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Author Archives: sean@bogie
Tableland Talk, August 2019
Click on the link
http://strathbogie.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/07/201908_nws_TT.pdf
Said Prospero, “Every third thought shall be of my grave.”
What Prospero said should not be decried
Give death its rightful standing in our lives
As a lens through which to view the good for which we strive
To ponder temporal versus the eternal that is always nigh
To elevate appreciation and despondency defy
And so, when vibrant youth immortality implies
When healthy vigour makes the future glisten in our eyes
When happiness is at its peak with all that it supplies
When prosperity creates opportunity many are denied
When security is such that all our fears it belies
Take a moment to remember it is only life that dies
Value life through death as on times fleeting wings it flies
The mind that honours death values life on high
Living the sci fi dream
I’m living the sci fi dream,
so it seems.
Where we understand the choices
and know what they mean.
Yet still sleepwalk into disaster
amongst the silent screams.
How to quell Dragon fire
As liquescent a structure as ere had been born
Fluid in movement ancient evil forlorn
It rose from the surface as broken and torn
Through mirror like glaze the ragged head formed
Then took on the shape of mythological dread
The hunter and the scourge of the living and dead
Seeking blood and soul for a hunger ne’er fed
It rose every night from its hoard of a bed
The villages around at its mercy enslaved
To its will and its service when it sped from its cave
Deep within lake water cold as the grave
And it sought for its prey along tarns stoney shore
Cold hard rocks gave purchase to the legs at its fore
As snakelike behind it writhed serpentine lore
Dripping mucous dropped from the rank fetid maw
Scales of hard metal shed the pallid moonlight
Keen black eyed pupils pierced the night as if bright
Those who saw cringed at the terrible sight
Menacing and malignant beast’s cold beating heart
Razor like claws black knives of the dark
Terror inducing roar shaped the growl of blight’s bark
Spiked tail that it whipped left brutal spike’s mark
The villagers knew it would come just a matter of when
They planned and they schemed in their way of men
But against such a dragon who could they send?
When so many had tried and then failed again
One day came a stranger of the land of yore
So it seemed by his weapons and the clothes that he wore
Confidently speaking with the villagers he saw
Not intending to stay as he travelled some more
But the people saw a chance to hold him by law
And they plotted his detention by creating a score
As a bond so he’d fight at the dragon’s front door
A maiden they ‘suaded of rape she would cry
Of shame and dishonour and that he should die
They held him in prison for a year and a day
They said they’d release him swore on their shades
If he’d fight the dragon and marry the maid
Before he would agree to do things their way
He thought and thought how the dragon he’d play
And a plan took some shape as he thought that he may
They fitted him with fine armour a new double edged sword
They released him to freedom as a man of his word
And he stood proud and strong in the sunlight en guarde
The road to the cave was hard wearing stone
The chill of the wind cut to the bone
He was cold and was tired as he advanced on beast’s throne
The dragon saw him come as many had before
It counted the notches three score and four
It drooled and it schemed as it watched from haunt’s core
The stranger he’d come from the land of the Goth
Where courage and valour were never enough
Shrewdness and cunning were part of his troth
His weary limbs clambered to the lake mountain loft
He spelled at the mouth of the ravager’s chamber
Took sustenance, slept and awoke with more vigour
For the maid who truly loved him gave magicked liquor
He advanced down the passage to scents of rot and despair
Knowing his fate awaited down there
Each step his last as he rounded each corner
Each shelter inadequate behind massive boulders
Fetid smoke clung to the walls and ceiling of each room
Grey light only to guide him through darkness and gloom
With the breathing of the dragon loud all to soon
His sense of foreboding filled the space as a tomb
Then the roof disappeared the walls out of sight
A gilded shape on the floor sparked as stars in the night
And the massiveness of the creature depicted such might
The stranger sang noble songs to himself to fend off his fright
Apparently sleeping he skirted the great shape
Hidden partially by his stealth and the grey of his cape
He sought out a soft spot near the neck or the nape
As he held out his sword and shielded behind plate
The dragon knew he was there as a dog knows a flea
Playing fearlessly with the stranger nonchalantly
Arrogant in its power of vast energy
To kill with a furnace quick violent deadly
