Consequences

 Buckling under the weight of 
opinion and condemnation
Peter fills himself with Oxycodone, 
scotch and beer chasers, then 
chases his demons at high speed 
down the straight knowing his 
confused reflexes will be too dull to 
take the curve, causing his parents 
to grieve for the rest of their 
shortened lives.

Unwilling to accept the painful 
loneliness any more Sheila jams 
the hose through the gap in 
her old Mazda’s window 
and finds slow solace 
in the monoxide mist as it 
erases her memories of 
betrayal, leaving her 
friends confounded and 
feeling guilty.

After his birthday party 
on Sunday night, 
Larry’s Saturday-night 
special becomes a 
Monday-night special 
when he places the muzzle 
in his mouth, momentarily 
pauses, then triggers the
door open to hell for himself 
and his family

In our rising up and lying down,
our going in and going out, these 
acts fracture our perspectives,
unsettle our peace and
rightfully ask How did you miss 
their loss of hope? Too late 
for apology. Far too late 
to care.

MDC

November 2020

Shopping Trolleys

 like a flock of sheep, graze 
across the field of the car 
park. Small groups and singles, 
feeding quietly, scattered randomly.

The proverbial solitary jumbuck 
lies on its side, its wheels 
hanging over the edge of 
the perimeter drain, almost

 
out of sight, clinging onto the 
herd by hugging the asphalt, 

waiting for a shepherd to rescue 
it and return it to the fold.

MDC

13/11/2020

Robbie’s Prayer

(For Robbie in hospital)

When the pain came quickly and my breath was taken.

I did not know it was you, Lord

And though in hindsight I know I was mistaken

I did not know what to do, Lord

When the pain comes slowly and I am aware

And I know you have a plan, Lord

I am determined to be in faith and not despair                    

And not be a weak man, Lord

Yet I know in weakness you are humbling me

And your thoughts for me are kindly

And though it feels like you are slaying me

My days of fear are behind me.

MDC

18/02/2014

Recovering from Concussion

1

Half-empty cups scattered through every room.

No wonder I can't find a clean one when 

making myself another coffee.  I can't 

find a clean shirt to wear and discover them 

all in the washing machine still damp from the 

cycle a few days ago.

2

The days are going very quickly or maybe 

it's because I'm sleeping so much.

4

I'm reading three (or is it four?) books at the 

moment and the plots are becoming a bit 

confusing. But the sixth one is really good!

It’s about this person who 

5

I paid a bill twice this week, or was that 

last week?  Or maybe I paid two bills 

twice, I'm not sure. 

I’m watching a new series on Netflix. I 

watched the same episode three times 

before I realised that it's not the plot that 

is slow.

6

7

I drive to the hospital (in yesterday’s clothes. I can’t 

find anything clean to wear) for my rehab appointment 

and get lost. By the time I find the right building I have 

a headache and am so confused I fail the cognitive and 

recall tests. They assure me there were five shapes I 

should recall but I’m pretty sure they didn't show me one

of them. They stop the physio test almost immediately 

and say they don't want to make things worse for me. 

They're all very kind and gentle but I can tell

they think I'm more injured than I really am.

8

My friends call me to ask how I'm going but 

I can't recall what I tell them. The next time they 

call me they tell me they realised how ill I am by 

my confusion on the previous call. I paid a bill 

twice last week.

8

I purchased an audio sound system 

from out of the back of some guy’s van in a car 

park. I arrived home feeling good about something 

I purchased for forty-five dollars. I

didn’t realise until I saw the email from 

my bank - the receipt was for $450.00

I found the speakers in the back of my car the 

next day when I went grocery shopping.

9

I got a phone call while driving into town the 

other day. When the call finished I found 

myself in a part of town I hadn’t seen for 

decades and had no memory of driving there.

10

The rehab people have put me under “house

arrest” saying I am a danger to myself and

to others. I don’t remember meeting anybody 

to be a danger to.

