Dorothea McKellar’s iconic Australian poem ‘I love a sunburnt country’ contains the words in my title and never has it been more apt in my publishing…
Of drought and flooding rains
I love Doug’s writing and poetry. Often dark, always quirky, with solid disrespect for many of the travesties of modern life
An audio recording of my readings on the Words to Share segment with Jan Potter on Happy FM, https://www.radio901.com.au/ and the details of my readings.
For Erin
Words are all I have
To explain and comfort
To help map a way ahead.
But now they fail me
No directions appearing
Support feeling superficial.
I wish I could do something
Nothing now appearing
The future a blur.
A brave young woman
Children by her side
Taking one step at a time.
And so it must be
For others can’t direct
Or choose her path.
All who know her
Would unreservedly agree
She has the wherewithal.
But the challenges abound
Rearing their heads
The expected and unexpected.
Standing alone now
Lonely in the crowd
The sounding board silent.
And yet a whisper exists
The things Sam said and felt
The love not lost.
Brian Matthews, 24-8-22
A night out
Such fun to be here
Live music and dancing
Songs in the air
Jostling with the laughter.
Smiling faces all around
An affirmation of life
Not just stewing at home
Gnawing the bone of grief.
Snippets of conversation
No subject too lengthy
Living in the now
Shaking the old bones.
A refreshing change
An important reminder
Of the need for joy
Fertiliser for the soul.
Brian Matthews, 28/8/22
The link
The bond between parent and child
Emotional and physical
Genes tugging back & forth
So many shared experiences.
The bond between partners
Again, shared experiences
Importantly, shared dreams
A path mapped out together.
These links are assumed
Though not always there
Needing to be fed and watered
Shrivelling if not maintained.
Care for another at the core
But that is not enough
Showing the love important
Heart on the sleeve.
Sharing the strengths
Appreciating the vulnerabilities
Always being there
Without overpowering their will.
Brian Matthews, 28/8/22
For my children
On this my special day
To all of you I say
Thank you for your sentiments
So much better than any presents.
Life is busy at your age
More so than any other stage
I did not fully realise it in the past
Too busy working at the mast.
Time is fleeting so it’s said
Best not waste it in your bed
Though sleep is needed and to be enjoyed
It’s also necessary to be employed.
In the constant work of life
Engaging with others no matter the strife
Showing love and concern
Not allowing bridges to burn.
Brian Matthews, 28/8/22
Goodbye Normanville Beach Cafe
So like a wake
Free food and drink
Tears and laughter
A sense of disbelief.
People gathering to share
Memories and anecdotes
Friends joking and reconnecting
But not at this place anymore.
The vocal few’s attempts foiled
Realisation of this reality
Now sinking in to those opposed
Guilty now that they did not act.
But it has been obvious to most
That this change was not wanted
The glass castle envisaged
And the debt now assured.
A Council that has not listened
Claims that objectors are few
Ensuring bad will in the future
As rates rise yet again.
And in its wake a family
Ravaged by these events
To be replaced by Food Trucks
All atmosphere gone.
Change is inevitable
That we all know
But casting aside loved assets
Should be done with care.
No amount of argument
Will convince all to agree
But a decision bullied through
Leaves a sour lingering taste.
Brian Matthews, 3-9-22
Father’s Day 2022
Four men at a table
Sharing their lives
Joking and laughing
But the deep pain is there.
The time passes too quickly
To a park they move
Not dressed for the weather
But difficult to draw apart.
Sharing tales of Sam
The man no longer there
Unwilling to end this time
Returning to their families.
For he cannot do this
Though his wife and children remember
In a visit to his beach
Writing in the sand.
The harsh edges of sorrow
Gradually worn smoother
By time and experience
The roots of love expanding.
These times can be hard
But losses are part of life
We must rise from the ashes of grief
Lest we betray the love of those lost.
Brian Matthews, 5-9-22
JOY
Joy does not arrive with a fanfare,
on a red carpet strewn with the flowers of a perfect life.
Joy sneaks in, as you pour a cup of coffee,
watching the sun hit your favourite tree, just right.