The dragon’s eye was a slit tracking the moves of the stranger
The stranger was calming unaware of the danger
As he prowled and he sought with the skills of a ranger
The dragon plotted its move as for a babe in a manger
A flick of the tongue burnt much as acid
A drop of saliva turned all fresh meat rancid
The tip of its tail was as sharp as a lance head
It’s chances of murder it very much fancied
The stranger noted the eye movement below the eyelid
He realised under veil of sleep a wakeful dragon hid
And he thought of his plan to play the dragon with a bid
He called to the dragon. “I know you are awake you cunning thing
And I think I can beat you, of lake mountain I’ll be king
Because I have something you have not, a secret magic ring
The only way to use it is with the magic words I sing
Now the greedy dragon was curious and true to dragon lore
It wanted answers fast it cut to the core
Because if there is one thing a dragon must have to adore
It is the thing it hasn’t got because a dragon always wants more
The dragon gave up its ruse of gentle breath and sleeping
It stirred its mighty body to a better position for peeping
It opened its emerald eye to seek the ring it should be keeping
And followed the agile stranger over dragon’s hoard leaping
The ring he said I hold with me has power to turn lead to gold
If you can sing the song of the ring I’ll bring it from its fold
And you will have riches beyond all the riches of times old
But in exchange for the ring I challenge you, your fire must go cold
Three questions you can ask me to learn the words to sing
If you learn the words I’ll give up the power of the ring
If you don’t you will give me what the people want to know
How to quell your fire until it’s cold as snow
The dragon thought on this and being arrogant and mighty
It took up the challenge knowing it’s intelligence to be weighty
To beat a human would come easily and the ring it did so want
There was no fear of losing when it was effectively savant
Question 1 Where are the songs words to be found that I might read them?
Answer 1 They are unwritten in my memory is where I keep them
Question 2 What do they say that I might use them for myself?
Answer 2 They say that only I may use them or give them for another’s health
Question 3 When my health is so good, how may I learn the song please?
Answer 3 When you ask without threat and villager’s wishes you appease
The dragon considered pondered deep long and ready to refute
Then It came to a decision to make the whole discussion moot
Why not agree to these conditions accept riches share the wealth?
After all it had so much was tired of loneliness and stealth
Not to mention it still had home hearth and many years of health
I withdraw the threat of storming fire and death
If you share the rings secret I will quell my breath
If we can all manage this land without suffering for all
I will accept the people’s offer I answer yes to their call
Th stranger sighed the deepest sigh ever heard from any man
As the weight of responsibility lifted and he raised his hand
Friend dragon unto you I make this oath.
We will share the wealth of our land from coast to coast
With that he turned to go to find his way back
Aware that the peace of the land was now a fact
A new purpose was in him with promise of a new life
Ahead lay a new community a new home a new wife
And he sang the song of the ring as he wearily trudged to the town
As each foot passed the other as each mile passed going down
“I sing the song of the power ring
For turning lead into gold
The ring that sings of powerful things
That only the truest can hold
For lead be lead and gold be gold
And none can change the two
Except the one who can answer the question of
How to share wealth away from the few?”
A cosy refuge on a cold winter’s night
Image
History will judge
Aside
This may be the last of the best of times for much of humanity. This may be the first of the worst of times for indigenous animals and plants. SM
June Tableland Talk is now online
To read the monthly Newsletter of the Strathbogie Plateau click the link below http://strathbogie.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/05/201906_nws_TT.pdf
Frightened humans
Acting on fear
Fear to employ
What they hold dear
Prepared to destroy
Where is the value in life?
Aside
Life has value when you choose to be interested and active.
The Weedy Seadragon
Image
Victoria’s marine emblem.
Birding in Iron Bark country
Joining Murray Goulburn Birdlife has been a treat. Sharing birdwatching with friendly experts in the field guides you to locations of wonder and delights the senses in the process. Visiting the Rushworth / Whroo iron bark country on a perfect autumn day after the big dry might not have secured as many species sightings as some of the more experienced would have liked. However, I just love being out there, exploring a new landscape, appreciating its special features and every bird is a bonus.
