POEMS OF TROUBLED TIMES
Preface
These poems were all written in May 2019. The poems are about people and the weather. The ideas each contains may be different but there is that common thread. Young people in particular these days seem to be passionate about global warming. Recent examples of this emotion in young demonstrators have actually helped inspire me to write. At the time of writing at least, the weather was fine. What lies ahead remains to be seen.
An Unexpected Journey
I caught a bus yesterday To Davy Jones’ locker The rain I must say was an endless patter That was to my eyes a serious matter It was the reason The street became a river of no return That torrent abhorrent defied all human concern As watery hands to my consternation Changed the bus’s destination Then it suddenly became a toy in a bath Bubbles on windows as the aftermath As we swirled in the water to Fate’s decree White foam flew Furrow followed free Next I saw A V-dub Beetle Swaying and swimming like a boat afloat Then unexpectedly like breakfast on toast Our bus stuck fast against a post Just as a cow a tree and a bin Floated by midstream We remained transfixed on the beam So I fumbled towards the door Through the water on the floor... Just as those rescue arms reached me I caught sight of A house spinning past Adrift like a swan And then it was gone As the little group of passengers set free with me Wondered what our next cataclysm would be As the globe warms
Kangaroo
It is so still lying there Life gone Almost alone and motionless on the cracked earth That spreads everywhere these days On the treeless plain The other creature hovers beside the body Sniffing the death Motionless for a while Sad eyes blinking in the heat Looking And then glancing suddenly afar... Slowly With a despondent motion The still living thing hops away Like a torn paper tossing in the stale wind Death is not unusual in these times It touches many creatures Especially the young That kangaroo babe is stiff now And linked forever to the past Its mother accepting reality Moves off in a hopeful quest for water
Two Kookaburras
Danger has no depth like blazing wildfire A monster with dragon breath Those flames leap fiercely torching scorching Glazing any protoplasm put to death Two kookaburras are about to die in the pyre Birds turned to ashes As the fire maims Dead relics of life Caught in the updrafts of the flames The moving wall of heat-bound space In its cruel vibrating race Lashes flashes scorching every other thing Time disintegrates as fire bells ring Can you hear them you gods of CO2? Do my thoughts scorch your minds? Global reflections on false dissections Longing for wise corrections O what did that scientist say?
The Wind Unseen
Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I But when it has you in its grip That wind is flouncing by This knowledge is my wont Now you feel it now you don’t No I have not seen the wind Yet it must be there Playing with air As all that dust mummifies the sky The wind does more than pass you by Yes it is really there Glowering everywhere No problem at all When young leaves fall The culprit remains unseen At the pummelling of the green But other upshots meet the eye Of damage bills far more high Invisible malpractice Sins of the wind linked to coal Now look at that house with a giant tree Thrusting through its roof Roots embedded in the air As the wind stays there aloof No you cannot see the wind However hard you stare Though the world stands maimed You know The wind is always there – untamed
Hail Poetry
Old Jack was a farmer from ancient days derived Who understood the seasons and the reasons crops survived But the times they were a’changing And life needed rearranging As past things had to give way to the new The old man was an owner And he was a loner So no one ever told him what to do No one that is till Ginger Mick appeared So full of guile, a patron to be feared Ginger was a cunning chap from the rich fraternity Who taught Jack what was needed To catch up with modernity Down came the gum tree that shaded the old dunny All pests were poisoned with a speed not funny An additional plan so life could thus pass muster Was a costly contract with a crop duster Next came the bank Old Jack not alone Was helped by Mick raise a dubious loan Clearly now farm life was going well But good intentions line the road to Hell Said Ginger Mick we’ve achieved the norm But he ignored a violent storm The hail came fast and never seemed to stop Until in the end with a tragic trend It had ruined the whole crop
Goodbye Little Yellow Bird
Goodbye little yellow bird The branch of your tree is dead. Goodbye little yellow bird There is little more to be said. Goodbye little yellow bird You are but two inches tall. Goodbye little yellow bird You tremble as you fall Into the arms of dead things Decaying on the ground With the ghosts of Graylings and sweet Silvery Blues * While lifespans of extinct things do not make the news. Where the wind after felling those forsaken trees Now makes not a solitary sound, While you, little bird about to die, Are now to Heaven bound. ____________________________________ * Graylings, Silvery Blues: butterflies facing extinction.
