We desire to bequest two things to our children – the first one is roots; the other one is wings. ~Sudan

http://www.squidoo.com/african-quotes-proverbs-and-sayings

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My heart is Round ready to echo the music of my

family but the Square

within me remains

The Square stops me in my entirety.

Ali Cobby Eckermann

“The ocean has always been a salve to my soul…the best thing for a cut or abrasion was to go swimming in salt water. Later down the road of life, I made the discovery that salt water was also good for the mental abrasions one inevitably acquires on land. Jimmy Buffett

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The Queenslander (Brisbane, Qld. - 1866 - 1939), Saturday 10 August 1895,

TO My Soul. (1895, August 10). The Queenslander (Brisbane, Qld. : 1866 – 1939), p. 257. Retrieved January 24, 2014, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article21634887

Remember that imagination is the faculty of the soul and that when it suggests new pathways to us we are being invited to explore the territory of the soul in ways that will certainly change and re enchant us.

– Caitlin Matthews

 

She laughs and whispers ‘Arrangkwe just 2 pelicans in the sky!

I drive out to Amoonguna to tell the family he

is right

I sit down with his Aunty, round the campfire, in

the night

I ask her to explain the pelicans and the meaning

of the sign

She laughs and whispers ‘Arrangkwe just 2 pelicans

in the sky!

Ali Cobby Eckermann

URUNGA SEA LIDO 2014

foto – urunga sea lido january 2014

Carefree by Samuel Wagan Watson

you’d never forget the pelicans
because it was their home too
and that occasional one who’d try and swallow your baited hook
while we cast out into an endless mould of brown and blue skin
sometimes catching our line in its enormous and clumsy wingspan
floating around the jetty constantly boasting that huge gullet
so close to the pylons covered in poinson oyster shells
that waited for the bare flesh within our gait,
inviting our bare flesh to dance
Mum worried that we’d get sick from eating them
Day saying the sewage from the caravan park
would sometimes flow near where we fished
and that they oysters bathed in it too

little buckets of a few bream
silver catch of a meal
and the persistent cats at our ankles
lapping up the smell
running up past the shop
a front window necropolis of stonefish in vegemite jars
suspended in a vault of clear alcoholic brine
still deadly in death
and us in bare feet all the time
three kids in stonefish-infested mud
playing Russian roulette –
one good pair of running shoes between us

Source:  Smoke Encrypted Whispers  by Samuel Wagan Watson Univ. of Queensland Press, 2004

I smell the whiskey on your breath. And you beg for me to put your temper to the test. You slap me around, and call me names. Mom, I’m sick of playing these games.

Please Stop, Mom. © Kayla S. BirdnoDRUNKENNESS BANISHED1 1 1 1 1 1 1 The Daily News (Perth, WA - 1882 - 1950), Tuesday 8 August 1950,

The Daily News (Perth, WA : 1882 – 1950), Tuesday 8 August 1950,

http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article84473769

It is the only thing that knows us, all the crannies, the secret places where the caulkers have not reached, where the weevils hide; it sees all.

http://www.hotsdots.com/poetry/author/mduwell/

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I want to hide something from the humans until they are ready for it. It is the realisation that they create their own reality

http://blog.gaiam.com/quotes/authors/native-american-proverb

I won’t let anybody take a drink out of this barrel of tears I’ve collected from you.

Barrels

BY BARBARA GUEST

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/238236

 

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There’s nothing as heartening as the sight of an empty pub in the morning, the shelves full and everything spick and span before the barbarian hordes come in. Them that drinks bottles spoil the look of the shelves but draught is a different story – you never see the barrel going down.

Patrick McGinley

 

http://infohost.nmt.edu/~armiller/beer/beersay.htm

People who hold on to resentment are hurting themselves a great deal, and they usually don’t even see it.

http://www.livinglifefully.com/resentment.html

 

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One cannot always keep an adder in one’s breast to feed one, nor rise up every night to sow thorns in the garden of one’s soul.”
― Oscar Wilde, Complete Works of Oscar Wilde