It’s about a park ranger

The ranger sits there falling thinking he should put his cards on the table
He waits for the right moment to lie down, he needs to lie down
He makes air out of the water even though he wanted to drown
He breathes in sadly making His chest shudder and swell
He sits lonely thinking Why he resigned himself to this deadly hell
And the snakes begin sliding towards him and falling from the roof
And the wasps, frogs and locusts slip through the cracks in the floorboards and windows
He’s suffocating as the frogs climb over his legs and arms

Advertisements

Tourism; at what cost?

Why I want to climb Ayres Rock.

7 News just promoted Jetstar Australia’s new budget-priced direct flights from Brisbane to Uluru, not mentioning once the cultural significance of the landmark.jetstar

Despite the natural and spiritual import Uluru holds with First Nations and conservationists alike, it is still being climbed and with more than 10 % of visitors opting to climb the rock and… why not? The climb will be closed for good on October 26 2019, might as well get going while the goings good.

“hundreds of thousands of people every year flock to Uluru to see the rock, now thirty thousand people from Brisbane will be able to appreciate its natural beauty.” 7 News.

Yeah, let’s climb Ayres Rock! Let’s help exacerbate erosion and add to the permanent scars on the great big rock. It’s just a rock anyway, and if we need to go to the toilet, we’ll just shit on the mountain and let the fragile ecosystem deal with it. Later we can watch all the dried faeces cascade down into the only water source animals have for miles.

Yeah, it’s just a rock, who cares? It’s not that it is a sacred site for an ancient people of the worlds oldest civilisation. It’s not that it’s exactly the same as defecating on the Sistine Chapel or the Notre Dame Cathedral, it’s more that I don’t care that it is.

Climbers literally crush the eggs of one of the areas rarest animals, the tadpole shrimp lives on Uluru and their eggs are adapted to long periods of drought and are hatched by rain. The shrimp are on the verge of extinction. But, it’s just a rock and they are just a part of one of the rarest and most fragile ecosystems on earth.

Besides, at 179 dollars direct from Brisbane, who’s complaining? Maybe it’ll spark a plane ticket price war and we can travel all over Australia destroying sacred landmarks and cultural icons.  According to Seven News, it’s on “most international tourists bucket lists” so I’m just going to forget about the great sadness and responsibility the Anangu people feel whenever a fatality or injury happens on the climb and go for it!

The Northern Territory is astounding in its beauty as it represents Australian uniqueness and nature in its grandeur but, unfortunately, it is most known for its stony desert Island, Uluru. Which is why most tourists travel to the NT even though they could witness some amazing natural beauty just up the road. The NT is packed full of natural wonders and White Australia decides they need to climb a rock that has nothing to do with them.

101 different tours and experiences? Nah, I’m climbing the rock.

 

Reciprocated

Drink it in as time leads it on till we stop acknowledging
Into the moments that fleet for it’s there
And your soul weeps into eternity
for that built up tension you let escalate
And we are, so we are, so we are.
Oomph

And now I’m melting into the sides of every shape
these shapes collide as I slip through the cracks.
And fall flat on a circle.
Lights flicker on and off and on and off.
Oomph

My eyes swelter in the heat
My mind tries to lift itself out of its state.
It’s alright, it’s only fate.
Oomph

Sweet minutes pass by.
Enjoyed by the love of my life.
Oomph

Recklessness devotes itself to me.
Oomph

Take A Walk Son.

Into the bush, we listen…
As the water moves & slowly carves toward the city where we hold our hearts ransom.
And the brown rocks and red dirt get covered and shifted and dispossessed.
Leaves pile up uncertain how long they will be there.
And Movement happens like a classical piece minus the love, minus the emotion.

We breathe life and exhale into this world from the one screeching our names.
And as we move innocently the wind brushes past with force that makes the might trees rumble and your body shiver and quake.
And you examine time as a makeshift answer because society has its problems so each raindrop is a minute that teaches you to move faster until you need to stop and observe your footing and witness mushrooms shaped like orange peels and gumnuts chewed up and flicked casually by the rulers of the skies.

Do you think we make an impact as we step carelessly into a puddle?
Or nip an odd mushroom with our heels as it flourishes on this tough, gritty terrain!
Silence but winds & our footsteps as we make our solemn march home.

Agua Luca (Fin)

Juan asked Albert what he was doing there, the ghost grinned slyly. Juan gathered what strength he could and stood up, the world waved around him but the apparition didn’t falter, Juan took the box away from Albert and it burnt his hands, he tried to open the box but it was to hot, he pushed it back towards Albert but Albert only stared at Juan.

The box hit the ground and Gold, silver and precious stones were pouring out of it, first in increments, then, in a constant outpour it slowly filled up the cell and Juan couldn’t move from where he stood. Albert just fixed his eyes on Juan’s and Juan was held in this gaze as the treasure started encroaching his chest. The treasure soon drowned Juan and he died the horrific death of being smothered by cold hard metal.