Let There Be Light
“Damn and blast!” said Grandpa As all the lights went out He fiddled in the dark to find a torch And felt an urge to shout Then the air whistled And all his hair bristled As the wind blew the roof off the house So Grandad in fright felt as weak as a mouse And then he let fly with a curse That has no place in this verse That oath would have lifted the ceiling Had not the wind with no fellow feeling Done its job and got there first So there stood Grandpa believing the worst Under the light of the stars He shivered in fear till the storm had passed To the sound of his grateful hurrahs Plus the few subtle words he said at the last: “Our future is now our past.”
A Hatter’s Matter
Mercury on hats is toxic It renders the brain anoxic No matter said the Hatter in his turn Our job rights are now clear It’s our career We must be allowed to earn Arsenic’s a dangerous shade of green Once used on gloves to preen* Don’t ban said the glover in his turn Our job rights are now clear It’s our career We must be allowed to earn Sandblasting of clothes may be a neurosis And a possible cause of silicosis Don’t get stressed Stay well dressed Said the clothier in his turn Our job rights are now clear It’s our career We must be allowed to earn Elizabeth I used vinegar with lead To cover her smallpox sores This rotted her teeth and thinned her hair And yellowed her ageing pores Said the Royal Supplier in his turn Our job rights are now clear It’s our career We must be allowed to earn ____________________________________ * Arsenic was also used to make artificial flowers.
The Last Koala
Thirty-third tree on the left Just past the big wattle Residence ideal For a worthy community member Splendid dwelling place Off the beaten track No postcode here Thus its beauty is well preserved Completely furnished residence With appropriate fittings Provisions easily obtainable All timber construction Excellent landscape views Surrounded by a fine garden of natives Predominance of Eucalypts Vacant possession As the last koala is dead
Fire Alarm
Little boy with a grown up mind Jamie An endless talker No trace of guile or self praise Just trying to enrich his days Lots of questions out of the blue What is wrong with C02? Why did all those river fish fry? What is the reason good things die? Some of those questions were answered at school Reading his homework’s my constant rule I helped him a lot with sentence creation And filled in the gaps of his punctuation Read some stories with him too Some were old and some were new Some I chose and some were set And we both shared time on the internet Funny thing that When you look at your son You see yourself In a new life begun There is something free With his POV It becomes your destiny You feel extended Life is amended As time stands still Against your will Since you enquire I lost my eyes in a fierce bushfire Read and write now only in Braille Still keep trying afraid to fail Lost the house too And Jamie so clever Now I’m alone Alas forever!
Cyclone
Cyclone. Can you hear the winds a’calling? Cyclone Can you see the trees a’falling? What you gunna do now man? Cyclone. Can you hear the voices crying? Cyclone Can you see the people dying? What you gunna do now man? Over the mountains the fury rages Not seen before in history’s pages Along the streets everybody’s dashing Scared to death by the lightning flashing Cyclone. Can you hear the winds a’calling? Cyclone Can you see the trees a’falling? What you gunna do now man? Cyclone. Can you hear the voices crying? Cyclone Can you see the people dying? What you gunna do now man? Over the plains the air splits asunder Ten thousand sheep go mad with the thunder Down by the river the dingoes seek blood But it’s all washed away now in that flood Cyclone. Can you hear the winds a’calling? Cyclone Can you see the trees a’falling? What you gunna do now man? Cyclone. Can you hear the voices crying? Cyclone Can you see the people dying? What you gunna do now man? The world’s unfurled and falling to pieces Trouble in the air and the pain increases Stop all the rain and end the pollution Get it right now and start a revolution Cyclone. Can you hear the winds a’calling? Cyclone Can you see the trees a’falling? What you gunna do now man? Cyclone. Can you hear the voices crying? Cyclone Can you see the people dying? What you gunna do now man? What you gunna do now man? What you gunna do now man?
