Money talks but so do thoughts – An Essay by Kathryn Aedy

I’ve found that it is only when I act upon my creative ideas do I really feel satisfied or in touch with my soul.

Lemon Quarterly

I can think of a few people who would rather be somewhere other than the job they’re in. They wake up too early to get to a building of an indistinct shade, are obliged to meet “Good morning! How are you?” with half lies of “Good thanks! And you?” They are surrounded by friends of convenience and proximity rather than of deliberate choice, and they count down the minutes they’re contractually obligated to be in the office even though they could have completed all their work by lunchtime. When the opportunity arises to potentially turn to something else, life happens: friends and relatives have milestones to celebrate, that household task that’s been put off still needs doing, bills need paying, babies are born and loved ones pass on. A whole lifetime can unfold with the alternate working path not taken, the one that has been daydreamed about while otherwise occupied…

View original post 1,800 more words

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

To be me, who else could I be?

When does boy become man?





I am currently 52 years old and by most considerations I am a man. I am a relatively fit and healthy physically mature male person. I don’t have any gender identity issues and enjoy being a male human. I am very glad that I am well past puberty and don’t have to deal with all the confusions of adolescence again.

I have had several serious intimate relationships where I mostly felt like a mature male. I have had my manhood questioned many times and have tried to answer the question as best I could. But, so often I do not feel like a Man. My mind bubbles along like a boy.

Someone told me once to hold on to sixteen as long as I can; maybe I’ve reached my limit.

Someone else told me “gamble everything for love, it will be alright”. That didn’t work out to well, a great ride, lots of fun and a lovely adventure, but no happy ending. And, that’s a story for another time.

Maybe I should stop taking my advice from pop songs.



While I do often feel like a little boy inside some of the time, luckily it is not how I feel all of the time. Being a boy is fine, but makes living as a man difficult at times. Little boys don’t know how to navigate safely in the adult world. Little boys can be wise and strong, but have limited emotional development and poor social skills. My inner child is often frightened too scared to play with others. He sometimes puts on a brave face pops his head up to have a look around and tries to join in, smiles with a cheeky grin. People mistake him for a fool, when all he really wants is to have fun and joke around like he did when he was at school. For some reason I don’t understand some people don’t think this is cool and act quite mean and cruel.

My inner child gets scared and weary flops back into his box feels ashamed and lost.


I don’t always feel like a little boy or some old fashioned toy.

Sometimes I think that my name is Billy not Silly and I’m much to cool to be a fool.

When my inner child gets knocked around too much I withdraw inside myself and tell myself that I need to be stronger, present a friendlier more happy go lucky version of myself, someone smooth and cool. This feels like my inner ‘twenty-something’.

When the young man bounces into life to take control of my personality It’s like being taken on a ride by a blind man who can’t drive, or a unruly immature teenager full of bravado and nonsense; either way I’m bound to crash. It’s all abut the fun, looking out for number one, trying to be friends with everyone, and ends up like a blister in the sun.

The young man inside is always struggling with an internal battle while trying to maintain a certain image and appearance. Appearance is everything my only concern this billy is in play. It’s all about looking good, being cool and being relaxed night and day. All this struggle can make me tense and I often need things to help relief the stress. But, when billy’s got the reigns the trip can go a little too far and end up a horrid mess.


While I do spend a lot of time being led around by boys inside my head.

I can sometimes reach into my heart and find that part of me kind and generous , someone who glad just to be me.

I do actually often feel like a well rounded person with both male and female characteristics and do enjoy displaying my feminine side whenever I get the opportunity, which isn’t that often. I’ve had some fabulous female role models and some strong male role models who know how to be full people and who do not allow themselves to be defined or restricted by their gender or typical gender roles. I do my best to follow their example.