Agua Luca (continued)

He didn’t want to cook tonight though, so he thought he might make his way down to the Joint. They (Juan and his two friends) called it the Joint because if they were all there at once, at least one of them was likely to get thrown in the drunk tank.

Juan never felt like cooking and was always at the Joint, he doesn’t see his two friends often anymore. It suited him, because he had nothing to say.

When he arrived at the Joint it was 6:30 the only person there was the chef, she asked Juan how he was going and Juan assured her he was fine and asked if he could come in, she said yes. The owner arrived fifteen minutes later saw Juan and asked him if he brought anything for Mina to cook. Juan told him that his catch was pathetic and he spent most of the day shooing seagulls. Juan failed to tell him that he had woken up far past dawn and had only spent two hours on the boat. The owner shrugged and asked if Juan would like some dinner. Juan said not yet and asked for a pint of their cheapest beer.

Benjamin soon arrived, this shocked Juan slightly, he was expecting to have another lonely night in the tavern. Benjamin was hungry so they both ordered the Chefs Caldereta because it was always delicious and the least expensive on the menu.

Benjamin had news, but waited, Juan wasn’t sure why, perhaps he wanted to have one last normal dinner. Benjamin told Juan that their mutual friend Albert had died diving out in the rocky outcrops of their lake.

This confused Juan, Albert was the best swimmer in the village and usually fished out there with his nets because he was the only one who was consistent enough to be able to dive in every time he got his nets tangled. He always had the most interesting catches.

Apparently, Albert had received judgement from the lord early, and drowned experiencing an aneurysm.

Juan and Benjamin spent the entire night drinking for another and both ended up in the drink tank. The cop told them to sleep it off and as Juan phased in and out of his drunken slumber he thought he saw Albert standing in the cell with him dripping seawater all over the floor, Albert was holding a smouldering box with red hot embers sizzling where it touched Alberts wet hands. He had thrusted it out as far as he could and Juan asked him what the box was, but Albert just stared grimly.

Agua Luca (introduction)

“Move! …I said move!” the seagulls paid no notice of the captain. Pfft a captain. Juan Ignom laughed at the title! He just didn’t want these damn birds shitting on his fucking boat. He’s no fucking captain, he’s just a man who owns a boat, it’s pitiful. A little boat on a little lake, he just made enough for dinner.

Candle and Coal

Candle and Coal

Into blackness these souls drift

you see them and they are so real

you think you can save them but it is impossible

that’s final.

Resonating only with pain and sorrow; it won’t continue.

Our love was a bold statement

it’s now seemingly burning down into a stub like a candle stuck on a table that has only ever been scratched and graffitied on.
Becoming nothingness, meaninglessness.

It is subtle and it creeps and it lets you know it’s there and it’s going to wear you down till you’re fresh again and nothing about it is sudden except the initial shock, accept the initial shock, every day because the shock wears down and eventually you are left with the numbness.

As you know and feel your heart it is continuously colluding with the souls that are drifting, that have fled, that have moved into darkness.

And you are left with your little soul that thrived off the love of a few big souls but now has no fuel to burn its flame and you cry out for something to burn but you are left with a little piece of coal and no hope.

You want to leave as well, and your soul is screaming to drift into the blackness, it has already moved so far over there that you haven’t one really, and it is waiting for you to make that final move, to embrace the new home of its friends.

Another candle is brought just before your candle was to burn out and leave a scorch mark on your derelict table.
You did not make it in time and foolishly you let it burn out.
You curse yourself and curse the fact that this love is now only a mark that will be there always to remind you of how you lost it.

Your piece of coal isn’t alight anymore and you dig through the ashes to find something hot, something real, because you need something to light your new candle with, you burn your hands and search deep amongst the ash and cinder and find another piece of black coal with speckles of red and you reach for the candle and press it against the red, you are patient and blow, hard, and desperately.

The candle catches alight and you melt its base to the wretched table that mocks your mistakes.

You melt the candles’ base right next to the old scorch mark.

An old friend goes out and fells a tree for your sake,
Another friend chops it up.
A new friend gathers kindling and dried leaves and builds it above your little black coal.

A recommendation

Grinning,

I let my teeth bare witness to the aching of this moment.

And hope they show I mean well as I cringe at my own unfortunate state as without a shred of charisma I ooze out hopelesness as I talk to people I care about.

In and deep Im sure it’ll be made better some day.

Have you read A.B Faceys ‘A Fortunate Life’ I recommend it.

Pain as an institution.

Mark my safety on a line between dredge and transparency

Indicate where I’ll be in a year for the wellbeing of dependency

Instigate a moment that will make me worry for a while

End it for the time being and drink the tears of the nile

Produce the openness that we need desperately

Into each second, my friends I will leave

I will be alone and, in a moment, I won’t have a scare.

I will be alone and, in a moment, I won’t be a part of it.

But we can parley often enough for confusion

I will meet you on the edge of destitution.

And we can drink the blood of the committed.

Their screams are worth the bitterness that I swish around my teeth.

And my tongue loves the flavour but my stomach will reject it.

Make us vomit up the mess to a believing few.

And they will lap it up like thirsty dogs.