(Mary Carolyn Davies)
Green and yellow cockatoo,
Won’t you let me talk to you?
Or if you would kinder be
Won’t you come and talk to me?
Tell me all about the places
Where the children have black faces,
Armlets, anklets, copper rings!
Where the cannibals are kings!
Has a hungry crocodile
Ever met you with a smile?
Have you taken many a trip
In a rakish pirate ship?
How I’d like to talk to you!
But as you can guess, I’d be
Gladder if you’d talk to me!
Jaya Savige: Surface to Air
To quit heroin you have to leave the country,
the novelist says with a wink.
I wonder what you would have made
of Europe. What I’d have made of junk.
I guess I’ve never truly understood
the romance of those ruins of the blood.
― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief
It is so easy to get a lot of noise out of an accordion that it is very difficult to get music out of one. In the hands of an unfeeling person or a show-off, it can be a pain to listen to. But in the hands of a sensitive person with taste and restraint — and also with a good deal of strength and power in arms and shoulders — perhaps it can be just as beautiful as any instrument. Listen to the accordions accompanying the Piatnitsky chorus on Russian folksongs, or the Louisiana cajun accordion (“windjammers” they called them — Leadbelly could play one).
Pete Seeger in his Johnny Appleseed, Jr. column in the February-March 1963 issue of Sing Out! magazine
“I wash my hands of those who imagine chattering to be knowledge, silence to be ignorance, and affection to be art.”
A snake is seen and fear is felt. She tries to kill it: "O beat him into the ground/O strike him till he dies." The snake is black and red and as he dies, "His icy glance turns outward." However the snake-killer soon realises that her enemy is not the snake but fear itself.
"The Killer" by Judith Wright
sites 2c http://www.gardendigest.com/grass.htm
foto- izzy foreal mows lawns in ulmarra for xmas 09
"A century of Australian song"
Nie chwal dnia przed zachodem słońca
Don’t praise the day before sunset
foto – sunset ulmarra dec 09
The roses are out in their summer garb, The tiger-lily is flaunting gay, The song of the lark is soft and sweet, And sweet the breath of the new-mown hay ; Over the meadows the buttercups throw Their golden sheen of summer glow, And we think of childhood’s happy home, When Christmastide was white with snow.
A CHRISTMAS CAROL.
W. R. WILLS.
"A century of Australian song"
foto – roses in ulmarra dec 09
Gathutha konagia mundu njira
A little, contemptible path is sometimes the one that leads you to the highway.
sites 2c http://muigwithania.com/proverbs/
foto – fruit in summer 09 ulmarra
Imagine, if you will, a hallway so long that it takes weeks to traverse. Imagine a labyrinth that rearranges itself in the dark, a maze of shifting walls and below freezing temperatures, whose staircases descend endlessly and whose windows open into the vacuum of non-existence. Pretty creepy, isn’t it?
Now imagine that this labyrinth is in your living room.
The Reverend Seth Ethan Carey
sites 2c http://www.jilljones.com.au/poems.html
foto – hallway in ulmarra
FRUIT IN SEASON 2: WHAT RHYMES WITH . . .
peaches? Beaches. A peach of a beach.
Gracetown in summer. A soft fur of heat
over bodies. The water, icy. Exploding
gently on legs as fruit in the mouth.
Sand the texture of peach stone: gritty,
rough. China, a memory refracted
through tropics: small fat god, white beard,
riding a deer. A Chinese Santa Claus.
In his hand, the fruit of which we speak:
Australia- Poetry International Web
foto – summer fruit in ulmarra dec 09
Look to this day,
The very life of life,
In its brief course lies all
The realities and varieties of existence,
The bliss of growth,
The splendour of action,
The glory of power.
For yesterday is but a dream,
And tomorrow is only a vision.
But today well lived,
Makes every yesterday
A dream of happiness
And every tomorrow
A vision of hope.
Look well, therefore,
To this day.
foto – bilambil dec 2008
"The fakir upon his bed of nails is happier than is that
Toughness of hide could blunt more ills,
Than can be dodged or fought,
The lesson is well taught.
And happiness, pivoted elate
On peace of mind, health, sleep,
Food kindered, good support like that
Knows to where wounds can creep
Or suddenly sink deep."
Robert D Fitzgerald. “Glad World”
"My grandmother is over eighty and still doesn’t need glasses. Drinks right out of the bottle." Henny Youngman
Alternative Reel http://www.alternativereel.com/index.php
FIMBO YA MAONYO HUADHIBU. NGU.
The stick of warnings hurts. It punishes when you do not listen to warnings.
Center for African Studies
University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign
foto – iluka pelicans dec 09
Give my words sun and rain,
desert and heat and mist,
spring flowers, and dead grass,
blue sea and dusty sky
Ian Mudie (1911-1976):
foto – mists over ulmarra farmhouse dec 09
Yesterday is but a dream, tomorrow but a vision. But Today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness, and every tomorrow a vision of hope. Look well, therefore to this Day.
foto – kathryn at kati b’s baby shower bellingen dec 2009
It is too late to write them now –
The ancient fire is cold;
No ardent lights illume the brow,
As in the days of old.
I cannot dream the dream again;
But, when the happy birds
Are singing in the sunny rain,
I think I hear its words.
After Many Years
foto – iluka apartments dec 09
sites 2c http://www.fullbooks.com/An-Anthology-of-Australian-Verse1.html
The sailors say ’twill be rough to-night,
As they fasten the hatches down,
The south is black, and the bar is white,
And the drifting smoke is brown.
The gold has gone from the western haze,
The sea-birds circle and swarm –
But we shall have plenty of sunny days,
And little enough of storm
Will. H. Ogilvie.
foto – ulmarra storm dec 09
site 2c http://www.fullbooks.com/An-Anthology-of-Australian-Verse4.html
When diet is wrong medicine is of no use.
When diet is correct medicine is of no need.
foto – new leaf cafe murwillumbah nsw dec 09
sites 2c – http://www.lindsayrabbitt.com/index.php?Home
There’s no doubt she was out with one of them and went further than she meant, but if you make your bed you must lie on it.
1921 A. P. Herbert House by River
foto – bilambil cottage dec 2008
a fine glow lights up
your lazy limbs and the nerves
drop away. Behind the blue horizon
a boat disappears, popular mysteries
begin. Your lips fade. You’re
asleep, and thoroughly happy.
TRANTER. POPULAR MYSTERIES.
foto – lamp at bilambil cottage dec 09
sites 2c – http://www.austlit.com/a/tranter-je/poems.html
There is always a moment in childhood when the door opens and lets the future in.
foto – urunga cousins in the 1980s
PILLARS OF SALT
We always look back,
attracted by that feeling
of having been there before
foto – coffs harbour shopping centre dec 09
sites 2c – http://australia.poetryinternationalweb.org/piw_cms/cms/cms_module/index.php?obj_id=744&x=1
Often I sit, looking back to a childhood
Mixt with the sights and the sounds of the wildwood,
Longing for power and the sweetness to fashion.
Lyrics with beats like the heart-beats of passion;
Songs interwoven of lights and of laughters
Borrowed from bell-birds in far forest rafters.
HENRY KENDALL BELLBIRDS.
foto – monique and kathryn at kati b’s baby shower in bello dec 2009
sites 2c – http://www.quotegarden.com/laughter.html