I’ve had a very fortunate life, which doesn’t mean I’ve always found living easy, I haven’t. I was lucky to grow up in a very nice middle class suburb of Perth, Western Australia. I grew up in very safe surroundings in a very secure economic period. I was also very lucky to grow up in a loving home with an extended family. My mother’s parents, my grandparents lived with us for most of my childhood until I was about twenty. They were a great influence on my life and I loved them dearly. My grandfather Tom was my hero and a fabulous male role model. My grandmother Mary was everything you would expect from a loving grandma and she was a fantastic role model for me also.   Looking back on it, my gran would be my biggest influence on my life. My grandma, Mary O’Brien, was sweet, caring, reliable, firm when she needed to be, and always showed me unconditional love. My Gran wasn’t mine alone, while obviously she was a beautiful caring mother to her daughters and her other grandchildren, she became Gran to many others. My friends knew her has Gran as did the friends of my cousins. One trait that I know I have formed from my grans influence is her love to socialise, make friends, and to have a chat. My greatest joy is having full and meaningful conversations. I don’t think I will be remembered as fondly as my grandma was and I don’t think my funeral will be as a big affair as gran’s was. At gran’s funeral in true reflection of who she was the chapel was full to over flowing and it included well-wishes from nearly every shopkeeper in her main street, it was an amazing and wonderful event.


In different times with different social morays I think now maybe (with the power of hindsight) would be happy being a house-husband. That term did not exist when I grew up and is only now considered a viable option for a man to pursue. I think I would like to be a kept man looking after the kids and household duties, as long as I had the opportunity to pursue creative pursuits or work options as they arose. Unfortunately i have never had children and haven’t had a stable long-term relationship, so, I haven’t yet discovered if this fantasy would work out in reality.

I still hope to create my own form of family someday soon, this will probably not include my own biological children and probably will not look like a conventional marriage, but, families can be whatever we make them and want them to be.


when I refer to my feminine side I refer to those stereotypical characteristics we have traditionally deemed to be more female than male. traits like being soft and caring, nurturing, expressive and considerate communicators. The notion that only women can and do display these traits is ridiculous. Similarly, men have traditionally been designated stereotypical male characteristics, such as; strength (which many men confuse with being tough), being stoic – keeping feelings to himself, being “capable”, and being the “bread winner”. None of these old fashioned ideas or labels based on nonsensical stereotypes are useful to individual men and women or society as a whole. I know that I have subconsciously absorbed some of these norms and over the years tried to consciously attempted to form my own gender neutral identity while still being a proud man, this hasn’t always been easy .


Through my teenage years and in my twenties, and perhaps still today, I presented as a cool, relaxed laid-back individual, without a care in the world. While at school, and a little beyond I was often bursting with a lot of teenage angst, and a typical rebellious youth – a rebel without a clue. As I got slightly older I began to internalize the angst and toned down the rebellious attitude, I had nothing to rebel against anyway. I think in some ways I have maintained a rebellious attitude, I’m not actually actively rebelling against anything, but, don’t like to see myself as part of the “mainstream” (whatever that may mean), I don’t seam to fit into the 9 to 5 world (not sure if that’s rebellious), I am not overly concerned about collecting lots of pretty possessions and I would much rather deal with and try to resolve societal issues or problems (as I perceive them) from the outer than from within.


I learnt that being an angry young man is fine when you are young and when that anger is displayed appropriately. Like most modern middle class Aussie men, who really don’t have much to be angry about, it seemed that it was only acceptable to display anger on the sports field or when we are drunk; and I was drunk a lot. I did learn eventually that expressing my anger inappropriately could be a dangerous activity, and getting in trouble or beaten up is bad for my health. So, I am no longer an angry young man, and am now a mostly pleasant fellow who tends to be a grumpy old man (even though I am just middle-aged).


For much too long I’ve been angry, and mostly kept it inside, I’d usually only display it home alone or where I thought no-one else could see. I was angry at the world and would try to blame everyone else for my mistakes, mishaps and miseries. After many years of consulting doctors, counsellors, witches and wisemen I’ve learnt that anger is a fine emotion to express, but as a well-rounded person we need to be able to express the full range of emotions including sadness, which most Aussie men are reluctant to try. I think many man bottle up their feelings and because anger seems the only acceptable emotion, especially for those of us who striving to appear strong (tough) and / or cool, anger bursts out whenever it finds a chance.


One of the things I pride myself on is my intellect. I’ve always thought I am quite an intelligent person even though I shunned this as a child, and have never really tested my intelligence or put it to any use or practical worth. I think that I’ve been lucky that I have a strong sense of logic balanced with even-handedness and a keen sense moral sensibility.


I have spent a great deal of time grooming and perfecting a practical and logical lifestyle, not too complicated by foolish emotions.