Heat
Can you feel it? All around us Encircling Changing existence against our wishes Cooking us like little fishes In a packet waiting for the chips Temperature rising How does it work This ephemeral lurk Known as global warming? How is it forming? This season of eternal summer? Or should I say infernal? Well is it or is it not the norm? That appears to be the question The answer seems likely to raise a storm
Frogs
Frogs are musicians don’t you know? Love songs are their game In the marsh at night Where each species is defined by decibels All the sounds tell a story Light and hoary Of a quest in the night for a mate Have you heard them? “Kok – Karock Darling will you be my date?” Do you see what I mean about romance When the season’s alight In the marsh at night And each species is defined by decibels? It’s a chorus of love From nirvana above Just a quest in the night far and wide Have you heard them? “Goo – Garoo Sweetheart will you love me true?” But things are not what once they were In the marsh at night When the season’s right Where I recently had my fill I returned to the place I used to go And heard the silence roar Yes all the cries were still No musical encore It seemed that the place was close to Hell Completely without a decibel For the river was dry And the marsh it was no more
Little Fish
Little fish What are you doing attached to my line? You would bring me a sizeable fine Below the legal size I am not slack So I’ll put you back Back into the troubled waters I know it is hard for you You who do not thrive Who may not survive Endure the drought Or the algae Or the cotton grower’s flout But this I must do Just wish you well No other choice for you So farewell little perch May pure waters be your church As I say for you with a sigh Goodbye
Old Joe
Old Joe was a man of the plains Knew the land in drought and rains Sheared the sheep with a willing hand Was well known throughout the land None of his sheep ever needed tar But alas his wages were spent at the bar Joe’s week’s work went for eighty hours Didn’t have time for shaves or showers As life went on, things were going well Until the year the big rain fell Said the boss it’s a blow alas and alack I have no choice but to give you the sack Now that was the way old Joe was dismissed So he searched for work with hand over fist Though nothing came his way Save hunger I’m sad to say Days went by and turned into weeks Such a life is what no man seeks Then jobs acquired a whole new range As a consequence of climate change So folk came running with the planet reforming To the halls of government all were storming While Joe old Joe got a fresh invitation The chance to work in flood mitigation
Air
Memories are flimsy things Frail as air Yes air How fragile it is This invisible essence of life Entering our bodies In every moment of our time Do you remember Back in the good old days The sudden joy of fresh air Brought by the wind’s cool change At the close of a sultry day? Once in another time our air Was as pure as a nymph is fair Even though the wind was still No molecules at Hades’ will No particulate matter Was in the scatter And every breeze was a friend at play No tainted air to blister life away That was true then no one denies But now we sing another song As smoke gets in your eyes
Bush Fire
I am old but still I have a tale to tell Now walking brings me pain And I cannot move too well Heat affects my breathing in a nasty way Pain comes to stay That is why fire’s a phobia for me ’Twas a grim foe in the past you will agree Ask any saint While In modern times it is not subtle It tells you it is coming First smoke on the horizon A nervous thing to put your eyes on Then it darkens the drab sun’s glow Glowering over things below You smell its breath like a garlic feast Next you see the light of the beast Gleeful fingers too big to miss The hose of a fireman is a Manneken Pis Nullified by smoke, swishing off And then with a scoff comes the wrath The house cries out as it falls apart Digits of fire strike through its heart Throwing bits of what once was a home Killing even the garden gnome This fire is a rumble in the jungle Even the world appears to crumble Small pieces fly up one at a time While the heavy wreckage completes the crime And turns the carpet of ashes To smoky mist with a hundred crashes And blooms of fumes that swiftly redden Make the site an Armageddon Until the rage goes free Leaving behind the tattered remainders and me
Flight of Swans
See how they fly Majestic birds Helping each other in a pattern Of windswept ease A V for victories See how this one flies Differently It’s V for venadium Dust and fumes in the air They cause pulmonary despair And oedema everywhere Dear lovely birds Why do you fly? Is it attraction or distraction? Does the atomic number 23 Turn turn the present into history? Can you trust the air’s rungs? Is the steel they harden More important than your lungs? Questions without answers Are a part of life today Answers without questions Mean the world has gone astray
Lonely Man
