Attribution: Creative Commons Licence
Vivat membrum quodlibet,
Vivat membra quaelibet;
Semper sint in flore!(May they always flourish)
I have a dream
That I might seem
A joyous learnèd scholar
But now I fear I’ll be left on a shelf
Because of the cursèd dollar
Please if you can, give to me
Some details of the cost
So I can seek an epitome
And my time will not be lost
As my thoughts unwind I fly
In my mind around the earth
To learn the sanctified story
Of the ages before my birth
But as I strive for this glory
There’s a scheme I may deplore
If I study history
Tell me, will it cost me more?
Other thoughts disturb me
As they kindle new dark fears
If I read for poetry
Will my invoice be in arrears?
What about philosophy?
Should I look for a deal
Or failing this, episcopacy
For cheaper religious zeal?
Another thought to cross my mind
Is a course in Egyptology
Will that expense mean I must find
My only recourse is psychology?
Now Shakespeare is a passion of mine
To be or not to be
Will the Bard be a virtual fine
And leave me in penury?
O why O why is my humble voice
Linked to the churls of finance?
Why must I fear that my student choice
Is the reason I’m held askance?
There comes a time in a world sublime
When critics are meticulous
If the chief does a deed sans reason or rhyme
It is rightfully branded ridiculous
And so kind sir I take my leave and comment on your service
You have shown me the cost when freedom is lost
And made me extremely nervous
So I will be off highly tempted to scoff yet retaining my decorum
Though every semester will demand an investor
The seers of good sense will ignore ’em… gaudeamus igitur
An Impolite Message
Let us shut our eyes
And talk about the weatherGilbert and Sullivan: The Pirates of Penzance
Begone dull fool
And take your great lies with you
Science should be a tool
Not a horse without a tether
You must obey one rule
If you talk about the weather
Evidence my friend
Gives you the right to speak
God’s truth you must defend
Or your influence is weak
You prattle with divergencies
Designed to hide reality
Describing the emergencies
With constant bleak banality
Meanwhile the world is in a spin
With drought and fire and storm
While you proclaim with a sickly grin
It’s nothing but the norm
You spread falsehoods like jam on bread
A kind of last repast
If you have your way we’ll all be dead
False colours nailed to the mast
You lie about this you lie about that
With flights of fancy forming
Your status is slightly less than a rat
In the light of global warming
You tell tall tales and play your role
To keep the trade fires burning
While the future of man falls into a hole
With the wheels of industry turning
Thus the air we love suffers above
In a surplus of CO𝟸
You gently tweet like a turtle dove
But not a word is true
So be on your way you devious worm
Before I grind you to pieces
Or you’re put away for a sizeable term
As all that you’ve said is so specious
That’s it; that ends my harangue
Now I’ll brush you away with a duster
So you’ll disappear with a bang
Caught up in a Southerly Buster*
*Only one thing left to say…Have a nice day.
Concerning My Black Armband
Please come in…
Take a seat…
Now we can be
Relaxed and comfortable
What’s all this mystery about history
Not getting your attention
As in your world
Only business gets a mention?
Is not the now
A child of what once was?
And does not time present
Beat the drum for time future?
Were you there
When they chose to free Barabbas?
Did you seek to count the dead at Peterloo?
Did you take a breath of deadly gas at Ypres?
Have you heard of the mournful Creek named Waterloo?
Have you seen the fine Enola Gay display?
Did you notice genocide down Dresden way?
Have you found the reason yet for Vietnam’s war?
Was Rwanda an evil Hell or something more?
Were you swept away by the grief of 9/11?
Or by King Leopold’s Congo paean of greed?
Does Death still line the battered streets of Yemen?
Does the Unknown Soldier extol a futile deed?
So many questions pound upon the brain
And conjure forth more pity than disdain
O must we not rap with hope on history’s door
If madness is to hold its sway no more?
For the sake of countless lives that were destroyed
Bygone lessons have to be deployed
There is so much from early days to master
Lest present follies lead us to disaster
O brother, why look you so aghast?
The choice is yours, there’s guidance in the past
And if I fail to change your point of view
The old will quickly vilify the new
So tell me please, just what do we need to do?
What think you, pray?
Can yesterday be relevant today?
Your words are what I feared to hear you say
So on my own I’ll scan the ages proudly
Begone my friend; it’s time you went away
Leave quickly ere I curse your mind more loudly
In ways that are unbecoming…
On The Matter of Waterloo Creek
The massacre at Myall Creek was just one of a sequence of violent events that accompanied settler expansion in the Gwydir region of north-eastern NSW in the 19th century.
While it is likely that only a fraction of the violence is recorded in the conventional historical record, it is telling that a contemporary authority and eyewitness, Muswellbrook police magistrate Edward Denny Day, termed this conflict ‘a war of extermination’.
Violent attacks increased in savagery towards the latter part of the decade. The summer of 1837–38 was particularly violent. Major James Nunn, the Commandant of the New South Wales Mounted Police, had been sent from Sydney to lead a punitive expedition against the Aboriginal people who had killed stockmen in separate incidents of Frontier conflict.
His response, however, was extreme. On 26 January 1838 Nunn and his men massacred up to 50 Aboriginal people camped at Waterloo Creek (my bold). They also encouraged nearby stockmen and settlers to murder any Aboriginal person they came across.
Source: https://www.nma.gov.au/defining-moments/resources/myall-creek-massacre National Museum Australia
I accidentally Liked this post and haven’t been able to erase it. I am not vain, just stupid. R.