I am a big Star Trek fan and really appreciate the Vulcan characters, especially the original Mr Spock. I also particularly like the character Data an android in the TV series Star Trek Next Generation. I like these characters because while the Starship Enterprise boldly goes where know Man has gone before characters like Spock and Data are trying to comprehend the complicated illogical behaviours of their colleagues, while exploring the strange contradictions embedded within the Human Condition. The confusing complexities of living as a fully functioning human fascinates me and sometimes flaws me and spins my head till I fall down and can’t get up.


When I grow up I want to be an old man.


I’ve gazed into my navel for hours on end and haven’t yet been able to see my future. I do have grand desires and things I hope to achieve before my time has past. I am not driven by ambition and I am not a goal-orientated person, so, this makes planning a difficult concept for me. It may be slightly foolish, or even childish, when I think of the future I tend to think, `whatever will be, will be`, and let things fall where they may. This does not mean I do not have hopes and dreams for myself as I get older, I just have not worked out a plan on how reach what I want.


My dream has always to be a Grandfather, not necessarily a grandfather in a biological sense, but more like an Elder, community leader or maybe a Chief.

If I was earn the honour finally being considered wise and mature enough to thought of as an Elder I know I would need to be able to fit certain criteria and have certain characteristics that make me outstanding and worthy of being a gracious leader.

The Elder figure I have dreamed up would strong human attributes and be linked with a higher Spirit. As an Elder I would want to be in tune with the spiritual realm, be able to take wisdom and ideas from all sources available and be kind and welcoming to all. If I was an elder or chief I would also like to have a totem to help guide me and helps me see what it is I need to see. My totem would be a Golden Hawk.


The golden hawk, is an exceptional mythical powerful bird, it represents many things;

Gold: – – riches and wealth, power and beauty; –

A valued element sought after and desired by many.

Gold is a pure element, a metal found in rock. This keeps The Chief linked to the Earth and somewhat grounded.

Gold; – has ancient symbolism with it’s power of the shining sun.


My Golden Hawk

The Hawk is strong and powerful and can be a fierce predator as well as a proud defender of it’s territory.

However, despite their fierce reputations, some hawks are quiet and gentle.

A highly intelligent animal who prefers to spend a great deal of time alone and is a solo hunter, often hawks will generally mate for life, and are strongly attached to their nesting territory.


With a graceful freedom, flying high, untouchable, the hawk can go about it’s business with ease, in style.

With such amazingly keen senses led by powerful vision the hawk can see well into the distance with great clarity and focus.

He circles the skies knowing his chance will come to pursue his quest.


The hawk as a spirit animal or totem has several attributes and are sometimes thought to be the messenger of the spirit world.

They use the power of focus enabling them to see clearly into many different realms. The hawk likes to take the lead when the time is right or a suitable invitation offered.





A man who is bestowed the honour of this fantastic creature as his totem is said to be the holder of much wisdom, and spiritual power.

Chief Golden Hawk, is such a man.


He is greatly respected by all that know him. Although rarely seen, Golden Hawk has greater strength, than the mightiest of young warriors.

He has developed a powerful wisdom, enhanced by the spirit of the Earth and his people. Golden Hawks’ potential was realised from a early age, and he was taught the ways of his land and his people, by many wise medicine men and Sharman.

He was taught to respect the Earth and all its occupants. He learnt how to protect himself and his Brothers and Sisters, but to only use physical force to rival a brutal attack.


And yet with all this Golden Hawks’ greatest ability and power is peaceful negotiation


This is who I hope to be when I grow up: A man of true beauty, powerful – simply by being self-assured in my own strength and acknowledging my weaknesses, being able give and receive love and to be able to create space for others to be themselves feeling safe and welcomed.


If I was to become a Man as well rounded as my fictional future persona Chief Golden Hawk I would be accepting and inclusive to all my internal characteristics.

I think a mature man includes and welcomes the youth and the boy into his world, influence his thoughts and his actions; a wise man knows when and how to best utilize their talents and when to ignore their destructive traits.


I think when a man becomes comfortable and secure in being a boy he feels more comfortable in his place or role in society and in turn the community whole view of him.   When all is one, one is for all.



Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Who listens to the radio

digital radio A1

The Radio: my most important possession

And connection to the World

The pleasures of listening  


digital sounds-2017-03-27



Long before the current constant conductivity that we find ourselves in, and still very much today, the radio has been my companion and connection to the world.


Some time ago I was asked to describe my favorite or most prized possession or household object.

I was listening to a talkback program on the radio the other night. It was fascinating, not so much because of the subject matter or the quality or caliber of the speakers, it was the fact that I was listening to a live interactive program from England in my kitchen.   The English voices coming out of my tiny kitchen radio transported me to a world very different to current surroundings inside my little kitchen, in my small flat in suburban Western Australia. I also enjoyed being transported via the radio-waves to midday in London while I prepared my evening meal in Perth.




The talkback program wasn’t what I had tuned in to listen to, I was wanting to listen to the cricket, the last test match between Australia and England. The talkback was on because it was raining in London, and you cant play cricket in the rain, “it’s just not cricket”. Ironically, it is not unusual to be raining in England in summer here in Perth (WA) it’s winter and we hadn’t seen rain for months.


The BBC commentators were trying to entertain us and fill in time until the rain stopped. They were taking callers from their listening audience for people to share their thoughts on the game and on the series.   The calls came from all over the UK and Australia. And I found this fascinating, people ringing a radio station in Perth to be connected to London, which was then immediately transmitted back to me in Perth. That’s one of the things I love about the radio,


it connects people, in kitchens around the world, people were enjoying partaking in simultaneous stimulating conversation.



I’m devoted to my radio it serves me well. It gives me all the vital information I need, news, sport and weather. It’s informative, entertaining and stimulating.


The radio helps me feel connected to my community, country and the world.



Someone said to me recently excitedly about the wonders and fascination of being able to listen to American radio stations and radio stations around the world live on the Internet.


“Wow that’s great, does sound interesting, but, I’d rather just simply listen to a an actual radio”; I replied.

tranny 1 2017-03-27

As a child I loved the radio, and always had a tranny (transistor radio) nearby to catch the latest hits or find the footy score. Now I have the radio on day and night. I listen to conversations near and a far. I’ve heard cricket games live from England and India. The cricket from India is fantastic and truly absorbing. It’s not only absorbing for the sport, but, mostly for the atmosphere, and the fantastic conversations by the commentators. I’ve never been to India, and don’t think I will ever get there. India has always been such a fascinating mysterious place, a country of such amazing contrasts. During a cricket test match (which can go for five full days) there is a lot of time to describe and share so much more than the game. One aspect of listening to cricket on the radio from India is the fabulous engaging description of this old fashioned English game, one of the gifts from colonization, in this hugely populated country who are all madly obsessed with the game. It’s fun, it’s interesting and it stimulates the imagination allowing listener travel to fascinating places without leaving their own home.

It wasn’t until I started writing this when I fully realised that you don’t need fancy new technologies for entertainment and pleasure, all you need is a radio. I’d be lost without a radio it would have to be my most valuable and prized possession.


2017-03-27 18.49.07

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

a cold beer, good for all occasions

a beer tall ship 1.jpg

Ready to go on a journey of discovery – as long as I can have a cold beer along the way.

I have a secret identity

While celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day with a lovely pint of Guinness in a popular bustling Irish pub in Melbourne amongst a drunken crowd of Aussies all claiming Irish heritage I realized I lead a double life with a secret identity.
Here I am enjoying a fantastic time with this friendly bunch of strangers united together by our claims of Irishness, good fun and great drinks. The Irish flag I was waving was under the name O’Brien, and people were impressed and welcomed me to the Irish Clan. Most people did not seem my other identity , it felt like it was invisible and maybe just not relevant.

It’s funny how within the confines of a friendly fun pub the only thing that matters is to be part of the crowd, join in and enjoy. A celebration like Saint Patricks Day is wonderfully welcoming and uniting; we are all there for a common purpose. Aussies love a party and will join in any festive occasion with gusto.

They especially like celebrations where beer is the main ingredient, that’s why events like Octoberfest and St Pats Day are so popular and broadly attended.

Aussies love their Chinese food as well as beer, and do appreciate a great Chinese banquet. But, do many Aussies celebrate Chinese New Year?
Probably not, it doesn’t really involve a lot of drinking.
I try to at least acknowledge most years, but I don’t really know much about the Chinese festival or Asian culture at all.