And you usher joy away,
because you are not ready for it.
Your house is not as it must be,
for such a distinguished guest.
But joy cares nothing for your messy home,
or your bank-balance,
or your waistline, you see.
Joy is supposed to slither through the cracks of your imperfect life,
that’s how joy works.
You cannot invite her, you can only be ready when she appears.
And hug her with meaning,
because in this very moment,
joy chose you.
An audio recording of my readings on the Words to Share segment with Jan Potter on Happy FM, https://www.radio901.com.au/ and the details of my readings.
Grief
Grief, a difficult concept
No two griefs the same
Individuals dealing differently
All sharing the deepest pain.
Pulling selves up
Climbing a hill each day
One without a crest
Continuing into the distance.
And what’s ahead so hazy
The topography shifting
Shapes blurry to the vision
Emotions churning endlessly.
Part of us knows the curve will flatten
The path ahead will take shape
Deep feelings explored
Answers no longer needed.
For if this doesn’t happen
Bitterness creeps in
Laying waste to the joy left
Ignoring the “sparkling moments”.
When deep in this black hole
All seems so pointless
But smiles, comfort and love
Can drag us into the light.
Brian Matthews, 1/8/22
A Young Mum Bereft
A young mum bereft
Two young children
But a gaping absence.
How to move on alone?
Friends and family
Cannot fill this void.
Continuous reminders appear
Aggravating the wound
The emotions so raw.
A future so full of hope
Now seems a landscape of despair
All certainty stripped away.
Populate that scenario she will
Nature abhors a vacuum
Children’s needs calling.
But this pain should not be minimised
Cutting so sharp and deep
No easy answers forthcoming.
A different calm will appear
One without his being
Though always with his presence.
Brian Matthews, 29/7/22
The journey
Surrounded by loved ones
This is such a blessing
Those with whom you share
The pain of this loss.
Each grieving in their own way
But each aware of the pain
That others share with them
Not knowing how to deal with this.
Focussing on the way ahead
How to recover some joy
Acknowledging what he gave us
Knowing we’ll never see his like again.
He carved a path unique
Saw the world in his own way
Peered beyond the veil
Unwrapped new truths.
For this I will always be thankful
A novel view of the world
A quirky way of looking
At what is common to all.
Brian Matthews, 28/7/22
The Dust Settles
The dust settles
As it surely does
After the storm.
The sun fights through
Clouds previously impenetrable
Now merely wisps.
Still cold the days
A month before Spring
More rain yet to fall.
And even in the midst of heat
A cold front may appear
Casting its temporary shroud.
Temperature goes up and down
And so it always will
Weather rarely constant.
A metaphor for life
Nothing stays the same
Change an eternal feature.
All that can be done
Is to hold on firmly
Seeking some stability.
Looking for hope
That brightness will emerge
Dispelling the settled gloom.
Brian Matthews, 27/7/22
Authenticity
The reason my words I hide
Is fear of showing who I am
Opening myself to judgement
Flirting with condemnation.
I like to scratch my crotch in the evening,
Let out a loud belch or fart when alone,
And too many other things
I just cannot share with many.
But are these little secrets
All that we fear examined?
Not likely I suggest,
It is really terror about all the rest.
The deep inner uncertainties,
The feelings of guilt and shame.
What if people truly knew
What this well practiced mask obscures?
You are such a lovely bloke,
Many people will say,
My loved ones may cringe at this
For they see more of who I am.
Sometimes I think it might be better,
To wear a less appreciated face,
A misogynistic old bastard,
Or at least a grumpy mantle.
The latter I can at times be,
The former just doesn’t fit me,
I guess I will just continue
To open up more as time goes on.
But something that I have learned,
Is that authenticity can be misunderstood,
Conveying a deep feeling to some,
Is not always a wise practice.
Oh, that’s deep ‘professor’
Is something I’ve experienced,
Or ‘I don’t have time like some
To explore the issues you mention’.
I try to never chide another
For sharing deep concerns.
Owning your feelings is paramount,
Examining them for clues.
