Seen as a collection of spare parts
swimming in close formation
neither fish nor fowl
from a southern hemisphere nation
sewn together as if torn asunder
the amphibian antipodean
from way Down Under
is the odd-looking bottom-feeding
no muss nor fuss
otter-footed beaver-tailed
egg-laying duck-billed platypus
the males of which are venomous
an excellent swimmer
whenever it dives
it closes its ears nose and eyes
altho' a riparian carnivore
electroreception is how it survives
It's enough to make one chunder
there used to be a time Down Under
when fair dinkum the label on the tucker tin
only stated the true blue maker's name
and the Vegemite we'd eat for brekkie contained therein
while not a porky implied mate there's something to hide
with a shonky no responsibility disclaimer
I’m spewin’ cranky as today's focus is on what's not inside
no GMO cholesterol additives gluten calories caffeine nuts
no added colouring sugar preservatives
no artificial sweeteners monounsaturated
no polyunsaturated &/or trans fats
and bloody oath cobber that's not all as I recall
no worries tho' there's also low sodium
not whingeing but one wonders if it's a dodgy admission
there's no bonzer thingo within such as ace nutrition
meanwhile I'll fill my billycan from yon billabong
surrounded by a few emu and a roo or two
as up a gum tree the kookaburra laughingly looks on
there's nothing more I can do so may as well
bung another shrimp on the barbie blow the froth off a few
have one last blast on me didgeridoo Blue and shoot through
Day slides away unspoken
Over the timeless hill
Dark oak and ash
Stencil the fading light
Black flickers of roost-bound rooks
Imprint the low sky’s cushion clouds
While half a world away
God’s turning Earth unfurls
Another’s bright Antipodean dawn.
I love sitting outside as the daylight fades, witnessing the departure of another day – a day never to be experienced again.
In 2003 at Llansadwrn in Wales, found me coming to grips with the awesome truth that I was on a vast globe which was forever turning, exactly as God designed!
I hear the term bandied about
azure seas, endless beach,
Thinking of the far off lands
That took days and days to reach.
Longing for the tropics,
Baffled by the length of flight,
To finally land on distant shores,
Unaware if day or night.
Dark and light, time zones
Knowing relatives who sleep
Dwell in the antipodean
As toward the sun we creep.
Someone is always waking
While another rests their head,
One arrives at work
And a further breaks daily bread.
Gaining hours, losing days,
Tired beyond all hope,
Modern travel is too fast
For the body-clock to cope.
Skype tells me it’s your birthday, Polly Ross,
a disembodied message from the ether
that nipped me like a redback. “Southern Cross” –
remember that? So, hurl it in my teeth, or
delete me, tweet me, blank me, come across –
do what you will, I’m living with the loss.
You probably no longer give a toss.
If only I’d a cooler glamour-gloss,
could be more Aussie actor (Meller? Heather?)
you’d see the gold, and set aside the dross.
I miss you, need you. There. But you’re the boss …
Riotous, raucous —
Rainbow parrots’ feathers fly.
Acrobatic clowns
Three great crows regard
The thrown away takeaway —
Keen, sharp, purposeful.
Butcherbirds on wire
Bowing and fluting in turn
A twilight concert.
Black wings on pink dawn.
Flying foxes homeward bound
To roost — full of fruit.
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