I love Chinese food too, but prefer Vietnamese food and really like Japanese food, but, if I am somewhere that has a full traditional roast on the menu, that is what I’ll have. At least at a pub I know and understand what everything is on the menu. I had an interesting experience a while ago while at a fine Chinese restaurant where everyone was having trouble with the menu and also having trouble being understood by the very pretty Chinese waitress. The waitress at her wits end looked at me with pleading eyes and said; “do you speak Mandarin?”
“no, sorry, I don’t, can’t help”, I replied.
She was trying to get in touch with my secret identity. I’m not sure if that identity speaks Mandarin either, so could not come to our rescue.
I smiled cheekily to the pretty woman as she looked blankly toward me and prompted; “I’ll have a Crown Lager, thanks”.





Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Can Steve find Home?



Steve lives here and there.


Sometimes I wonder why I live where I live and choose to live the life I live.


If I change or move one piece of the puzzle will that make it easier to solve?


When I was pondering on memories of different houses with different people, I wondered why I moved so often. I also remembered

and acknowledged how fortunate I’ve been; I’ve always landed on my feet.


Now I live on the other side of the country and my view is very different, but I think my outlook is the same.




Steve welcomed Katie into his house.

“Well this is it, welcome to my humble home”, Steve said pleasantly.


“Thanks, wow, what a lovely little place”, Kate replied.

“Oh; wow, what a fabulous view”, she exclaimed as she walked toward the balcony taking in the vast uninterrupted view of the horizon and beyond.


This was a common reaction when people first visit Steve’s place. The small one bedroom apartment has a large floor to ceiling window facing north overlooking the tree-tops and small hills of the local area, leading toward a picturesque view of the hills and ranges in the far distance. It is a stunning outlook and brings a lot of brightness and a lovely atmosphere into the little place. It was also an odd point of similarity and contrast to his apartment in Fremantle which overlooked the harbour; – it was often the first thing people would comment on, “wow what an awesome beautiful view”, it was fabulous and it did give Steve a lot of pleasure also.


Steve’s apartment in Fremantle was very different to his current address. The only similarities were that they are both located on the top floor have a great view and have a busy suburban railway line a few metres away. The apartment in Fremantle was quite grand in a simple little way, well it seemed grand to Steve and he hasn’t lived anywhere as nice again. When he moved in it was brand new in a new and interesting complex. It felt great to be in a new place that he could make his own, clean no history and no hassles. It was a spacious two bedroom apartment with great facilities in a fantastic location. Steve felt quite pleased with himself to be living in such a great place. However, as nice as it was there was something missing. it didn’t feel homely. Steve had all he’d needed there and was very comfortable. But, his basic furniture and meagre belongings made the place look sparse and house felt a little empty. Steve knew this and tried to add a bit of life into the place, but never succeeded. He knew what was lacking was some personal touches, something that made it look and feel like it was his place, his home. The only time when it had any colour was when Rae gave him that wonderful painting she did with her daughter and grand-daughter. The painting was beautiful in some many ways and the bright colours helped lift the place and add some atmosphere. Due to his turbulent relationship with Rae Steve often had very mixed feelings about the painting. Steve lived at that apartment for five years and it always had a look & feel that he’d just moved in and a sense of being temporary. he thought he would make it his home one day. But, that day never came.


Now he lives in a small one bedroom apartment in another city far from the ocean and other familiar settings that he had always enjoyed and appreciated. Here he was trying to start his life again. Would he make a home here? Would he find someone to share it with?


“Yep, it is a fantastic view, and I love the colours and the feeling of nature, but experienced from the sky”, Steve said proudly as he took ownership of the view.

“If you’d like to grab those chairs, I’ll get us a drink and we can relax and take it all in”, Steve said while gesturing towards the plastic outdoor chairs while heading to the fridge.


“Thanks; that sounds great”, Katie replied.


Steve was predicably nervous not only because he had invited an attractive bright woman to his house, but, also because he didn’t want to stuff this up, he knew this could be a watershed moment if he just played it cool, keep it real, and remember his pledge to himself and be honest.   He hadn’t known Katie very long and had only been out together a few times and only twice on their own without their mutual friend Ted. Steve did genuinely like Kate and was keen to get to know her well and hoped they could build an ongoing lasting friendship. Friends are important to Steve. He currently doesn’t have that many and is becoming less tolerant of shallow mindless people. So, he appreciates the opportunity to spend quality time with bright and interesting people. Kate fits that description and she is very pretty and that’s always a nice bonus when spending time with a woman.


