Monday, 22 September 2014

September 22: Déjà vu all over again ...

Déjà vu all over again, I’ve done this all before
Yesterday, tomorrow, today it's just once more
I stand, I talk, I sit back down, while witnesses have their say
We all sit in pursuit of justice, just like yesterday

But really it’s not like before, no two days are the same
And every case is different, it’s never the same game
The facts, the truth, the evidence, every witness tells it new
Even if it’s the same event, you’ll get a different view

Five people on a corner, watch a Ute race through the red
And smash into a Greyhound bus, he's lucky no-one’s dead
But one witness saw the bus go first, the next described a truck
Stark differences in descriptions, is their observation just pot luck

What is it that the jurors think, when they wrestle with the facts
Do they make concessions, that your memory is not intact
Can they make allowances, for the ravages of time
I like doing what I’m doing and I’m glad that role’s not mine

Sunday, 21 September 2014

September 21: Dementia's got another one ...

Dementia’s got another; Malcolm Young cannot remember
What he did just yesterday, much less back in September
A rock and roller all his life, a founder of that band
That some of us grew up with, though we’ll never understand

Angus he’s the younger, been a schoolboy all his years
But Malcolm he won’t understand, while Angus sheds his tears
They’ve rocked and rolled with millions, hits made by the score
It’s sad to say but it is true, not with Malcolm any more

Forty years of music, he’s played on every stage
Not long clocked up sixty, it gets us all that thing called age
We’ll miss him like a brother, we are saddened by his fate
And the schoolboy will continue, though without his closest mate

It is so sad, but he’s not alone, others will share his world
No-one knows what life serves up, how your flag will be unfurled
But for AC/DC we all hold a flame, and I’ll make with you a bet
Like Bowie, Chisel and the Stones, that band we won’t forget

Saturday, 20 September 2014

September 20: Our jury has come back to us ...

Our jury has come back to us, three days consideration
They listened to the evidence, given great deliberation
Of what they heard from witnesses, who years ago were boys
Eleven, twelve, so very young, they were someone else’s toys

Four weeks of nasty evidence, they’ve listened to each word
He said that they were liars, well that was just absurd
Unpleasant though it must have been, they sat and heard it all
We pressed it hard on their behalf, we had to see him fall

Repeated clear descriptions, I’ll trade you sex for things
Your parents will not give you, but you know I will bring
Beer and money, cigarettes, I’ll even give you pot
In my car, and at my home, I’m not asking for a lot

Forty, thirty, twenty years, decades they passed by
Then one young many came forward, told his story while he cried
The net it just grew larger, more names came to the fore
Eight men told there story, but there must be many more

Ten counts of interference with the lives of boys so young
One he took his own life, when he felt he could not go on
But the jury came back settled, and in that they sealed his fate
Ten from ten convictions, it’s back to jail old mate

She’ll sentence in December, he’ll be sixty three
I betting he’ll get fifteen years, we’d like longer you’d agree
But no-one gets the maximum, but here there’s no excuse
He preyed on boys for fifty years, he never be let loose

Friday, 19 September 2014

September 19: Can you see inside my feelings ...

Every picture tells a story, in every image there’s a tale
Can you see inside my feelings, what do you sense as I exhale 
Does the cold expose my breathing, as my lungs deflate then fill
What is it you are seeing, as I lay there deathly still

My eyes are closed but seeing, as you stand there wondering why
Can you see inside my feelings, as my heart begins to cry
Does the night it hide expression, can you see it on my face
What is it you are feeling, as you stand there in that place

I lie there still not moving, as you reach to touch my hair
Can you see inside my feelings, because I know that you are there
Does my face betray my senses, when you touched me did I move
What is it you are feeling, with your fingers soft and smooth

When my eyelids move I see you, your silhouette there in the dark
Can you see inside my feelings, as I lie here in the park
Does the grass disclose the colour, of my blood as it escapes
What is you are feeling, as you look down at the shapes

My breathing now is shallow, beside me now you lie
Can you see inside my feelings, as my life it starts to die
Does the sound of sirens reach you, I can hear them very near
What is it you are feeling, my face catches all your tears

The sound of running footsteps, their voices strong and loud
I can see inside your feelings, as around me forms a crowd
Don’t cry for me my precious, be strong, you must go on
What is it I am feeling; it’s nothing, I am gone

Thursday, 18 September 2014

September 18: Little boy lost ...

