sculpted civilisation

sculpted civilisation

Chiselled sculptures-

cracked faces.

Crowded channels.

Fallen fragments-

of what was.

Occupied scenarios-

unsolicited control.

Foundations cracked.

Faded faces.

Fragmented times.

No. 3. Stream of Conciousness.

No. 3. Stream of Conciousness.

Soft glow of phone, reflection in mirror. Dimly lit apocalypse. Chained in an ever encumbering stare. Always scrolling, never lonely. Sweet illusion, false idols, empty ideas. Money talks, faces made of plastic. Self absorbed, scripted alibis. Botox here. Botox there. Self-sacrifices are the norm for such a chance to remain a modern delusion.

Twas the Moon-Archive #1

Twas the Moon-Archive #1

Twas the moon-
Of fullness-
That shone-
Welcoming awe-
To my heart.

Beauty did the moon bring-
A comforting trance-
Mother Natures eye shine upon the sky-
Watching her children live, love and loss.

Twas the moon-
That shifted darkness-
Into a lantern upon the velvet sky.

Sadness did the moon bring-
When weeping eyes-
looked upon the lonely sky-
A reminder of the ones no longer.

Twas the moon-
Encouraging love-
With open arms throughout the night.

Love did the moon bring-
Lonely souls becoming one-
Together-
Such euphoric harmony.

Twas the moon-
Of such fullness-
Shifting through the times-
Where emotions shine bright-
A mirror of above-
Upon the velvet sky.

Shadows…..

Shadows…..

As I sit within the shadows-

Life itself I do ponder.

Such sadness scars my soul.

Thorns encased in salt rape my heart-

Reflections of death I have seen.

Isolation-

Mind over body-

Veils my being.

As I sit in the shadows-

They do speak to me-

In hushed whispers-

Warming my ears.

For shadows have no reflection-

Death can’t be seen.

To which brings comfort to thee.

Melbourne’s Ghost…..

Melbourne’s Ghost…..

I live in Melbourne, Victoria and I think I speak for the whole of Victoria.

From late 2019 till the current times of 2020 these times have been extremely hard for us all.

2020 ‘welcomed’ us with quite literally fire and brimstone. Smoke canvassed our skies for months.

Worry and concern plagued us for the safety of our firies. Our rural Victorians, their accompanying wildlife and our livestock.

Instead of morning alarms, for months we rang in the morning with Vic Emergency updates from our fire chiefs and our Premier.

Contact to outer Victoria was scarce.

Towns affected by the fires, their phone lines and electricity was gone for weeks.

Instead of friendly phone notifications from our friends and family, our phones pinged and dinged with the messages that another fire was out of control.

As time burned on. Acres got lost. Damage increasing 10fold.

Our hope was fading as clouds of smoke covered our horizons both literally and figuratively.

Once the fires were finally extinguished. Just before Autumn I may add.We continued to hold charity events, benefits anything that could send money to the townships and wildlife destroyed by this devastation.

Melbourne, Victoria as a whole was begining to gain our spirits back.

Joy started to fill our lives again. The air was clear. Our rural nature, the essence and beauty of what makes Victoria Victoria was finally recovering.

Remember….

We are descendants of Bush Rangers. We are strong. We can get through anything. We will be triumph through our struggles…..

Well…..

so we thought….

Mid March came along and along with it came covid.

With just over a months rest. We Victorians and along side us our Premier had to pull our bootstraps up once again.

Instead of alarms, Victoria welcomed the days ahead with death total. Case totals. A variety of different numbers and so fourth from the Premier.

Hope was deminishing once again. We had already been through so much in such little time.

We couldn’t see family, friends. Meet under ‘The Clocks’ do the things that make Melbourne. Melbourne. We were now the shell of once being the No.1 most liveable City in the world. Seven years running.

Most of us stuck to the rules. Staying in. Not seeing anyone outside our household.

Numbers started greatly decreasing.

Some restrictions were lifted.

Five people could visit one household.

Then 10 people could visit a household.

We were getting though this.

Remember….

We are descendants of Bush Rangers. We are strong. We can get through anything. We will be triumph through our struggles. We got this.

Or so we thought….

A month or so had passed.

Stage 3 was shorted lived. Numbers weren’t moving.

Then the numbers and stats were ambushing us.

Stage 4 was quickly put in place.

Yet again the days were ‘welcomed’ by numbers and stats.

All Melbourne checking their phones for the notification ping of ‘The Premier is now live.’

When the Premier would finish discussing the latest updates and changes to Victoria as a whole.

Some Jurnos asked questions that would actually help Victoria feel reassured and informed. Other Jurnos on the other hand would repeat and recite questions on a political stance. To stir the waters in the political atmosphere. Not helping the current situation at all.

A witch hunt towards Melbourne began….

So many people and Media all over Australia were also repeating and reciting negativity towards Melbourne and Victoria as a whole.

Our spirits had already been crushed , damaged and pierced since the end of 2019.

To have most of Australia against us. Causing more grief and anxiety to us Victorians. Wasn’t helping the current situation either.

Why turn on your own family?

I ask.

We are one. We are many.

But now it seems more like Most of Australia is one…and Melbourne, Victoria is not. Anymore.

Melbourne, Victoria. We had been through the ringer so many time in such a short period of time. Spirits crushed.

I will admit some people screwed up. Others did not.

Please think of us….

Fires prevented us from seeing our loved ones for months. Then Lock down continues to prevent us from seeing Family, Friends and ‘Meeting Under the Clocks’.

Each days that goes on in Lock down. We are alone. We are even more alone when most of Australia hates us.

As the ghost of Melbourne essences vapours on through the empty streets and cobbled stone lane-ways…..

We can only hope that things will get better.

Remember…..

Melbourne’s. We will come out stronger than before.

We are descendants of Bush Rangers. We are strong. We can get through anything. We will be triumph through our struggles. We got this.

Coffee in hand we will march through this. Together. As Melbournians.