But endless circling is fraught,
With dangers contained in every thought,
Pulling it out for momentary examination,
Then stuffing it back to avoid the panic.
The fright in finding dark, dark parts,
The face of self we like avoided.
Confronting these bits is so important,
Done with those we value and respect.
We all have frailties we prefer to hide,
Real and imagined gaps and hollows.
The only way to change and grow
Is to weed and water the fallow soul.
Not every moment is needed for this task,
As only focussing on long introspection,
Avoids the joy that we might find,
By examining the world and its direction.
Brian Matthews, 6/5/2020
In the Telling
In the telling of a story,
The story changes,
How much and when
Is never clear.
Questioning what has happened,
Is it a function of ageing,
Or a process of development?
The outcome is the same.
No story is written in stone,
Nor marble, wood, or concrete.
To describe me like this forever,
Is a mistake and must be disdained.
Brian Matthews, 11/3/19
Memories
The Year Book’s out,
I’m with a friend.
This person, and that,
This memory and not that.
How it tugs at you,
The memories you have,
Or not at all,
It seems so strange.
Some things will stick,
A face and name,
And others it seems,
You’ve not met at all.
Thus it is with memory,
As with much of life,
We’ve not truly experienced it,
Without sharing something.
But memories which are shared,
Are so often somewhat different.
Objective reality seems a fantasy,
As does objective truth.
Brian Matthews 11/3/19
A quotation to end the segment
“In my experience, nothing comes close to a mother’s grief at losing her child. It is a primal, terrible thing to see, a woman who has grown a child within the confines of her body, has birthed it in a ritual that comes as close to death as the living ever dare tread, and then lost it. Grief is not a competition, but if it were, this grief would win, hands down.
Close on its heels, though, is the grief of a father, of family, of anyone who has accepted responsibility for a little life, nurturing it and watching over it as it stretches out into the world.”
— Daughters of Eve by Nina D. Campbell
Dedicated to my son Sam (21/11/83 – 3/7/22) who passed away after a 10 month battle with a particularly vicious form of stomach cancer.
Winter Comes
Another winter comes around
Leaves scattered on the ground
Rain coming in waves
Wind swirling in the eaves.
Darker the days will get yet
Of that there can be no bet
The cold chilling the bones
The stomach churning full of stones.
And as the ground absorbs the water
The sun peeks through to tease each daughter
Sons, mothers and fathers too
Each wrapping up as all will do.
And the Earth keeps revolving
All who live on her constantly evolving
Knowing that in the not distant future
New life will come ever so pure.
The turn of the seasons is a sign
That life continues so benign
The cold and rain so sorely needed
Prayers for this thankfully heeded.
Where would we be if all was fine
If never, ever there came a time
When gloom so regularly appeared
To be rejoiced not feared.
For in but a few months we know
Plants will bud and fruits will grow
And the age-old cycle will once more
Show coldness out the door.
Brian Matthews, 30/5/22
Bad News Again
Some news so hard to process
Learning that all will not be well
That the strong young man we bore
Is fighting a battle that can’t be won.
And to me he apologises
So like the man he is
Knowing that this news
Is so bitter for those who love him.
And, having been through this before
Watching another family member fade
With a full realisation of the implications
Impossible to hide from what this means.
My heart full of love for him
Feeling so powerless in the face
Of a brutal enemy that pervades all
Turning all hope to ashes.
Wishing that this was not so
That a solution may be found
Knowing how unlikely this is
The disease chewing him to pieces.
Finding any distraction that I can
But nothing can override this
The pain builds and mounts
Blurring all around.
Brian Matthews, 30/5/22
A Short Walk
A short walk
Such a meagre stroll
To help get out of my head
To chat and comment on the world.
Sky so blue
Though plenty of clouds
Sun peeking through valiantly
A metaphor for my current life.
So little to rejoice about
When plagued by uncertainty
But joy exists I know for sure
Recapturing that my current task.
Some photos received
Of grandchildren with big smiles
Lifting the mood for sure
Promising brighter days ahead.
An afternoon appointment made
Coffee and cake to be shared
As well as the joys and woes of life
For we all have those aplenty.
