Bora born
Riverwalk _
iphone charged, umbrella ready, a sense of
autumn scents the breeze city cats slowly run.
Venice by the river, a walkers delight
preps an ambience in the early morning with
a friendly hello, the flat whites aroma
plays around in service to Isobel's smile.
She knows where she's going, feet straight ahead, up
here on loan from the apple isle, Brisbane's gain.
Global heating is no mystery to her gen
fracked before nuanced eyes their futures far less
cruel stolen by the momentum of corporate
greed transnationals insideous spent decline.
Fab kebabs on Albert's leafy cabby stand
next to the night owl's twenty-four hour sell.
Three months in Oz, wife and kids back in Egypt
Nasar works the office workers with take it
or leave it specials of free bottled water
with $6.50 kebabs to die for.
A customer sits down, refuged tables bite
off small bits of footpath; his name is Ahmed.
Three IRAQI degrees need some reworking
in QUT's hallowed halls of excellence
where Lana the banana used to dance free
in those days when the student club had free reign.
A cash grab of elite control's never ending
story puts him in his place for life's resumes'.
He's walked the shadow lands where east middles west's
circled talk of war and an empire's blitzkrieg
on civilised liberal freedoms once taken
for granted, in a flip sided world gone mad.
The old treasury once was, now a casino
can't find a better metaphor to power up.
Perhaps it beats the cities oldest busker
on this sandstone spot with his weird request of
no pictures please, drummed out nonsense, random notes
to an empty honour box, no one feeds coin.
Victoria's bridge connects west with east in
GOMA's pacific festival of the arts.
A menagerie of gorgeous patience spent
on fossils before the masters' art, sensate
mind body purpose, to play out rock and roll
george's sad museum piece on loan nearby.
Circular Quay's friday arv public space fills
with tents of asian spicy food, Po on show.
Busy bee people pause, she has their patience
clipped on their way home by bus, boat, car, train, legs
eleven, most heading west mute as, the tell
in the way they just seem to look straight ahead.
The city place draws you down where rock and roll george
did the block in his fx holden, then some.
Tunnels below eject buses onto north
quay, past people train office workers pulsed stop go
traffic, wicca eyes rarely meet another's glance with
smiled helloes, mass auras cropped within their midst.
Concrete canyon's past St John's Cathedral's spire
sound box the lone sax player on Creek and Anne.
His sacred place wails with a haunted echo
in a cadence of tones in search of the sweet
spot he works like the pro he is, the passer
by captured within a spelled mute, silent pose.
The loop back past Venice flip sides the day near
the story bridge with centre stage post card views.
It's night, the city transforms herself into
a gorgeous thing of necklaced shadow strung
out with pearls of watery light, getting home
early the last thing on his what's next please mind.
- O -
© 10th mar 2013 _ Nhawrr yirrpa
autumn scents the breeze city cats slowly run.
Venice by the river, a walkers delight
preps an ambience in the early morning with
a friendly hello, the flat whites aroma
plays around in service to Isobel's smile.
She knows where she's going, feet straight ahead, up
here on loan from the apple isle, Brisbane's gain.
Global heating is no mystery to her gen
fracked before nuanced eyes their futures far less
cruel stolen by the momentum of corporate
greed transnationals insideous spent decline.
Fab kebabs on Albert's leafy cabby stand
next to the night owl's twenty-four hour sell.
Three months in Oz, wife and kids back in Egypt
Nasar works the office workers with take it
or leave it specials of free bottled water
with $6.50 kebabs to die for.
A customer sits down, refuged tables bite
off small bits of footpath; his name is Ahmed.
Three IRAQI degrees need some reworking
in QUT's hallowed halls of excellence
where Lana the banana used to dance free
in those days when the student club had free reign.
A cash grab of elite control's never ending
story puts him in his place for life's resumes'.
He's walked the shadow lands where east middles west's
circled talk of war and an empire's blitzkrieg
on civilised liberal freedoms once taken
for granted, in a flip sided world gone mad.
The old treasury once was, now a casino
can't find a better metaphor to power up.
Perhaps it beats the cities oldest busker
on this sandstone spot with his weird request of
no pictures please, drummed out nonsense, random notes
to an empty honour box, no one feeds coin.
Victoria's bridge connects west with east in
GOMA's pacific festival of the arts.
A menagerie of gorgeous patience spent
on fossils before the masters' art, sensate
mind body purpose, to play out rock and roll
george's sad museum piece on loan nearby.
Circular Quay's friday arv public space fills
with tents of asian spicy food, Po on show.
Busy bee people pause, she has their patience
clipped on their way home by bus, boat, car, train, legs
eleven, most heading west mute as, the tell
in the way they just seem to look straight ahead.
The city place draws you down where rock and roll george
did the block in his fx holden, then some.
Tunnels below eject buses onto north
quay, past people train office workers pulsed stop go
traffic, wicca eyes rarely meet another's glance with
smiled helloes, mass auras cropped within their midst.
Concrete canyon's past St John's Cathedral's spire
sound box the lone sax player on Creek and Anne.
His sacred place wails with a haunted echo
in a cadence of tones in search of the sweet
spot he works like the pro he is, the passer
by captured within a spelled mute, silent pose.
The loop back past Venice flip sides the day near
the story bridge with centre stage post card views.
It's night, the city transforms herself into
a gorgeous thing of necklaced shadow strung
out with pearls of watery light, getting home
early the last thing on his what's next please mind.
- O -
© 10th mar 2013 _ Nhawrr yirrpa
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Riverwalk _
Riverwalk _
