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Garry Clements Poem
A letter to America
America we have been your friend
Forever now it seems
Through adversity and good times
Shared interwoven dreams
You had our back in darkest days
And likewise we’ve had yours
And though sometimes ill-advisedly
supported all your wars.
You are like an older cousin
To admire and revere
A land of truth and justice
But it’s all changing now we fear
We see your inner conflict
The hype, the lies, the spin
Upheaval of society
The rupture from within
The discontent of common folk
Of those that bear the load
The absence of all empathy
Life’s hope and dreams erode
The cynical power-hungry
That stir what lies confined
The discontent and prejudice
That simmer in the mind
Create a scapegoat stir the mob
Feed the fear and hate
Morality and ethics die
Amid the chaos they create.
Let’s blame the Jews or Muslims
The Hispanic or the Black
Chose any small minority
With no chance of fighting back
Make America Great Again
The catchcry fills the air
But somewhere in the cheering crowd
We lost what made it fair
This all bears a similarity
To another time and place
But let’s trust that this great nation
Would that pathway not retrace
Your friends the whole world over
With bated breath, afraid to ask
All hoping that your constitution
Is equal to the task
And may the storm that shakes you now
Give way to calmer skies—
Where ethics bloom and truth returns,
And hope no longer hides.
Our leanings shaped by family ties,
By hardship, pride, and pain—
The stories told around the fire
Still echo and remain
So whether you lean to left or right
Let conscience be your guide
Don’t be afraid to say your piece
It may just turn the tide
Copyright © Garry Clements | Year Posted 2025
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Garry Clements Poem
The Bungle Bungle look
C’mon she says, or we’ll be late The bus gets here at half past eight “What bus says I”. (With that look of hers my gaze is met) To the airport dearest, did you forget?
“What happens there?” (That look again) Now move your ****. Or we’ll miss the plane. The Bungle Bungles,don’t you remember I told you about it last December.
The name appealed, How could it not I’ve bungled more things than forgot. So ambivalent to say the least I just tagged along to keep the peace.
The flight was uneventful, once we found a plane that flew (another story) The pilot chatted endlessly, all the history he knew. But it was to no avail at all with the Cessna engine din At 120 decibel, no one could hear a thing.
It mattered little anyway as the landscape was revealed Of farmland geometric orchard, crop and field. Of diamond mines and hydro plants, the Argyle Lake so grand. Attempts by men to harness, the resources of the land.
The dramatic rock formations,the gorges deep and dark. The ragged red escarpment, So prominent and stark
Then that oddity of nature that we all came here to see
One bungle then another then the whole damned family.
Their banded coloration rock strata layer cake
Scattered quite at random, left in the sun to bake.
Then we’re on the ground and walking On a sandy creek bed track
‘mongst the tough and hardy plant life That endures the dry outback
On either side the monuments to natures power unending.
The building up and wearing down Our sense of time transcending.
The laying down of sediment in natures endless shift
Tectonic plates colliding in their slow relentless drift.
The uplift of such magnitude dramatic strata shorn
In bending the un-bendable the hardest rock is torn
The eons of erosion of water, wind and sand.
The magnitude of ancient floods that carved and shaped the land
As the trail ascended and the chasm inward drew.
Our gaze was drawn to boulders balanced on the cliff askew
So we hastened up the pace a bit lest on our heads they fall.
I’d guess that Mother Nature, would not care at all.
We laboured ever onward till at last our goal revealed
We stood transfixed and gaped in awe at a miracle concealed
Illuminated dimly,by a skylight gap on high
Lay the vast Cathedral cavern, sacred place, you could see why.
Of Sistine-esque proportions, aptly named all would agree.
It evoked an eerie feeling, of spirituality
The acoustics are exceptional, like Sydney Opera House it’s said.
But in place of philharmonic
I heard corroboree instead
The drone and clack of native song
Their footprints in the sand
Their songs and spirits linger here
Forever bonded to this land.
The name appealed, How could it not I’ve bungled more things than forgot. So ambivalent to say the least I just tagged along to keep the peace.
This day now etched in memory
And precious to replay
And once again my lady love’s
Persistence won the day
Another one I owe you love
This songs a gift to you
Your wisdom of the ages
A gift possessed by few.
Copyright © Garry Clements | Year Posted 2025
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