The Yin and Yang within us
And outside us all around
Sometimes a struggle profound
At others peals of laughter rebound.
Without others we surely shrivel
But at times we need to be alone
Wallowing in solitary grief
Dragged from this by family and friends.
It does little good to anyone
If every day you hide away
Losing connections so important
Eschewing the joy of company.
Brian Matthews, 16-6-22
To Sam
I said to you
“I’ve run out of words”
But that’s not entirely true.
So many remain
The real task now
Which to choose.
You know I love you
And always will
And regret I didn’t show this more.
Not in your life enough
To know you as I should
An emotion I know others feel too.
A private mantle you always wore
A keen observer of all around
True feelings shared with reserve.
Beneath this a solid core
Of sensitivity and integrity
And this you gave freely.
I seek for you peace
The knowledge you have done your all
To smooth the way ahead.
To leave this world richer
For what you gave
Your effect rippling on the sea of life.
You haven’t blindly blundered
But taken careful steps
A path of curiosity and joy.
You will leave behind you
So many better for knowing you
So many despairing for your loss.
You will live in our hearts
Until our own flames flicker and dim
Rejoicing in all you gave.
Brian Matthews, 26-6-22
The Light
The light begins to shine
The eyelids flutter open
All is at peace with the world
And then the harsh truths rush in.
It seems so strange
To experience snippets of happiness
Swiftly rent asunder
When all is displayed.
The world continues to spin
People go about their days
While family and my friends
Attempt to see the light.
Railing against this useless
Though we do it just the same
Weeping for our dearly beloved one
Who did not deserve this blight.
His bravery at this time
An example for us all
He weeps for those he loves
Reflects on the life he’s had.
Regrets can come thick and fast
But I know those harshest to him
Not seeing his lovely children grow
Not present for the challenges they face.
He’ll live on we all know
In the hearts of kin and mates
Forever providing a glow
For all who knew him to follow.
Brian Matthews, 28-6-22
The Parenting Path
The parenting path twists and turns
During infancy such high demands
Adulthood a different matter.
We stand aside and let them go
Always full of concern
About choices and their families.
For some things we can help
But know we must
Their lives are their own doing.
And yet children they remain to us
Visions of tears and scrapes
Accomplishments and challenges.
Intrude on them at our peril
For they need their independence
To make mistakes and achieve.
No easy answers are revealed
Context as parents limited
Their thoughts and aspirations veiled.
Sharing with us what they will
Including us as they determine
Never quite enough for most of us.
And snippets we may see
At family gatherings or holidays
Of what our child has become.
Rarely will they tell us all
Remnants of the past continue
Blurring the reality of the present.
Brian Matthews, 30-6-22
For Sam
Walking along the road of life
So often holes appear
Some mere bumps
Others such deep crevices.
One so deep now appears
I hardly see across
Nor a way to go around
Its dark, dark depths.
And I know it is also so
For so many others in his realm
Casting around for ways to be
Things that might comfort.
Or distract from the present
Anything to take the mind away
From the harsh reality
Growing and festering by the day.
We all know ways will appear
To circumvent the black pit
But only time can bring this
Not healing, but soothing the pain.
And evermore it will remain
The proverbial hole in the heart
The joy of his presence forever taken
The light he brought always remaining.
Brian Matthews 26-6-22
Sam, the 3rd of my 4 sons, is a truly lovely young man (38) with a wife and 2 children who is dying from peritoneal cancer. His bowel is almost totally obstructed and he hasn’t eaten much in a week. Can’t drink either. Yesterday, Sam said “I’m not going to just sit here waiting to die” and went surfing with the help of some friends and his wife. You gotta admire his guts
Losing Yourself
A common thing to do
Losing yourself in fiction
Maybe a good book
A TV series or movie.
Sometimes it’s a time-killer
Others a mask for pain
Living for a time so brief
Disconnected from harsh reality.
Fantastic plots flow steadily
From creative minds the globe around
People who take the little and big
Shaping these into entertainment.
Behind the smoke and mirrors
The world continues to spin
The mundane slowly unfolding
Amidst too many unwanted endings.
