?
What casual occurrence aeons ago
determines our path?

My mother had plenty to say:
“You could have had anyone, if you’d
only wear make-up.”
She had a list—descending, of course:
• A doctor, not in Obstetrics
• A lawyer, not Jewish
• A rich American, not Mormon
• A nice man in middle management.

My husband failed the grade.
But I, desperate and dateless at 39,
took him on.
He told his mother we had met
on Perfect Match, where I was Number 3.
He told me he had money.
He told me the planets had collided
and our fate forged in the fires within.
So be it.

If dogs at airports were trained
to sniff out losers
they would stop at John and bark.
I look at the Milky Way and question
the arbitrariness of life:
distant, indifferent planets colliding away,
making of us what they will.
Down here, off-course as usual,
we toast the kindness of stars.




Cathy McCallum

And The Band Played On

A true story.


Grandpa Jimmy, my Grandpa Jimmy -
Quick as a flash he would shimmy
Up rope ladders and along wet planks
To slam white hot rivets in the cold steel flanks
Of the massive hull held in the slip -
The fastest, biggest ever ship.
Grandpa Jimmy, toughest of men.
Plater. Belfast. 1910.

Grandpa Jack, my Grandpa Jack -
Full speed ahead, on course, on tack
He upped anchor to explore the world
Wherever the Union Jack unfurled.
A merchant sailor born to roam -
Rarely, hardly ever, home.
Grandpa Jack, no man's fool.
1912. Liverpool.

One built the ship, one joined the crew,
Though neither man the other knew.
But not for Grandpa Jack the thrill
Of her maiden voyage – he called in ill.
With pomp and cheers she sailed away -
And though he thought he'd rue the day
There came the ice, the fear, the panic:
The ship Jimmy built was named Titanic.



John McCallum 2009

Happenstance

Driving home from Weldborough
Taking the back road at the top of the Pass,
The air was thick with moisture
Misty rain was delicate, but didn't last.

The mist started to clear on descent
Past the quarry and over Crystal Creek,
The trees were glistening with raindrops
As the low cloud clung to the peaks.

Then suddenly I was startled by an Emu
That shot out from the old Liberator mine,
It charged off in front of the car
Its legs strutting long and in perfect time.

But the Tasmanian Emu is extinct
What was it doing up here.
No camera to record the incident
No one will believe me, I swear.

The Emu legged it at break neck pace
Forty kilometers as I descended downhill,
Glancing its head I caught its eye
But it run on with an Emu's will.

Crossing over the swift running Groom
It skidded right into the old bridge track,
Then doubled back up the hill behind me
It stood to catch its breath as I walked back.

As I moved closer it crossed the river
Into the bush from whence it came,
An escaped pet I wagered as I got into the car
Continuing home as it started to rain.


Ian Matthews.

Happenstance

All of life is a happenstance
From the first day of breath
We meet and mingle, fall in and out
Of contacts, til our death.

A birthday celebration seals the fate
A troubled call to triple 0 -
Dealing with other families
Bloomsday cheerios.

Births, deaths, divorce and marriage
Act as the humanist glue -
Humans, like atoms, buzzing about
Upon the planet so blue.

The world revolves in chaotic theory
No order with a God.
Divine providence and destiny here?
Just too many peas in a pod!

Kym Matthews
14th August 2009.

A couple of contributions from Bill Guy on the theme of 'Shopping' from the last session of the Aldinga group:




SHOPPING, ANCIENT AND MODERN

Once were hunter-gatherers,
Sliding through the bush with spear,
Stalking prey in cautious silence,
Taking aim while quelling fear.

Now we’re merely tame consumers,
Trundling down the aisles with trolley,
Snatching pre-packed meat or fish,
Scooping sprouts to go with cauli.

Once were eagle-eyed, fleet-footed,
Risking danger at every stride,
Leaping, striking for the kill,
Bringing back the food with pride.

Now flat-footed and dull-eyed,
Waiting in line at check-out till,
Wishing there was more to life,
Whingeing when we get the bill.

Once were campfire cooks and diners,
Eating what was caught that day,
Drifting towards a peaceful night,
Finding joy in work and play.

Now we are convenience cooks,
Plucking meals from microwave,
Thinking with self-deceptive grin,
‘This sure beats living in a cave.’



THEN AND NOW


They did heroic things together,
defying all the odds;
went mountain climbing, kayaking,
smiled on by the gods.

Adventure days are now long past,
distant lands are off their map;
the local shopping centre
has become their tourist trap.

Still they have their memories,
still together, they explore,
though now it’s for exotic foods
at their super gourmet store


Bill Guy, Adelaide, July 2009