Steve hadn’t had many people visit him lately and never an attractive young woman (well younger than him). He did have a fleeting thought about Lucy and wondered what she was doing now and what she would think of this. He also wondered why he never told her the truth about Sue staying overnight. Even though it was completely innocent and he and Lucy hadn’t spent any time together for such a long time. And, now well he couldn’t remember the last time they’d even had a chat on the phone. So, Steve tried hard to brush thoughts of Lucy aside and hoped that thoughts and feelings of previous dates and exes did not invade his mind or infiltrate his space here and now.






Things seemed to be going great, very pleasant and easy going, with real connections and good laughs. Steve was trying hard to keep relaxed, keep a check on his emotions. He was keen to develop something with Katie and make the most of this date or whatever it was. Steve was also anxious about not trying too hard, not moving too fast, staying aware of where Kate is (practice my mind reading) and try not to hit on her (unless she sends unmistakable signs). Steve is mostly keen create a equal and honest friendship, and if anything else happens fantastic, but, nothing should jeopardies the real true relationship.


After a couple of beers, some laughs, sharing of music and sharing of stories Steve looks for something else to do.




“ok maybe it’s time to bare the soul in a nice and safe way and test my honesty pledge”, Steve thinks to himself.



“I used to write a lot of stories and poems, and have just started up again”, said Steve searching for something new and interesting to say.

“Would you be interested in looking at some?” Steve asked awkwardly.


“I was feeling low a while ago and thought I might be able to express myself in a simple rhyme, I think it’s OK”, Steve said quickly as he showed Katie his first choice of poem.

“I wrote this poem at the time to help me explore what was on my mind and how I felt about things”, Steve added as further explaination.




The black dog bites


When the black dog bites,

You know it’s a bitch

it’s like a slap from an evil witch.

Sometimes you can’t shake it no matter how hard you fight.

The pain can hit you day or night

It’s an annoying scratch you just can’t itch.


When the black dog gets a hold

It can make you feel slow and old.

The darkness may last a minute or hover like a cloud

it can often be an adventurous journey on the dark side of the street

But, maybe I should move from the shadows to the bright side of the road

It often takes courage, effort and ability to be bold.


The Black Dog doesn’t always win

Sometimes I can see the black dog coming and give it the slip.

if I keep moving it can’t catch me, & I won’t let it in.

When I feel the black dog sneaking up

I stare it down and laugh and sing

I won’t let that bitch take  over and ruin anything


The Black dog; it’s bark can be worse than it’s bite

Sometimes the fear of the dark which approaching can be perilously paralysing

keeping it away is an ongoing fight,

that often takes all my might.

So, I keep alert (but, not alarmed) and listen out for the evil snarl

if I sense it coming I throw it a black cat bone,

and hope it will leave me alone


The Black Dog, it’s out of mind and out of sight.

My heart is strong and brain is right.

Fun with friends and time in the sun

helps make me feel cheery and bright.

Wont be singing the blues today

I’m OK, if I’m alright.


[SC –  Monday, 22 September 2014 ]


“Wow; that’s great”, Katie commented.

“I liked that”, she added.

“I guess you’re trying to say something about depression or something like that”, Katie commented hesitatingly.

“um ? “ she blurted enquiringly while giving Steve kind smile with caring eyes.


“Yeah it is about depression, I have issues with that occasionally”; Steve replied cautiously.

“I’m ok at the moment”, Steve added quickly with a nervous giggle.


Steve gave Katie a brief outline of his experience of depression. He mentioned how he thinks that he may have always had some form of minor depression and at times it can really affect him, but it is never too serious. Steve tried to explain that it is depression in the common sense of the term not clinical or diagnosed, and it is quite often simply situational, and relatively easy to resolve.


Kate smile gave me hug, a little kiss (just a peck – but, stil a nice little kiss on the lips) and simply said;

“yep I understand”.





This poem I wrote many years ago in fabulous Fremantle.

It illustrates that while some things change more they stay the same.