But all will gradually appear
Time never static
Laughing and peals of joy
Despair and buckets of tears.
From strong emotions we hide
When our frail vessel shudders
Seeking more palatable possibilities
Or just enjoying the game of it all.
Once roving storytellers filled this need
Now books and streaming services provide
The human need for alternative stories
Ever present in our makeup.
Brian Matthews, 30-4-22
A Delightful Spot
A campsite cleared
A swamp hen foraging
Another joins it
Maybe small scraps left
And then there are three
Too much foraging for scraps
Maybe insects come to the surface
Under protection of tents.
An area full of bird life
Shallow water and reeds
For safety and breeding frogs
And other creatures birds eat.
Such a delightful spot
Overlooking the quiet waters
Houses nestled nearby
Caravan park surveying all.
Now five swamp hens
Diligently working the ground
Bird calls all around
Swooshing of a car nearby.
Adults reading in the sun
Dogs seeking the shade
Resting after morning walks
Another person strolling by.
No jarring sounds now
Mowing having ceased
A pleasant gentle breeze
Soothing all troubles away.
Brian Matthews, 10-5-22
Alexa’s Twelve
Another year passed
Now at the end of the tweens
Still a young girl
But a young woman soon.
I remember the little bundle
Held carefully in my arms
The smiles and gurgles
The laughs and the cries.
But time overtakes all
Growth spurts shooting forth
The language developing
The personality unfolding.
Now cartwheels aplenty
Conversation tripping forth
Interests ever growing
Friendships carefully nurtured.
I wish you a happy year
Full of joyful exploration
Surrounded by love
Seeking life’s path.
Brian Matthews, 11-5-22
Seeking peace
The stomach churns
The mind won’t settle
The mood so flat.
How to find a place
Of comfort and joy
Seems an impossible task.
Yet it should not be so
Surrounded by those I love
Grandchildren waiting to play.
Shake yourself firmly
Take a step forward
I say to myself.
Spectres lurking in the mist
Of a mind overwrought with pain
Fearing a future unwanted.
It does little good to catastrophise
But it seems so hard to not
Emotions respond poorly to logic.
A way ahead needed
No one can help with this
Kind words poor comfort.
So many in this world
Worse off and suffering
Yet I churn in pain.
It seems so self-indulgent
And writing this helps
Lifts my mood a little.
While my grandchildren play
Quietly drawing and colouring
In their own way aware.
Waiting for Pop to settle
Engaging themselves in a task
Knowing I will return.
Brian Matthews, 21/5/22
Friends and Family
Such a special time
Visits from family
Or long-standing friends.
The latter so often
More like family than friends
Shared history so important.
Memories cheerfully shared
Of happenings so long ago
Events that tie and bind.
New memories being created
At this time now shared
Special meals a common bond.
Talk of relationships unknown
Clarifying the how and where
Filling in important pieces.
And then the time to go comes
Sadly joyful moments these
Hopeful that all will meet again.
Knowing that whatever happens
These are special people
Who celebrate and validate.
Farewell to our special visitors
May your travels go well
Our futures firmly intertwined.
Brian Matthews, 23/5/22
Living Hell
Life throws curve balls
Of that we can be sure
A straightforward trajectory
Converted into something much trickier.
And for those living these times
It can truly feel like living hell,
Expecting a particular path
But swerves and bumps appear.
Asking so many questions
But the answers remain unclear
Mapping a way ahead carefully
Only to run into the undergrowth.
Platitudes trip off our tongues
To help others accept this vagary
Sounding very hollow to those
Who live this experience.
And yet battle on we must
Waving a white flag not the answer
Though times do come
When there is no other option.
For now those most affected
Modify goals to avoid potholes
Band together for support
Hoping for a better outcome.
Brian Matthews, 28/5/22
The Joy Within
We often need to be reminded
Of the joy within
When the days are darkest
Slivers of light do appear.
There can be no pleasure
When there is never pain
Rejoice in the glimmers we must
Even when these are quickly extinguished.
A smile glows in the darkness
A laugh expands the heart
People play in the sun
Though clouds loom on the horizon.
