Category Archives: DEEDS

The tiger takes the leap, the eagle spreads its wings

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Mr Smith by D.H. Souter

“Mr. Smith of Tallabung
Has very wicked ways.
He wanders off into the bush
And stays away for days.

He never says he’s going;
We only know he’s gone.
There’s lots of cats like Mr. Smith,
Who like to walk alone.

He plays that he’s a tiger,
And makes the dingoes run.
He scratches emus on the legs
And plays at football with their eggs;
But does it all in fun.

And then, one day, he’s home again,
The skin all off his nose,
His ears all torn and tattered,
His face all bruised and battered,
And bindies in his toes.

He wanders round and finds a place
To sleep in in the sun,
And dream of all the wicked things
That he has been and done.

Mr. Smith of Tallabung
May be a bad cat;
But everybody likes him –
So that’s just that.”

“Australian Bush-Babs” by D. H. Souter

1 1 1 1 1 1 histoiredu00bann_0027The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 – 1954), Saturday 24 January 1931

1 1 1 1 1 1 The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW - 1842 - 1954), Saturday 24 January 1931


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The cut worm forgives the plow. William Blake.

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& like any poet
avoiding myth & message
to fake a flashy ode, consider
what model of Australia as a nation
could match the ocean, or get your desk
to resemble a beach /
it would have to function
like Tom Roberts’ Opening of the
Federal Parliament
, our nation being
a sort of awkward, academic machine—
can’t you see the feathers in my hat
& my gold striped pantaloons
as I jot this down
in the open-cut sestina form,
developing like a back-yard vegetable bed
bordered by upturned bottles,
nostalgia for a national style?
‘Oh, my hat!’ said the ADC.
‘If I hold this pose much longer I’ll collapse!’

les Murray

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Advocate (Burnie, Tas. : 1890 – 1954), Saturday 7 July 1945,

1 1 1 1 1 1 1 Advocate (Burnie, Tas. - 1890 - 1954), Saturday 7 July 1945,

“There is only one cure for grey hair. It was invented by a Frenchman. It is called the guillotine.” ― P.G. Wodehouse


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“When You Are Old”

WHEN you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.”

W.B. Yeats

The three little kittens, they lost their mittens, And they began to cry, “Oh, mother dear, we sadly fear, That we have lost our mittens.

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Confront a child, a puppy, and a kitten with sudden danger; the child will turn instinctively for assistance, the puppy will grovel in abject submission, the kitten will brace its tiny body for a frantic resistance.



I played patiently simple melodies and basic chords waiting for home where I could sink into freedom: playing by ear.

Piano Lessons


Slowly, note by steady note I practised scales:

One man gets nothing but discord out of a piano; another gets harmony. No one claims the piano is at fault. Life is about the same. The discord is there, and the harmony is there. Study to play it correctly, and it will give forth the beauty; play it falsely, and it will give forth the ugliness. Life is not at fault.

Don’t be pushed by your problems. Be led by your dreams.”

― Becca Chopra, The Chakra Diaries

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Taking the first step with the good thought, the second with the good word, and the third with the good deed, I enter paradise.

We view the paths by which our lives descended From the far past down to the present day.

Stephen Edgar.


What you’ve done becomes the judge of what you’re going to do especially in other people’s minds. When you’re travelling, you are what you are. People don’t have your past to hold against you. No yesterdays on the road.
William Least Heat Moon