There’s a little boy who's lost, out there on his own
His parents searching desperately
To bring their small boy home
Moments turn to minutes, and the hours slip away
And as optimism turns to hope, her eyes begin to glaze

Dressed in his favourite costume, he wandered down a track
That led to unforgiving bush
Please son, double back
But the hours turn into afternoons, and they turn into days
Hope turns into desperation, and his eyes begin to glaze

Searchers in their numbers, they come to lend a hand
That a little boy could disappear
Not one can understand
While the days turn into darkness, and the darkness into dawn
Desperation turns to fear, is their little boy now gone

Hope it never completely dies, belief it never wanes
But no matter how hopeless or obscure
They’ll forever feel that pain
And the darkness it gets darker, as all hope it disappears
Their little boy is gone for good, confirming all their fears

Tuesday, 16 September 2014

September 17: Has my writing streak just disappeared ...

Has my writing streak now disappeared, if it has, it’s what I feared
I cannot find a rhyme to use, have they arrived, the writing blues
I’m crying out for inspiration, my only adjective, frustration
The days roll by, so very fast, and this rhyme here could be the last

Verbs and nouns and adjectives, deep inside's where motivation lives
Connecting words with ones that rhyme, I need to do it, every time
So many words, so many lines, pronouns injected, just to combine
This entire mass of enunciation, but I think for now, I’ll stay on station

September 16: I am a foreign diplomat ...

I am a foreign diplomat you can't get me 
I have this thing called immunity
I ignore your road rules, I often drink and drive 
Frankly I'm amazed that I am still alive 

I argue with your coppers, and I don't care at all 
Someone else will pick me up if I should take a fall 
You call me to your office, you slap me on the wrist 
You need to settle down a bit, I'm going to get pissed 

Your laws are very interesting, but they don't apply to me
There's an exception for us diplomats, look it up and you will see
Don't take that tone please Constable, can't you see I'm on the phone 
Run along and solve some crime, but please leave me alone

Monday, 15 September 2014

September 15: Happy birthday to me ...

Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me
Happy birthday, happy birthday, I am fifty-three
So now that I have said that, let me just say this
If you’d said thirty years ago, I’d have said, “Don’t take the piss”

When I went from single figures, I was really pretty small
I did grow up, eventually, but I never got real tall
At twenty-one I’d done six years, serving in the Navy
Sailing all around the world, on oceans deep and wavy

At twenty-five I tied the knot, our lives were rearranged
At thirty I was still at sea, but looking for a change
Then I started law school, at the age of thirty-five
When I finished four years later, I was very much alive

Before too long the thirties, were just a distant memory
And in the wink of a short working day, I was forty-three
I left the Navy, went out alone, working at the Bar
For a while it was quite scary, but I got through without a scar

So on this day, I’m here in Court, my mind is bending, where’s that thought
My final address, to the Jury, as I unleash, words filled with fury
With age comes wisdom, so they say, I’ll try to read that book someday
But for now, I’m fifty-three, please come share my day with me

Sunday, 14 September 2014

September 14: Oscar - Did he do it ...

So Oscar he is guilty, his crime it is manslaughter
The victim was his girlfriend, but someone else’s daughter
What they and others want to know, is will he go to jail
They wonder if the learned Judge, listened fully to the tale

Only one bloke knows the truth, and he’s said all he is saying
We don’t know if he meant to kill, or if he was just playing
Bullets in a darkened door, we may never know the truth
Is Oscar just lying, or has he told the truth

Whatever is the honest truth, it doesn’t matter much
Reeva’s dead, his life is gone, he’s lost his hero’s touch
Bladerunner once, oh yes he was, but that moniker has gone
If he doesn’t go to jail, how can his life go on

He’ll never have the life he had, I think that much is a given
I know for sure he wants one thing, and that’s Reeva with the living
But now it is all over, will he go to jail or not
I’m not bloody expert, and I don’t care one jot

Saturday, 13 September 2014

September 13: The finals are here ...