Ah get a job


Wish I could just get a job

wouldn’t that be great

need it now – got no money – just can’t wait.

But, what’s a poor boy to do?

Got no money and need some new shoes.

Can’t go out walking without shoes on my feet

get strange looks from the people I meet,

people say I look like a lazy slob,

and that’s the reason why I’m singing the blues.


Life shouldn’t be this hard.

Just go out and try; you’ve got nothing to lose.

Do whatever makes you happy,

but, what if what makes you happy doesn’t make you money.

Money isn’t everything I hear you say

and it’s the root of all evil, we’ve all seen the perils of that way.

When you think that you’ve been dealt a rotten card,

you probably got nothing to lose

why not let your hair down and sing the blues.

Are you feeling sick and tired?

Got no energy can’t be bothered trying.

Don’t believe all those blinkin lies

people just trying to fool us with their fancy alibis.

Find something that gives you a lift,

stop wallowing in your shit.

Be more discerning with the choices you choose,

If all else fails just sing the blues.


If you find it’s all a waste of time

go for a swim in the clear blue ocean

don’t be foolish by mixing with swine.

With a little bit of trust and a dash of luck

you can see a pearl grow from a speck of dust.

So, it’s all worth cherishing no matter how big or small

Sow the seed, give it a try

who cares what they say about you when you die.

Get off your bum and have some fun

you’ve got nothing to lose

join in the chorus and sing the blues.

[SC – 17/03/06 1:33 PM]








Steve shared a couple more poems with Katie and she exchanged more insights into her life and a common unity was beginning to form.

Steve becoming a little self-conscious said decisively; “anyway enough of all that, let’s listen to a real poet. I feel like listening to some music, maybe Paul Kelly”.

Steve searched quickly through his music library and tried to find something suitable and something that wouldn’t take him to unwanted places or link his mind to anyone else.

“I know”; Steve exclaimed,

“This is simply perfect and a great album, 2 Aussie legends (well Kiwi, but, we’ve claimed him as honorary Aussie) Neil Finn and Paul Kelly – live at the Sydney Opera House”, Steve said in his best FM dj voice as he hit play.

“And, I think it’s time to open the wine”, Steve said feeling quite contented.




Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

no direction Home

         The block at the  crossroads


The lights are flashing orange Steve is uncertain whether to speed up and go through or to hesitate and stop.   He thinks it is best to wait and assess the situation.          He has travelled this way many times before and yet at this crossroad he feels confused and senses fear and panic arising. At this point is choices are limited and yet they could all take him where he needs to go eventually.

Keep travelling straight and head along a path well worn, while this dierection is well known to him he is still unsure if it is the right way and what lies at the final destination. He knows what he wants is there somewhere and yet he is not sure where or how far it is because the full journey has never been travelled.


He could turn left, that would be easy and Steve likes to take the easy route.

While it may be a little easier it is not always quicker and there can often be many obstacles or detours along the way.

If he turns right against the traffic having to wait till it is sage to cross with a clear unimpeded flow. This way is sometimes quicker despite having to wait at several intersections, there are less diversions on this route, however the conditions may change during the journey and this will make travelling more stressful.


To the outside observer Steve looks like he is in some kind of trance maybe he is stoned or drunk or something he just seems to be still sitting there looking straight ahead clueless.

He appears to be awake yet he has no signs of life recognisable signs of existence of who he is or where he is.


Steve is abruptly awoken from his day-dream trance

and forced to make some form of decision about which way to go.


Unlike Robert Johnson Steve is not willing to sell his soul to enhance his talents.

He’s not sure if he really believes in the Devil, but often prays to God just to make sure and ask for any guidance or assistance; he hasn’t yet been struck with a thunderbolt giving him instant enlightenment or the answers to his questions – but, no harm in trying, it feels good, & feels like he is at least trying something.


Steve knows he must continue his journey and there is no turning back.

Steve is on a quest, he is searching for something he’s sure he once had and thinks he must have lost it somewhere. He’s not sure when he lost it or where, doubts it will still be there if he goes back to find it. So, he’s hoping to find something similar or create another one, and the search must continue – he just hopes he will recognise it and know what to do when he finds it.


Steve thinks that if he had a clue where he lost it then maybe he’ll know how to find it. There are so many places and / or occasions where it could have been lost.


