Gold does not buy everything,

COINS

FOTO – URUNGA BAKERY

A Man’s Hobby

A rare old coin
is a happy find;
Each one added
helps content the mind.

Some like copper
nickel, silver, and gold;
I’ll go for anything
that’s valuable and old.

Our wives think we are nuts,
and sort of dry and lazy;
The security we offer
might even seem quite crazy.

They think each time we invest
a dollar or maybe ten;
Their wardrobe should be extended
and really — to no end.

The poor girls don’t realize,
the dough we did save;
Until they plant us
deep down in our grave.

And only then, after planted,
they will thank us.
For the money we saved,
Our effort soon forgotten
for the fine road we have paved.

Author unknown

http://www.lowcountrycoins.com/pages/coin-collector-poem.html

“Come out of there my noble man” came the voice of Sergeant Small “I have trapped you very nicely – you’ve ridden for a fall”

http://railwaysongs.blogspot.com.au/2008/11/sergeant-small-or-down-and-outback.htmlBELLO POLICE

FOTO – BELLINGEN POLICE STATION IN SPRINGTIME

“I get it,’ said the prisoner. ‘Good Cop, Bad Cop, eh?’
If you like.’ said Vimes. ‘But we’re a bit short staffed here, so if I give you a cigarette would you mind kicking yourself in the teeth?”


― Terry Pratchett, Night Watch

Every road leads to Home.

RALEIGH

FOTO- THE COTTAGE VALERY ROAD RALEIGH

Love in a Cottage

A cottage small be mine, with porch
Enwreathed with ivy green,
And brightsome flowers with dew-filled bells,
’Mid brown old wattles seen.

And one to wait at shut of eve,
With eyes as fountain clear.
And braided hair, and simple dress,
My homeward step to hear.

On summer eves to sing old songs,
And talk o’er early vows.
While stars look down like angels’ eyes
Amid the leafy boughs.

When Spring flowers peep from flossy cells.
And bright-winged parrots call,
In forest paths be ours to rove
Till purple evenings fall.

The curtains closed, by taper clear
To read some page divine,
On winter nights, the hearth beside,
Her soft, warm hand in mine.

And so to guide through busy life,
Like some small brook alone,
That winds its way ’mid grassy knolls,
Its music all its own.

Daniel Deniehy (first published 1847)]

The world is like a staircase ; some go up, others go down.

ANNANDAKE STAIRS

FOTO – STAIRCASE IN ANNANDALE

Mother to Son

BY LANGSTON HUGHES

Well, son, I’ll tell you:
Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
It’s had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
Bare.
But all the time
I’se been a-climbin’ on,
And reachin’ landin’s,
And turnin’ corners,
And sometimes goin’ in the dark
Where there ain’t been no light.
So boy, don’t you turn back.
Don’t you set down on the steps
’Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.
Don’t you fall now—
For I’se still goin’, honey,
I’se still climbin’,
And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

Langston Hughes, “Mother to Son” from Collected Poems. Copyright © 1994 by The Estate of Langston Hughes. Reprinted with the permission of Harold Ober Associates Incorporated.

FROM http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/177021

Two lovers in the rain have no need of an umbrella. Japanese

kathy

KATHY IN RALEIGH 2011

how many umbrellas or love letters

by Richard James Allen

 

how many umbrellas have I lost in my lifetime – left in the pristine

foyers of yoga centres, in the muddy corners of coffee shops, in the

mysterious worlds that exist under the seats in bus shelters, dangling

like bats off park benches?

 

                                                     I imagine each of these umbrellas, all dead and forgotten now of course, as giant origami love letters, which people I don’t know opened to the plunging sky with delight and relief.

 

looking back, these random forgetfulnesses may have been the major contribution of my life, popping up in the lives of others like the tips of islands emerging in a world where the sea levels are actually dropping to save beautiful but bedraggled shipwrecked wayfarers in a lost play by a man still named Bill.

 

And then

 

the rainless dawn.

Commended in the 2013 Dangerously Poetic Byron Bay Writers Festival Poetry Prize.

http://www.writreview.com.au/how-many-umbrellas-or-love-letters-by-richard-james-allen.html

Better to have a friend on the road than gold or silver in your purse. French.

007

VALERY ROAD RALEIGH. IZZY’S LAST RUN.

“What you’ve done becomes the judge of what you’re going to do – especially in other people’s minds. When you’re traveling, you are what you are right there and then. People don’t have your past to hold against you. No yesterdays on the road.”

William Least Heat Moon

http://matadornetwork.com/bnt/50-most-inspiring-travel-quotes-of-all-time/

Por donde va la mar, vayan las arenas. Where the sea goes let the sands go.

SPANISH

SAF NB

FOTO- SAF AT NORTH BEACH 2011 

“Every time we walk along a beach some ancient urge disturbs us so that we find ourselves shedding shoes and garments or scavenging among seaweed and whitened timbers like the homesick refugees of a long war.”

 Loren Eiseley

Let every one sweep before his own door.

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BILAMBIL COTTAGE 2008

DEBORAH DIGGES.