As humans we search for reasons
Though these do not always appear
Some events seemingly random
Trite answers we need to abandon.
Words are often used to fill the holes
Created by chance
An attempt to gain meaning
In the face of bitterness.
Shouting at the clouds rarely helps
Other than venting some emotions
But, at times, it’s all you can do
This we see and universally accept.
Then, maybe, in those little things
We can for a moment rejoice
Reminded that all is not dark
A glow still exists for us all.
Brian Matthews, 28/5/22
“When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot in it and hang on.” -Franklin D. Roosevelt
This resonated with me because I have asked so many people in difficult situations, and heard others ask this too, “I don’t understand how you are managing to cope with this” and the reply is always something like “what’s the alternative?”
Of course, there is an alternative, collapse in a blubbering heap and, sometimes this happens but usually it is brief and maybe cathartic. Inevitably, people take the next step, and then the next, and, before they know it, they’re taking some sort of action.
It’s called Human Resilience and, while malevolent forces may crush this, any small window and a flame of hope will be fanned again.
Winter Comes
Another winter comes around
Leaves scattered on the ground
Rain coming in waves
Wind swirling in the eaves.
Darker the days will get yet
Of that there can be no bet
The cold chilling the bones
The stomach churning full of stones.
And as the ground absorbs the water
The sun peeks through to tease each daughter
Sons, mothers and fathers too
Each wrapping up as all will do.
And the Earth keeps revolving
All who live on her constantly evolving
Knowing that in the not distant future
New life will come ever so pure.
The turn of the seasons is a sign
That life continues so benign
The cold and rain so sorely needed
Prayers for this thankfully heeded.
Where would we be if all was fine
If never, ever there came a time
When gloom so regularly appeared
To be rejoiced not feared.
For in but a few months we know
Plants will bud and fruits will grow
And the age-old cycle will once more
Show coldness out the door.
Brian Matthews, 30/5/22
It is always such a joy to have visits from friends or family. Some friends are much like family with lengthy histories and tales to share. Having just had such a visit from friends of my wife’s family, I wrote this short poem:
Friends and Family
Such a special time
Visits from family
Or long-standing friends.
The latter so often
More like family than friends
Shared history so important.
Memories cheerfully shared
Of happenings so long ago
Events that tie and bind.
New memories being created
At this time now shared
Special meals a common bond.
Talk of relationships unknown
Clarifying the how and where
Filling in important pieces.
And then the time to go comes
Sadly joyful moments these
Hopeful that all will meet again.
Knowing that whatever happens
These are special people
Who celebrate and validate.
Farewell to our special visitors
May your travels go well
Our futures firmly intertwined.
Brian Matthews, 23/5/22
A Kick in the Guts
Life never stops
The days go on
Things enjoyable and not
The pages turn.
We occupy ourselves
With that we need to do
And many things we choose
But some are actively avoided.
Thinking about your illness
Is something I avoid, my son
A phenomenon I can’t control
Best left to those who may.
A friend’s well-meant question
Brings all to the fore
Disallows the dense fog
Surrounding my feelings.
Like a kick in the guts
The question is received
Brief information given
Heart exploding with pain.
Realisation at the forefront
Even those who may control this
Reaching the end
Building barriers that, seemingly, will fall.
Sadness envelops me
A postcard from a school trip found
So many memories built
Knowing in these we must rejoice.
My soul feels ragged and torn
Knowing that you and your spouse
Have nowhere to hide from the pain
Doing your best to soldier on.
For many who care this is sad
But having lives to live move on
Hoping things will get better
Not staring into the abyss.
Comforting words can help
If only to show sincere concern
While bravely you the future face
Using all of your emotional reserves.
I send my deepest love
Knowing how deep this blade penetrates
Unable to shield you and your family
Cocooning you poorly.
Brian Matthews, 21/4/22
Trees
On a quiet country track
Walking, sitting, looking
Surrounded by trees
Straggly and twisted mostly.
A quiet time of day,
The afternoon so still
Before the birds seek their roosts
Sheep grazing, the occasional roo.