He wonders if he lost it at Primary school so many years ago. Maybe Mrs Wills took it while saying stupid things. He could have lost it in a tree hiding waiting to be found or was it during the fight on the upper oval?


Maybe it was lost one time in a car parked in the bushes alongside the river.

So many things happened in those bushes near the river, some delightful, some clouded in smoke, some a little dangerous, many times too drunk.

The same beautiful River he loved to explore as a child, go swimming, and fishing.

A place of fantastic times and fond warm memories. Steve did spend a great deal of time visiting The River and it did mark the spot where so much happened, so, maybe it was lost and lies amongst the paper-bark trees near The River.


Steve has spent a great deal of time and energy pondering and searching looking for it or at least getting an idea where it might be found. He feels he has come close several times without winning the prize. He has consulted scientists, doctors, academics, artists, wisemen, gurus, and witches to help him unlock the mystery.

The question still remains and journey continues.


Steve shook himself to full awakeness and realized regardless of his current situation he had to make a decision and move on. He looked up and saw a sign, it wasn’t metaphoric, mystical, or divine it was actual; a sign pointing to The Great Eastern Highway, he figured it might not be as challenging and potentially dangerous as the highway to hell, but, it seemed promising and that is where he headed.Hit the high way and hope he finds his own way.


It’s not always about the destination, it’s the journey and the discoveries found along the way.












Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

I’m Charlie; who are you?

Aussie As


“ah; here we go, which polite line of questioning will this guy go with”, Steve thought as his new best mate tells him how he loves Bali, but is worried about the bloody Muslims.

“Yeah, mate I’ve been to Asian countries and I love it”, my drinking companion said.

“You mentioned something about Malaysia”, he asked while nodding toward me.

“yep”; I replied.

I went to Singapore and Malaysia a few years ago Singapore was awesome, and Malaysia was fantastic. We didn’t go far in Malaysia; K.L for a few days then down to Penang”; he continued proudly.

“I liked Penang, and enjoyed going to Kuala Lumpur, it was a very interesting place and very different to any other place I’d been. You notice the Muslims there, some of it was a bit full on with the `call to pray` and everything like that”, he said to conclude while having a swig of his beer.


“um, sorry you’re not Islamic are ya mate, I mean you seem like real good bloke and um er errr” the bloke muttered apologetically.


This is when Steve thought what role or identity should he play here, this guy wasn’t offensive as such, he wasn’t angry and wasn’t that pissed that he would get too confused or upset intentionally  – so he might listen politely and comprehend.


“nah, your right mate, I’m not Muslim; no worries”, Steve replied


“yeah, yeah I kinda knew that your Asian not Muslim and your drinking beer in the pub”, the bloke said with a little chuckle while having a good swig of his beer.


“well I’m sort of Asian, but mostly just a simple mongrel Aussie who loves a beer”, Steve said as he took a long slow drink of his beer.


“you certainly speak good english and seem to be able to handle your drink for a little skinny bloke”, my new mate said with a laugh.


The barman interrupted our little introductory exchange nodded to me and asked; “same again mate?”


“Yep, that be great thanks”, Steve said without hesitation.


“Na, I’ll get it, and one for myself”, the other bloke said with a magisterial flurry;

“Yeah, I’ll buy a drink for me new mate here”, he added as he gestured toward me.


“Um, Dave”, he added as he offered his hand.


Steve introduced himself and said; “Thanks, I’m ok, rather get my own, don’t want to get in a round, and I’m drinking Kilkenny, it’s a little more expensive”.


“Don’t worry, that’s cool, I’ll get one too and it’s my shout, I’ve been doing okay”, Dave said with jovial pride.


We exchanged more bar-room chit chat for while and then Dave said; “wow what is this beer, it tastes nice, but it’s heavy like drinking liquid mud?”


“It’s Kilkenny Irish Ale, it’s a bit like Guinness, but lighter”, Steve answered.


“Ha, next you’ll be telling me you’re Irish”, Dave goffered.


“Nope not quite just another Aussie with distant Irish heritage who happens to love a good yarn and a cold drink”, Steve chimed.


“ah mate; you’re Aussie as”, said as he raised his drink to Steve in a salute of solidarity.


Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , | Leave a comment