11

My boss rang me to see how I am going, and 

told me that everyone at work sent their 

‘Get-well-soon’ wishes. She told me that Troy 

had come around to fix something for me. 

I wonder what needed fixing?

12

All this stuff keeps arriving in the mail and on 

the courier. I don’t know who’s buying it all but 

luckily I like everything that has turned up so far.

13

I think I'll be able to go back to work on 

Monday, part-time of course, but apparently 

Monday was yesterday so it must be next

week. I think.

14

There’s four hundred and fifty dollars gone

from my bank account and I don’t know why!

MDC

October/November/December 2020

The Mystery of You

Who was it that knew to strain light through raindrops so we could see a rainbow?

And who knew that time in the centre of our spinning planet would pass more slowly than on the outer crust? 

Who was patient enough to construct the chemistry of rock so that when heated it would produce lava, and then wait patiently again for it to cool so it could be used to string spines of mountains across vast continents made from plates floating on even more molten rock? 

How long did it take for the thought to crystallise that brought about the families of kelp and the nations of krill, the armies of insects, the kingdom of beasts? 

And did the law of evaporation precede that of osmosis? Or were both a lucky happenstance birthed from mathematical musings?

Who gave such mastery to the solar winds that rust grows on our moon 384,000 kilometres from oxygen?

Who beguiled the anuran embryo to burgeon into life with face and leg and breast (and carbuncled toes, pinocchio noses and smelly arm-pits). Life that is an inscrutable mystery of chemical and physical prowess based upon a DNA helix that genetic testing is still unable to fully fathom? 

Who came up with human biorhythms, luna tides and insect calendars so complex that their knowledge is impenetrable yet they look and act like siblings - same but different? Understandable at first glance, but change just one bit and the effect on other unrelated systems is so profound as to be disturbing. 

Was the notion that calculus would be cripplingly unforgiving in its exactitude, yet be so obtuse as to confound the thinking of the majority of the population a deliberate thought or a passing whimsy? 

And why are some boundaries set as hard and fast as the wrath of God and others soft as a besotted father’s discipline of his children? Take chemistry for instance. Once the basic rules are understood a man can do anything with chemicals, including building long chain polymers and amino acids that nothing in nature can break down, so they lie around polluting everything they touch?

Who designed tears to fall at the most embarrassing times yet considers them so valuable as to save them in bottles for some future use? And what of a kiss? 

In a million years a human could not have designed the lips to be the most expressive part of our bodies, able to communicate anger with a small press, amusement with a smile, surprise with the round Oh of exclamation, disdain with ease? - not to start on the trillion other nuances the female human can project with the minutest of movement. You could ask a thousand people to write down what a kiss is, and every answer would be different, would be lacking, would be incomplete, but each one would be correct. 

Who balanced simplicity with enjoyment, effort with reward, and proclaimed that beauty would confound bullies into tongue-tied submissives.

Who was it that combined frequencies with tone and allowed music and song to exist as a result, but then confused us all by giving the act of creation of that choral extravagance to the heart? 

What is it about music that can lift sadness to a place of hope, strengthen resolve to a place of determination, galvanise laziness into action, fill a heart with dread, plummet a soul into the blue?

For all we know, and for all we will know, there seems to be an unfathomable quotient of mystery. One thing we know for certain is that there is more we don’t know than we do. 

And should we plumb the depths of all the mysteries of the universe, we are still left with the greatest mystery of all - You. For knowing that you did all these things, and knowing that you have done more than I can ever know does not allow me to take even one step towards being able to do the same.

(Ecclesiastes 3:11)
MDC
January 2021

Duet

Fire trucks and kookaburras 
sing duelling duets. The sirens, 
stertorous and serious, urge 
all to be aware of the importance 
of their work.

The birds raucous laughing, 
jocular and rambunctious, 
ignores the clamour of the firies
with derision, content to 
complete their hilarity before 
considering if the drama 
unfolding before them is  
no laughing matter.