There is a man We’ve been in touch for several years Though I have not seen him of late He is forced to live in solitude A pathetic victim of hate Let us be more direct – Internment without walls That’s better That meets the alignment Of this man’s confinement It’s the truth about him For he is Left-Green That isolated friendless one Maligned as a clown Cast aside by his family and others In this mining town His mind is crushed by unjust abuse As he is blamed For the ploys that others use Forced to live on alone Light years away from true allies Where constant hate is his fate As all his life dreams dissipate Hate wins political contests too, thanks to The guile of torts That conjure resorts To villainous thoughts And surface values Back to him the solitary one: Lonely man Cast aside by your failure to conform I want to lead you beyond the norm And if I can visit you in your town To help bring injustice crashing down And make your torture end It will be my lasting joy Just to be your friend
Footprints On The Floor
We lost the sky one day Though the sun was shining bright It was dust And the morning turned into night The birds flew away Without delay: White ghosts of drama Sky cyclorama Get inside quickly said Mum Close the windows Close the shutters Close the doors Close everything This we did Like well drilled men-at-arms Before a battle You could smell the urgency Then the dust hit our noses Unimpeded by the closures First through the eaves And down through the ceiling holes Then past the windows shutters and doors Were they really closed? We began to cough as the dust Debased our living space Into eyes and nostrils throat and lungs Then the wind rapped on our windows and doors As if demanding entry Go away I thought As I covered my face with a handkerchief Not that it gave me much relief But ’twas a good idea at the time Time that ended in about an hour As the dust storm moved away Leaving grimy fingerprints in the kitchen sink Dust marks in the bath and basin Footprints on the floor Where we had scurried Then as we hurried and opened the door The sun was peeping through That was the time we young folk knew There was much more work to do
Spencer Tracy’s Ghost
Spencer Tracy For me an actor unsurpassed I remember in a film from the past On a quest for the Northwest Passage When the coda came Tracy made the claim That the search would not be in vain So he set off on his journey again As the film ended But failure was adrift in the air then Hope died with the word Everybody knew Everybody knew That his scheme was a dream absurd Not so today Let me say By the views of aficionados Everybody knows Everybody knows Tracy’s ghost would enjoy times changed For a hot North Pole and the ice rearranged Have proposed a pathway through And the climate will make this come true
Benjamin Franklin’s Kite
Benjamin Franklin my teacher said Took electric shocks In a storm My Dad Wouldn’t let me fly my kite That night In the last big storm at our place So I sat on the porch and watched First the thunder comes Like bugaboos playing drums Then after that noise has rent the air The lightning arrives How it startles With the thunder clashing White sheets flashing Like strobes with the staggers And then come the daggers Carving up the black sky Hitting hard somewhere nearby More sudden thunder Tears me asunder And after the flash the peal That is so real I begin to feel the fear I know the strike is somewhere near You are always afraid and glad it’s not you In your final hour Hit by the power... I learnt things in that electric world So small I had suddenly become I shrank back into the night In fright Huddled scared beside the wall Trying to get away from it all As things for me were so adverse Little me Just a speck a dot in a hostile universe
Pen Friend
My pen friend Nasheed Writes often to me From his home in the distant Maldives He’s a true soul mate So I long for his news Whenever a letter arrives We talk about life In our two different lands So often around global warming He tells me his fears About future years And the sad way the world is performing I have learnt from my friend How his land will end Underneath the ocean’s dark waters Just a mere thirty years When his home disappears According to reliable reporters So what can I do In my impotent way To stop this evolving sadness? Shall I tell the truth Or just say, “Forsooth” And accept the world’s current madness? So I meditate on the life we share And I wonder what future is waiting there Scientia: How I worship science! A true hope left to me The powerful belief that has to be As at skeptics I hurl my defiance
Obituary
Dearly Beloved We are gathered here to give thanks For lives alas departed Though sadness fills our troubled minds We shall not be fainthearted So let us all together Give praise to those now gone Today we wish for better times For all creatures living on Vale! The American Passenger Pigeon 1914 The Barbary Lion 1942 The Mexican Grizzly Bear 1969 The Caspian Tiger 1970 The Asian Kouprey 1979 The Costa Rican Golden Toad 1989 The Fijian Levuana Moth 1994 Dear friends who will be next? The tide is fast now rising for other deaths to come Up to a hundred thousand soon may hear the fatal drum So let us work together as we strive to stem the tide As we cast the unbelievers now and forever aside _____________** ______________
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Royce Levi Australian Teacher and Author 