Comfortably Numb

Friday April 6th.

I am usually a sentimental old fool.  One who weeps during most episodes of Dr Who.

Leaving a place has been particularly poignant for me over the years.
I have usually invested something of myself in every place I have been…
But I am no good at all at doing goodbyes.  Especially when I know there is no going back.

Today I drove out of Billiluna with the last of my remaining possessions in the back of the Troopy.   I said goodbye to only one person. Joe.  A friend who is an outsider in the community, like me.  And Zeus the dog, whom I am leaving with Joe.

I searched my psyche for some sign of emotion, but there was none. No sorrow or regret. Not even joy.  Nor satisfaction. I could not even pat myself on the back for a job well done.  I felt no anticipation for what might be next. I was empty and devoid of feeling.

I was tired. But I really had not expected I’d be so drained as to feel nothing at all.

On the drive back to Halls Creek I thought of a few more things that I had not seen when packing up.  More things that had been stolen. Most notably my UEBoom2 bluetooth speaker.

So finally I felt something.

Irritation.

So it goes.

away

 

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Paradise

“Paradise” comes from the Persian for “walled garden”.

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In My Memory Garden

In my memory garden
At the centre, under hazel
Grows a single shamrock.
A spiral path of babies’ tears
Gravels out through blackberries
Bluebells, balm and celandine
Snowdrops under oaks
A solitary silver birch
Pansies, pinks, carnations.

 

Play here amongst the toitoi
Flax, raupo, tadpoles, frogs
A tree hut in an aged willow
Sliding down a scented macrocarpa
Roses from Home
Daisy, dandelion, buttercup
Gorse and gooseberry
Mushrooms.

 

Turn
Sea-salted pohutukawa
Seaweed, rocks, sandy sedge and sunshine
Ferns, moss, forest and waterfall
Jasmine and jonquil,
Mallow and mint
Daffodil and dahlia
Yellow tulips

 

Turn again
Here are hibiscus, frangipani,
Mud, tides. corals, sands,
Tropical palms.
Crabs and coconuts.
Birds and fishes
Chirping in mangroves.

 

Return;
Kowhai, tui, fantail
Rosemary, rocket, sorrel
Bay and cultivation
Potato, bean and brussels
Moonflower, lily of the valley
Holly, wild honeysuckle, rue
Milkweed and butterflies

 

Wandering now
Wattle, Eucalyptus , bottlebrush and banksia
Jacaranda, poinciana, poinsettia; parakeets
Little dragons and honeyeaters
Spinifex and bindii

 

Turn once more, return at last
At the spiral’s end
A little thyme alone
Lichen, lilies, nightshade
And a standing stone.

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Insight

An insight into my character; I
Am the sort of person who,
If told I’ll never walk again,
Will embrace my never-walkingness
And never walk again.

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Worm

Seriously

I fear sometimes I am losing my whimsy.
The Wise man warned me not to let that happen.

What?

66

… And you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it’s sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in a relative way but you’re older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death
Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over
Thought I’d something more to say…

 Gilmour/Wright

Meaning.

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Alan of the Outback

I’ve been mad for feckin years, absolutely years, been over the edge for yonks, been working me buns off for bands….

I’ve always been mad, I know I’ve been mad, like the most of us are…very hard to explain why you’re mad, even if you’re not mad…

Nick Mason/Roger Waters

John 8:32

Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.

Starting the year with this resolution, formulated for me by Annie Reneau.

A belief, opinion, or viewpoint based on verifiably false claims is not worth my consideration. Period. Refusing to entertain them doesn’t make a person intolerant, it makes them reasonable and intelligent. Tolerating lies is ridiculous and illogical. And if your opinion is based on lies, it is invalid and it should be called out as such.

A viewpoint based on verifiably false claims is not worth my consideration.  Period.”
Especially when that opinion causes or permits harm to others.
With so many opportunities to learn the facts, crosscheck and verify them from independent and expert sources, it takes a particular combination of stupid and cognitive dissonance to continue believing bullshit.
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Even an atheist can quote the book.
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Matauri Bay

I shall pack up and leave here, move to Matauri Bay,
A cottage I shall take there, sufficient for my need
Kumara I shall grow there, fed with flotsam seaweed,
And I shall live alone there, and while my time away.

And I shall look for peace there, and take my medication,
Wander to the beach and look for shells along the shore;
Beneath pohutukawas; reveries and meditation,
In the evenings I shall read all of the books I loved before.

I will pack up and leave here, it’s time to move away
I miss the bellbirds’ chorus and the singing of the sea;
I’ll exchange the spinifex and red dust in my grey,
For a small boat; to feel the ocean rocking under me.

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This is not Matauri Bay. This is a tribute.  That’s Dave.  

©ARF

Yep. It’s derivative.  Intentionally so.

Argo

Constantine_Volanakis_Argo
The Argo, by Konstantinos Volanakis (1837–1907).

Mad and meandering mindlessly, I
Sleep now beneath her hull;
Despoiled, disintegrating,
Sinking into sand.

Share with me your bread,
Your fish.  A little wine?
In return for tales of Argo in her glory:
To Colchis and away she bore me
With my companions.

They laugh and jeer;
This is not she – nor are you he!
But tell us, once again, old man
Of Calais and of Zetes
Or of lion-robed Herakles.
A story!  While we mend our nets.

Mad and meandering mindlessly, I
Tell – nowhere now to travel, but into wandering dream –
Of Atalanta, of Hypsipyle,
Of Medea, before she became a bitch;
Of what was
Or of what might have been.

©ARF
Atalanta_Peleus_Staatliche_Antikensammlungen_596
Peleus and Atalanta wrestling, black-figured hydria, c. 550 BC
Medea about to murder her children
  Ferdinand Victor Eugène Delacroix (1798 -1863)   Medea

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hypsipyle
Johann Christian Reinhart
Hypsipyle and Opheltes-Archemoros