But trees dominate the landscape
Some small, others towering
Interspersed with bushes
Grasses and the odd flower.
Overhead on this cloudy day
The sun glints through
Ready to warm all
Breathe life into the trees.
In each whorl of their skin
Another year reflected
Some continued for many seasons
Others having much shorter spans.
A jumble of words
Cannot really do justice
To the nature of trees
The senses absorb their variety.
Some places these do not grow
High altitudes and dry land
Like our famous Nullarbor
Or on tundras of ice.
It pleases me that
Outside my door
I can see the trees
Breathe the air produced.
Brian Matthews, 22/4/22
The Nothing Box
A wife says to her man
What are you thinking?
As he reclines on the couch
“Oh, nothing” he says.
A tale retold around the world
Of that I am fairly certain
For most men it seems to me
Have a Nothing Box to retreat.
A place where thoughts swirl
But do not solidly coalesce
Where worries sit on the fringe
Unable to pierce the fog.
While loving spouses circle
Wanting their men to ‘open up’
Fearful of the damaging effects
Of bottling things up.
This is not really gender defined
As women too can attest
Holding feelings to their chest
Keeping others at bay.
But men socialised so often
To hide their deep emotions
Make a habit of this
And it can eat at their core.
But, I celebrate the Nothing Box
Use it judiciously I say
Retreat from the worries
Recharge for another day.
Brian Matthews, 22/4/22
I borrowed the term Nothing Box from Mark Gungor, Pastor and motivational speaker
From a distance
From a distance
It may often seem
Things are much calmer
Than those close deem.
Sail boats gliding
Over a tranquil sea
While the sailors battle
As much as can be.
A metaphor for life
A statement of fact
Some seeing the obvious
Others a different tack.
Up close in this world
We see warts and all
From far far away
There is no urgent call.
But when we hear the cries
And see the falling tears
It becomes so so apparent
That life has many fears.
Close observation makes
So much clearer to the eye
Thus politicians obfuscate
So their message we’ll buy.
Seeing the big picture
A statement so often used
To cover the reality
Of people being abused.
Whether they be refugees
In cells or hotel rooms contained
Or those born in poverty
Breeding behaviour poorly restrained.
Surveyed from afar
Emotions can be distanced
But if it affects those we love
Such travesties are not tolerated.
Empathy for others
So often needed
To understand the confusion
Show the message we have heeded.
Brian Matthews, 18-4-22
Reflections Aplenty
Talking about this and that
Some of it not easy
The illness kept at bay
But it seems not indefinitely.
Other conversations about the past
Sharing amusing anecdotes
Stories of children aplenty
Family and friends too.
These times are to be celebrated
Together mapping our lives
Reinforcing important connections
Discussing future hopes and fears.
Blessed I am to have so much
Though challenges hard to embrace
But confront these we must
Together we move ahead.
I fear the disease’s path
Now discomfort and pain
Good times there are now
Future prospects less encouraging.
While I quietly reflect
And he rests as needed
The anxiety ever present
As forward we move.
I value these times
Knowing the road ahead
Seeing the little boy still
Enjoying the time and stories.
I still rail against the injustice
Knowing that his life will end
Wanting this not to be so
Still hoping for a miracle.
A young man so full of life
Body being wastefully damaged
By an illness so severe
And yet he smiles and laughs.
Brian Matthews, 29/4/22
Over the lagoon
The reeds bend
In the gentle breeze
Calm, slightly rippled water beyond.
A peaceful place
Caravans and tents dotted around
Much relaxing happening.
Magpies looking for a feed
Carroling when found
Prancing on the ground.
Conversations here and there
Strollers passing with their dog
People enjoying their time.
A BBQ cooked for lunch
Snags and onions
Common, tasty fare.
Lounging in the sun after
An early, cold beer imbibed
A poem penned yet again.
Brian Matthews, 9/5/22
Picard Season 2 Episode 6
Sir Patrick Stewart as Jean-Luc Picard
Written by Jane Maggs
I found that even in the darkest circumstances there is a light. Sometimes only a glimmer. Trust that light. Find a way back, no matter what it takes.