The siren volume overpowers 
the birds, but their risible 
cackle wins hands down for 
irony

MDC

November 2020

Water Running Blue

He laughs, places the goggles over his face,

flips backwards over the side of the boat, his 

spear disappearing after him into water running blue. 

He’s done this a thousand times before. Her heart 

is warm with his laughter. She takes a breath, her 

lungs captured with the joy she feels. She finds herself 

singing as she readies the basket for his catch . 

She took courage from his experience.

It settled her fear, allowed her to relax and

discover she loved the flash of fin and scales,

the splash of silver under azure,

the quicksilver surface of

water running blue. 

She was initially worried of the sharks drawn to 

the schools. The secret is to pounce quickly, 

snatch the catch. They don’t feel a thing. He 

taught her the rhythm: he thumps the hull, she 

reaches over the side and pulls the fish from 

his spear, placing it in the basket while he goes 

down for another. 

When the fish are running he pulls the spear 

down as soon as he feels her grasp the fish. 

She has to be firm with her grip and waits 

to feel the tug as he pulls free from the catch.

They’re running today. She barely has time 

to throw the catch into the basket before he is 

thumping the hull again.

He thumps the hull, she reaches over, grabs 

the fish, feels the tug. Only when it lands in 

the basket does she see his hand, still grasping 

the spear buried deep in the fish. She looks 

over the side. Water running red.

Imogen

Ethereal zeal seeded me in 

a watery womb 

I was a wet wastrel, hunger 

my only emotion

My infant days spent dreaming in 

slivers of wind, 

my devotion the promise of rain 

Sky was my playground, clouds my toys. 

Directionless, but not without route, I went 

from meandering to wandering, 

from cruise to jet. 

I flew here and there until I was travelling 

in circles. 

I discovered I like travelling in circles,

picking the gleanings from field and yard,

fervently funneling everything into my tunnel. 

Eating makes a girl thirsty so I sucked 

on the teat of your warm seas. I fed 

my strength until my arms flailed and 

anger was discovered in my loins.

I became single-eyed in my purpose -  

for you to know the full force of 

my fists. So I came in swinging, 

a torqued ellipse, ignoring your 

futile idols, turning roofs into tinsel, 

stuffing my maw with animal, 

vegetable and mineral, your flesh 

and blood.  I caught you - a deer in 

headlights. My cyclops eye snuck up 

behind you, seized you unaware 

dreaming of a high. I vibrated your 

glass until it sang siren song -  

smithereened silver 

splintering your houses, your 

households, your hearts. I trashed 

your plans, exposed your pretense. 

I laughed at your puerile projections

Despite all the warnings you had 

no defence. 

You mumbled last rites, screamed 

your prayers, but I confronted no 

retribution and though my life was 

short it was very sweet. You will 

remember me long after I 

have gone.

And now I have gone, 

remember this as you sweep 

your streets and 

collect your dignity - I am 

not an only-child. 

My siblings long to make your 

acquaintance too.

 

The Wrong Question

My daughter dabbed and swiped, occasionally 

changing brushes. The arc of her hand 

seemed effortless but deliberate. I watched 

as the painting took on form and colour but I 

could not yet discern a meaning.

I left and returned some time later to find a 

spectacle that engrossed me. My eyes roamed 

the canvas looking for the focal point. I knew 

it was telling me something but I did not know 

what it was. “What is it meant to be”, I asked.

“Oh Dad, you are asking the wrong question”, my daughter replied. 

“What do you want it to be?”

MDC December 2020

Give and Take

We were both takers.

Fearful that we would not survive 

with what little we had.

Fearful that what little we 

could take from the other

would not be enough.

When we took from each 

other we knew what was taken 

was released grudgingly, unwillingly,

not laid down to the other.

So there was never any gratitude 

for what was taken, nor gratitude

to be able to give to help 

the other survive.

Giving and taking was never

going to be the answer for us.

It’s not the answer for anybody.

What we needed was giving and receiving.

Giving and receiving would have

allowed both of us to survive,

or one of us at least.

But now there is no us, for neither 

of us have survived.

MDC 6/11/2020