#australia
They say we live in a rich country but
Every mother that I know is crunching the numbers
Calculating in her head, while her child sleeps on her chest
Just how many more days she can afford this
Watching their tiny breaths, as though she is already missing them
The other parent is working too many hours, hours they would much rather be at home together
These are supposed to be the sweetest years
They are also supposed to be hard but they should be hard because of sleep deprivation, teething and leaps
Not hard because of the price of groceries and rent
I heard on the news today they were complaining about low birth rates
As I try to stretch what ingredients we have into another meal
I wouldn’t miss this for anything, even through the constant financial stress, however
I do not blame others who have had to decide to not have children
May 16
May 16, 2026 at 8:58 AM UTC
If I could
I’d never turn my phone on again
I’d pack a bag and we’d go deep into the bush
Build a house with our hands
Live on the land that they took from us
We would spend every day together, not having anywhere to be
No more fights with landlords
No more half hearted texts by people who couldn’t show up
May 7
May 7, 2026 at 6:10 AM UTC
I get so wrapped up in it all, that I forget
That all we really need to feel peace again
Is a car that works well enough
To drive to the outskirts of town, with the windows rolled down
To where the trees are taller
The birdsong clear
Where we can smell pine
And all of us, together
That is all I really need,
To feel peace again
May 4
May 4, 2026 at 6:44 AM UTC
This place, a ***** concrete beast
that only washes when it rains
and smells of wino **** in drains
or overheated streets,
which meets the sea to dip its tongue
and spew a tide of ******* to the waves,
a noisy armadillo filled with human fleas
that thrive upon its armoured back,
to fill each crack and notch of skin,
existing on the heart that beats within its roaring chest,
and yet for all its whistling taxi noise,
it has a faded pizza scented charm
which does not rest
except for four am when all is calm,
the time I like this grand old girl the best.
Mar 3
Mar 3, 2026 at 10:21 PM UTC
Dry earth, a parched and weary soul
takes blessing from the rain and seeks to drink its fill,
to wash its dusty face among the leaves where parrots call,
startled by the fall, they scream in harsh defiance of a laden sky
and fly to shelter fluffed and wet, in outrage at the dripping trees,
which bend and tease and wave their hands in damp delight
shivering and dancing at the power of the passing shower
a green and most entrancing sight
Feb 5
Feb 5, 2026 at 4:58 AM UTC
मैले खोदा खोज्दै गएछ जिन्दगी।
मैले सोच्दा सोच्दै भएछ जिन्दगी।
आफूले मात्रै गर्दा नहुने रहेछ, मेरो साथी।
दुःख पर्दा पीडाहरूमा रहेछ यो जिन्दगी।
Jan 9
Jan 9, 2026 at 6:05 AM UTC
I see you deeper
then you see yourself
I believe you are the best
when you be yourself
Just how the honey bird
hovers around flowers
Caught inside this unforgiving matrix,
how are you planning
to free yourself
Jan 9
Jan 9, 2026 at 5:57 AM UTC
I lie here,
Outside,
On my front lawn,
Exposing myself to the sun —
To slowly and gently,
Tan up, acclimatise,
The powerful UV rays
In the hope
to not get burnt,
During the low 40s;
Summer days.
Is it working?
We’ll see…
Ants crawl, butterflies float
And the red wattlebird sings
musically.
Time to roll over,
sauntering —
Nov 7, 2025
Nov 7, 2025 at 8:06 PM UTC
"Long Khan Province, 10 July 1969.
The contact report, it stated..."
I remember Raymond K at Woodside,
Sitting on the bed next to mine.
He was sewing buttons on a shirt and wincing
At my ***** ribald, song.
It was not so much my singing (which was loud)
But the stupid, foul profanity which he hated.
Nowadays, I think I've changed but Ray hasn't;
Ray can't, he's dead.
And you will never, ever put to right that wrong,
But needs must carry it forever,
With you in your head.
Aug 19, 2025
Aug 19, 2025 at 11:38 PM UTC
Three Section
1968 Woodside
Remember sitting ‘neath that tree?
Frank, Les, Russel, me,
Stankowski, Jim and **** Knight;
Just chatting;
Resting at last light.
The brew we shared, ‘twas passed around.
As sprawled at ease there on the ground,
Reflecting on the day - its highlights and the low.
And in the gathering, peaceful quiet, and the dark,
Each one of us
The other learned to know.
Though Conscripted everyone, those men.
And disparate lives from every shore.
I think we realised even then
(Whatever might the future have in store),
That we existed as a special group - Three Section -
And would be so ever more.
And in times to come, that future unbeknown.
Dispersed; no longer bound by service life;
But having once belonged and having shown
Each one to all that secret place revealed by war, by ****** strife.
The common ties then, wrought by wisdom
Subsequently garnered through the years,
Surely that must comfort and in part dispel the tears.
Aug 2, 2025
Aug 2, 2025 at 2:45 AM UTC
By age ten her father had left
Gone to another land,
Fortune upon his lips
She cried for days,
She felt alone...
Bereft
●
Aug 1, 2025
Aug 1, 2025 at 2:02 AM UTC
I live,
in the country
with dams salivating for rain,
their mouths agape and the wind sweeps them forever dry.
The scene is like the Sahara Plains
but peppered with ‘Stralia green gums;
a wellspring on how to survive,
wild-eyed.
May 2, 2025
May 2, 2025 at 6:29 PM UTC
The Australian bushland;
A menagerie of sound and life
Step back from distractions
And walk wild, rife.
Rekindle your inner animal
And free yourself; flee!
Oct 11, 2024
Oct 11, 2024 at 9:28 PM UTC
When you bounced across my path
The other day, you caught me
By surprise.
Seeing you up so close
Made me laugh with joy,
Reminding me to be
Present with open eyes.
Your majestic body, mastercraft!
One kick, deathly.
Present moment, realise!
May 30, 2024
May 30, 2024 at 10:07 PM UTC
i romanticise home
the concept of home
and the lack thereof
do you miss singing?
running? climbing?
bare footed dancing in the rain?
do you miss cultural expansiveness?
open markets?
ma la tang? lamb kabobs?
fashion? anonymity?
my first freedom: car.
home: car was(is?) an allowance of my choice of personhood.
here: anonymity is the allowance of my choice of personhood.
here car is:
- person, victim of transportation injustice,
stuck in a positive feedback loop [car to get
to job, job to pay for car] that makes the car a
necessity
- machine made by climate criminals, an
object that personifies their ecologically grim
themed hedonism and thus ensures
environmental injustice for both human and
non-human
will i miss Sydney for the opportunity of consumption or for the lack of needing consumption to be myself?
Mar 21, 2023
Mar 21, 2023 at 2:44 AM UTC
~
*Another green world
reels them in
unfledged
lovers
they yearn
to be hydro-electric
cascading over
emerald and stone
floating along
with the water hyacinth
where they evaporate
but do not falter
in the naked spring
of continuously November
jumping off
a bridge above ecosystem
a new frontier
under their nose
as souvenir:
pioneers to the fall
and yet all they really
need to remember is
this is where they
first made love*
~
Feb 6, 2022
Feb 6, 2022 at 1:21 PM UTC