I have loved the broom I took into my hands
and crossed the threshold to begin again,
whose straw I wore to nothing,
whose shaft I could use to straighten a tree, or break
across my knee to kindle the first winter fire,
or use to stir the fire

http://www.randomhouse.com/knopf/authors/digges/poem.html

“Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit, wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.” ― Miles Kington

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IZZY FOREAL AT MURWILLUMBAH 2008

Tomatoes

People always ask me:

“How do you memorize all of that?”

And the truth is the first girl I ever kissed, tasted like tomatoes.

And I know this, because the second girl I ever kissed tasted like pepper.

It wasn’t unpleasant.

It’s just that I was expecting tomatoes.

SHANE KOYCZAN

http://koyczanlovers.tumblr.com/post/1729736661/tomatoes

The late ferry is leaving now; I stay to watch from the balcony

ROBERT GRAY THE LATE FERRY

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TUMBULGUM NORTHERN NSW

“And I shall watch the ferry boats, and they’ll get high, on a bluer ocean against tomorrow’s sky. and i will never grow so old again, and i will walk and talk, in gardens all wet with rain…” – Van Morrison

http://beachchairscientist.com/2012/06/08/100-ocean-quotes/

Bakuba is far away, no person ever reached it.

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MT WARNING FROM TUMBULGUM

Bakuba is an ideal country. This proverb is used as a warning against undue ambition, or as advice to be content with that which is within reach. It is equivalent to our English saying, It is no use building castles in the air.

http://www.sacred-texts.com/afr/xft/xft27.htm

Isinama ndokunamatela. I, the adhesive grass, will stick fast to you.

The isinama is a kind of grass that sticks to one’s clothing when it is touched, and can hardly be brushed off afterwards. This proverb is used as a warning to any one to avoid a bad habit or an unworthy companion that cannot easily be got rid of.

http://www.sacred-texts.com/afr/xft/xft27.htm

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Mount Warning

It was the mountain
I was always going to climb —
Swore that heat would not tire me,
Flowers and snakes could not
Poison my hands or feet:
Butcher-birds and crows become
Omens of good fortune, guides
To an undergrowth track.

Spurred on by the sight
Of the mountain, hill after hill
I climbed for a vantage point:
Felt the ice of a willow’s breath,
Touched the fire that does not burn
In a flame-tree’s midday leaves.

Its summits clouded in mist
Or the end-of-spring fires,
I walked through ploughed fields
To its foot-hills, chewed
Grass and swallowed rain-water,
Gauging its height from burnt-out stumps.
Cattle followed like a scattered procession,
Pausing at the creek.
I returned home
By a different path — plagued by
Its shape and my hesitation.

Under the cover of sunset
I opened my door to its shadow —
Abysmal at the threshold!
Prayed that winds and rain
Might wash it backwards, into
The desert overnight.

Talking to people, trailing
Mullet and catfish,
Searching creek-banks for rainbow-birds
And tortoises — day and night
The mountain haunted me
Like a dying parent’s curse.

It became the wish
I never made—the child I never had,
Promise I was not to keep,
Bible I should never open:
Tomorrow’s mountain, always there,
To be climbed without loss and fear.

Unsifted by memory for the shallows of a dream
I left the mountain like gold in a stream.

Peter Skrzynecki

“The green reed which bends in the wind is stronger than the mighty oak which breaks in a storm.” ― Confucius

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Reeds Of Innocence – Poem by William Blake

Piping down the valleys wild,
Piping songs of pleasant glee,
On a cloud I saw a child,
And he laughing said to me:

‘Pipe a song about a Lamb!’
So I piped with merry cheer.
‘Piper, pipe that song again;’
So I piped: he wept to hear.

‘Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe;
Sing thy songs of happy cheer!’
So I sung the same again,
While he wept with joy to hear.

‘Piper, sit thee down and write
In a book that all may read.’
So he vanish’d from my sight;
And I pluck’d a hollow reed,

And I made a rural pen,
And I stain’d the water clear,
And I wrote my happy songs
Every child may joy to hear.

William Blake

wind batters the weatherboards

THE OLD PROVERBIAL RECOVERY

like fists and boots thudding.
shoulders the door
again, again. Grasps the metal roof
like fingers buried in hair, yanking
it wants scalp.

Dael Allison

http://www.dangerouslypoetic.com/jean_ringland_memorial_prize_2009.php

DSCF5579

Like a top that has done spinning.

Said of one who has been humbled.

” His heart went into his boots”

A classified collection of Tamil proverbs

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Moral indignation is jealousy with a halo.” – H. G. Wells (1866-1946)

THE OLD PROVERBIAL RECOVERY

image

“Inventory:

“Four be the things I am wiser to know:
Idleness, sorrow, a friend, and a foe.
Four be the things I’d been better without:
Love, curiosity, freckles, and doubt.
Three be the things I shall never attain:
Envy, content, and sufficient champagne.
Three be the things I shall have till I die:
Laughter and hope and a sock in the eye.”

― Dorothy Parker, The Complete Poems of Dorothy Parker

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