The finals are here; yep, I’ve waited all year
But my efforts at tipping are not worth warm beer
My team isn’t in it, but that don’t matter a jot
I can’t wait to see what the others have got

Manly got a mauling at the hands of the Bunnies
The Roosters and Penrith, I’m watching for Sonny
Later tonight come the teams from the north
The Bronc’s and the Cowboys, only one will come forth

The other bows out, while the winner goes on
And tomorrow will see yet another one gone
At six o’clock Sunday, the Dogs or the Storm
Will play on next week, when just six will perform

Wednesday, 10 September 2014

September 10: A new iPhone 6 ...

iPhone 6 has all the tricks; bigger, better, faster
I hope they fixed the battery life, my 5 is a disaster
A decent day of talk and text, and on the train to home
Halfway through my one hour trip, I do not have a phone

Its seamless lines are so, so fine, so clear and crisp and nice
But if I do have just one complaint, it is about the price
A thousand bucks, well more than that, we all have to pay
To get one in our pockets, but I won’t back away

The camera is a beauty, even better than before
And I’ve taken heaps of photos, so now I’ll take some more
Silver, gold and spacy grey, which one should I pick
I don’t care, I’ve ordered one, these phones are fully sick

Tuesday, 9 September 2014

September 9: Hey referee, what do you see ...

Hey referee, what do you see, do you see the same as me
That ball went four feet forward, what exactly did you see
Just where were you looking, where was your concentration
There’s two of you for goodness sake, you should be on probation

The obstruction rule it has you fooled, you do not have a clue
Did he run behind him, is that why he got right through
Was the tackler impeded, or did his choice just lack some skill
Stop watching other runners, keep your eye right on the pill

You’re not alone, pick up the phone, and put a call upstairs
There’s four of you to get it right, get on top of your affairs
If you can’t recall who threw the ball, please return your card
There’s too much at stake out there, and refereeing, it ain’t that hard

Monday, 8 September 2014

September 8: Hey there Mr. Pedophile ...

Hey there Mr. Pedophile, come and play a while with me
Coz I’ve got this Indictment, where your name is clear to see
Sit a while, just over there, just on that wooden bench
Not too close, please understand, I cannot stand the stench

I’ve just got this tale to tell, just hang about a second
As I bring in your younger friends, each boy he will be beckoned
Just listen while each tells us, just how his trust you killed
Just listen while he tells us, how your perverted wants he filled

But let the jury now decide whether your conduct is depraved
Lucky some young boys spoke up, many more were saved
It won’t be long I’m guessing, before your fate is sealed
And your life in segregation starts, and other lives are healed

Sunday, 7 September 2014

September 7: Lap after lap ...

My eyes are on the long black line as I breathe from side to side
Up and down, up and down, my lungs are stretched inside
Fifteen done, fifteen to go, I hope I don't lose track
The line and tiles below my gaze, keep your eyes upon the black

I watch the line to keep on course, arms over, over, over
Breathe both sides every second round, much like a weary drover
I’ve been doing this for decades now, always coming back from more
Swimming’s such an easy thing; it’s never been a chore

I’ll be back again in two days time, to swim another mile
It’s easier than it was yesterday; I’d not done it for a while
Relaxation, exhilaration, it winds me down with peace and quiet
A really, really good thing to do, really, you should try it

Saturday, 6 September 2014

September 6: Big bang in Rozelle ...