Sublime
Soft touch
Soft lips
Hug held
Soft hips
So precious
Sublime
So perfect
All mine
Alfred Nicholas Gardens in Autumn
Gallery

This gallery contains 46 photos.
A beautiful public garden in Victoria’s Dandenong Ranges. Continue reading
A frenzied feed
I initially thought I had come across an introduced black rat feeding on a cockatoo carcass in the Seven Creeks. However, as I approached more closely I saw the tell tale white tip and webbed feet. You can see the tale tip swishing in the water. It was a smallish rakali with a big appetite and keen to eat as much as it could as fast as it could. So keen in fact, it didn’t notice me standing above it,
Mistletoe
mistletoe on ceramic tile. pencil, indelible, carbon and crayon
Shades of Strathbogie
Visitors to Strathbogie see
Verdant hills of rolling green
Vast tors shaped fantastically
Amongst which sprites roam unseen
The tales are told of ancient times
When across the landscape and in the glens
First Nations travelled along song lines
For sustenance, spirit and their ken
Their spectres still hunt the Tableland
Taking what’s needed leaving the rest
Some of us glimpse their wraithlike bands
Ghosts flitting through trees as spirit mist
Their home the forest barely survives
The existence they shared quickly fades
Both cut down by lethal scythes
They fell like wheat to harvest blades
Fear
I feel it behind me
stalking and faceless
skulking and malevolent
The hairs on the back of my neck
stand on end
like highly sensitised
oh so brittle antennae
I walk more briskly
I am tempted to run
but not tempted to tempt fate
Each step announces
a deepening sense of dread
a heightened anxiety
a rising feeling of panic
Evil is about tonight
amongst the chill night air
and the cold dull haloes
of the too distant streetlights
There it is again
The faintest of scrapings
rapid and sequential
advancing along the pavement behind me
Demonic footsteps of malicious intent
portents of pain and suffering
They strain my hearing to the point
of questioning whether I hear anything at all
but I know they are there
coming
closing
My eyes dart urgently
from side to side
A tic
twitches my cheek
I am shaken to my core
I startle at a moth that brushes my cheek
My head flicks left
My head flicks right
My fully dilated pupils
black as any pit in hell
scream at me for more light
and scour the edges of darkness
for a bolt hole
Sanctuary
any hope to cling too
Peripheral vision
reams in the sidelines
desperately seeking refuge
struggling to see ahead and aside at the same time
Sweat begins
to bead my brow
Cold sweat
Shivers
wrack my body
I begin to whimper
I don’t want to hurt
to plead for my life, my soul
for mercy
I don’t want to die alone
I don’t want to die here
and now
A movement
in the corner of my eye
I stumble in fright
miss the kerb
roll my ankle
The pain shoots up into my calf
and something tears
I gasp
My flight becomes hobbled
I limp on in fear
dragging my injured foot
scraping the rubber of the sole
on the hard surface
of coarse concrete
Then
comes the first touch
An icy point
A razor-sharp prickle
pierces my jacket
In one swift motion
needlelike it penetrates the fabric
just breaking the surface of my skin
From my lower back
a cold finger of ice
tracks a paralyzing pathway
up toward my right shoulder
Muscles cramp
then seize
into an excruciating knotted strip
of rock solid pain
Futile teardrops begin to fall
I sob in absolute horror
and misery
“Oh God, help me, somebody help me!”
I wheel
there is nothing there
The second touch
burns
as a keenly sharp edge
slices a clean shallow line
fully across my left cheek
This one is hot
like dry ice
The blood flows
as thick warm syrup
It makes its way down my pallid face
mixing with the tears and snot of fear
dripping onto my stained clothes
gluey on my hands
I didn’t even sense the blade coming
let alone what wielded it
Dread wells up inside me
threatens to overwhelm me
I pursue escape
from terrifying pursuit
The road is empty
straight
as far as the opaque darkness
allows my eyes to see
Where pavement ends
terraformed tracts of bare earth begin
A homeless housing estate
At the periphery of illumination
feebly provided by each dreary streetlight
is murk
thick with ominous foreboding
It envelops the world
on this souless, moonless night
Hope fades
The third touch
is a heavy thump
in the small of my back
It cripples me
I stagger
It is all I can do not to collapse
I must stop to breathe
to fall on my haunches
straining to fill my airless lungs
I double over
when I need to stand
I pause
when I need to run
I falter
when I need courage
I give into weakness
when I need to find strength
I heave
when I need to draw breath
The fourth touch
comes as a surprise
Desperately preoccupied with surroundings and survival,
my head and neck are parted,
as I miss the prophecy of imminent death
but fleetingly register
oh timely release
oh sweet oblivion
Ipad pencil sketching experiment

a worried look
Savoured Moments #1
I wake at 4 in the morning
In the small hours
When small things matter
and ideas can repeat in your brain
taking on more significance than they deserve
eroding your ability to unwind
Like a tap dripping in the next room
But not this morning
This morning it is soft rain I hear
gently tinkling on the metal
of the carport roof outside
It is warm under the covers
I feel secure
as your soft regular breathing resumes
after you roll onto your side next to me
Was it an interrupted dream?
I like not knowing everything that goes on in your head
After all these years you can still surprise me
I snuggle up to your back
and rest my forehead between your shoulder blades
As I contemplate what it is to be us
your heels settle into the angle of my ankles
your calves align with my shins
your thighs mold to mine
and your backside schmoozes deliciously into my groin
I raise my head to create more space
so I can wrap my arms around you
pulling your upper body into mine
As my arms embrace your warmth
I soak up your textures
I draw in your smell
With my eyes closed
I sense every point at which we touch
I feel our body rhythms synchronise
as my muscles relax
and my mind smiles
with the intimate pleasure
of as much body contact as we can muster
I savour the moment
as peaceful sleep reclaims me
Hopkin’s Falls, Victoria
Image
A pretty spot for a pretty shot
The Bees
I walk under the flowering trees
I hear a mighty incessant drone
The canopy is filled with bees
The bees that pollinate our homes
A gift from flower to flower they spread
The food chain thrives and grows
They keep all animals and people fed
With pollen transfer and honey flows
At our peril we ignore their plight
Bees are dying around the world
As they depopulate out of sight
Desiccated bodies shrivel and curl
We blithely march into the future
Pesticide monoculture deforestation
While bees cooperate store and nurture
We blithely march toward desolation
Save the bees should read the banner
The banner we have left unfurled
Plant more trees in every manor
Preserve this insect and save the world
David Hockney on iPad (someone had to do it)
David Hockney on iPad copied from the NGV Mag cover photo Nov/Dec 2016
Andrews Government #IntlForestDay legacy – failure to protect native forests
Gallery

This gallery contains 4 photos.
Originally posted on Our Strathbogie Forest:
On 2019 International Day of Forests, Save our Strathbogie Forest group calls on the Victorian Government to show leadership on protecting our native forests for their increasingly urgent roles in mitigating the climate crisis…
33 kinds of rain
The misting rain as light as being
The pitter patter rain of anticipation
The sun shower rain of joyfulness
The dawn lit rain of new awakenings
The driving rain of persistent harassment
The piercing rain of pain and hurt
The bleak rain of uncertainty
The saturating rain of grief
The pounding rain of anger
The cold rain of fear and loathing
The persistent rain of melancholy
The drought breaking rain of celebration
The tropical rain of surprise and relief
The tin roof rain of night time snuggles
The slanting rain of getting under your skin
The fat wet rain of things to come
The dull rain of misery
The easing rain of hope for a day
The sheeting rain of washing your sins away
The aerosol rain that never settles
The eddying rain of indefinite endings
The ominous rain of growing darkness
The thunder laden rain of shock and awe
The storm driven rain of nature’s authority
The drenching rain of no escape
The floating rain of disproportionate outcomes
The harrowing rain of oppression and spite
The lightning flash rain of vision burned
The unexpected rain of scrambling for shelter
The flooding rain of tears
The icy rain of an unknown future
The sleety rain of chilled to the bone
The sunlit rain of clarity of purpose
The dancing rain of swirling possibilities
The evening rain of contemplation
The elemental rain of fundamental outcomes
The cloaking rain of secrecy
The wispy rain of dissipation
The hard rain of death
The transparent rain of release
The soft rain of peace