Last week an explosion killed three
At Rozelle t’was a pure tragedy
Killed man, woman and child
Evidence being compiled
What happened we have to wait and see

A man in the shop down below
He was there when his shop it did blow
Was he setting it light
In the darkness of night
Or what happened there does he not know

Forensics went in when they could
They can tell if it’s bad or it’s good
Was he cooking the pot
Was it arson or not
Or is the owner just misunderstood

Friday, 5 September 2014

September 5: There's a gum tree out in our front yard ...

There’s a gum tree out in our front yard that’s bursting into flower
As the Cocky’s pick it twig from twig, hour after hour
The ground below is littered, with remnants of our tree
Those large white birds with yellow crests, they are a sight to see

They sit there safe in numbers, camouflaged from sight
The yellow peaks meld with the flowers, their feathers crispy white
Squawking, talking, as they pick, what is their conversation
As they denude my favourite tree, to my increasing agitation

There’s no point calling out to them, they know they’re safe up high
And even if they do depart, back to the tree they’ll fly
Continuing their pruning, as the strip the gum of flowers
And I sit out on my balcony, watching, hour after hour

Thursday, 4 September 2014

September 4: What is it with this rain ...

Spring has sprung, the rain has come, the grass is wet and soggy
Most mornings when I look outside, the Gorge is cold and foggy
The bikes sit in the garage, covered, cold but dry
And if I don’t get a ride this week, I promise I will cry

One day I get the fan out, the next day the heater’s on
Monday is just paradise, on Tuesday summer’s gone
Wednesday I get the brolly out, Thursday it goes away
Winter, summer, autumn, what season’s next today

I’m over it, I’ve lost the plot, who cares what happens next
It isn’t just me you know, the whole country is perplexed
So tomorrow when it’s Saturday, and there’s chores I want to do
If Mother Nature lets me down, I’ll be putting on a blue

Wednesday, 3 September 2014

September 3: ICAC are recruiting ...

ICAC are recruiting, because they may not have enough
Staff to properly analyse, all the dodgy stuff
The stuff they have collected, from places near and far
That exposes all the liars, with stories quite bizarre

Scalps in growing numbers, are pinned up on the wall
Pillars of society? I don’t get it, not at all
They’re in it for self-interest, that is obvious to me
If they lie and steal let’s lock them up, do you not agree

I’m over their excuses, their denials and their lies
A lack of pure integrity, has led to their demise
I don’t know the answer, how to prevent all this corruption
The more that go to ICAC, the greater the eruption

Tuesday, 2 September 2014

September 2: Once there was a pedophile ...

Once there was a pedophile who lived up on the coast
Liked little boys and their toys, but little boys the most
As far back as the seventies he plied his evil trade
But now he’s sitting in the dock, a price he now will pay

He met them at the pool hall, with drugs and cigarettes
Befriended them, drew them in, they thought he was the best
But inside an evil mind it grew, his motive so disgusting
At first he played very cool, ‘til mum and dad were trusting

Some men came from Belmont, to give evidence in my trial
The tell us just what happened, at the hands of the pedophile
Now their in their fifties, but forty years ago
A monster took them to a place, they did not want to go

Come up to the quarry lad, I’ll let you drive my car
Sure young man take over, we won’t drive very far
Just let my put my hand right there, it won’t hurt you, not a bit
It’s our little secret, understand, your dad would have a fit

For decades he sourced his prey, much younger than he was
Got caught once in the 80’s, “Well I did it, just … because”
He gave up full admissions; he walked off with a bond
That could not suppress his evil mind, justice, it got conned

He continued through the eighties, the nineties to today
The first trials nearly over, I think he will be put away
Sentenced to imprisonment, he’ll go into segregation
Coz rock spiders they come to harm, for their inclination

Next week the next trial begins, and then there are three more
How many more poor young boys, as men come through that door
Memories that terrify, nightmares that leave you cold
They now wish they had come forward, before it got this old

The longer it’s kept secret, the harder it is to tell
And I’ve seen them giving evidence, to me they don’t look well
But their bravery does them credit, to get up and show their pain
So others won’t have to suffer, at this man’s hands again