05 January 2015

Did You Say Halls Creek

Halls Creek I hear you say - and what’s in it for 
me? Well, nothing, unless you’ve invested cash 
in growth of a mega-urbanity planned by goat’s 
beard & crew - but you’d’ve needed to’ve been 
aboard that graft wagon some time back, so no, 
there’s nothing in it for the likes of us small fry - 
we’ll only see ‘planned’ development disasters 
in retrospect - and well after its denial at that 

However it is pleasing anomies usual route was 
distinctly constrained; it’s mostly run the course 
in this instance - corrupting no one except State 
planners - who’re livid, and the few Councillors 
covertly scheming for filthy riches because they 
can - the alternative’s an East Beerwah plan 

And there’s the irony, it is pristine land without 
the urban sprawl of Halls Creek - so why even 
go through the motions - but we’ll be played in 
a fools game for a pot of gold we’ll never see; 
its the facile way of State level bureaucracy & 
and its inane urban planning pettifoggery 
© 26 November 2014, I. D. Carswell

02 January 2015


So I say to me mate, whatcha gonna do, stay 
‘ere ’n scratch while thinkin’; nah - it’d be too 
hard he says, I’ll just scratch, ‘n fart a bit; ok, 
so no change t’ th’ status quo being th’ same 
as always I reply, like, when it arrives wind ‘n 
thinkin’ are alike, as if that’s all that it means  
in ‘actual’ relief; odd you’d call it palliation he 
laughs, but you’ve still gotta breathe 

And he’s right of course, farts as thinkin’ isn’t 
as easy as it appears t’ be unless you’ve had 
acres of practice - and believe me there’s no 
irony in the room needed to survive - but in a 
sense the relief of making the grade teaches 
cogitative forms its expression really needs 

© 4 December 2014, I. D. Carswell

01 January 2015

Moving Between

No, not afraid of a future that secures the past 
in a far safer place - and no, not afraid of what 
seem to be changes; that remaining insecurity 
is in thoughts of who’ll be confused - or rather 
who’ll be unable to view the harmony of same 

it is a scene we’ve been thru’ - there were few 
years it wasn't deemed ordinary when random 
happenings piled up to look so commonplace, 
a very bespoke view and in a sense the same 
scene we’re experiencing, if we’ve a care to 

so we’ll move between icons of whom we are - 
there won’t be changes like non-recognition or 
new identities - underneath these events is an 
untarnished continuity that bemuses only they 
who see permanence as datum-time-stamped 

but that was not to be in ‘tacit’ rearrangement; 
unity measured in dispossessed personalities 
no longer aligned to each-other’s druthers are 
freed to fly away - thus a synchronicity of year 
on year’s intent plays events from its memory 

so we move sideways in time gathering more 
of a less pedantic momentum, sliding into the 
cleft of congruent contemporaneity, settle into 
a quiet new space the exact like of that which 
we probably never needed to leave …

© 29 November 2014, I. D. Carswell

31 December 2014


Change within the moving wind; it is like a portent 
of an era’s irascible end: and then it’s recitation of 
events with yet-to-be-told ‘there’s no denying this’ 
complementarity, like we are in the drift and so be 
in it or be square; remember, you’re already there 

Rationalising your home’s where your head rests 
pillowed easiest in diaphanous dichotomy spares 
the heart’s agony, but you’d moved there already; 
you knew it when winds whispered the wisdom to 
see rooms where there’d never been such space 

It was like waking in wonderland where the rabbit 
left an ‘eat me’ cake, meaning more than allegory 
for the consumption of dreams; or were they true 
reflections of who dwells in a reality where being 
eaten’s the most grateful appreciation’s extreme

Taste this piece of me - is it the relief you sought 
in a slice of ambiguity baked to a recipe’s perfect 
recitation; even you care for rare company - and 
if it aggregates more than a duality of its singular 
expression - then already we’re home free 

© 8 December 2014, I. D. Carswell

30 December 2014

Boredom’s Hours

There is more to life than playing solitaire 
even if its the Full Deck Klondike 3 Card; 
but there is the irony - what is life without 
it? Less for than against nothing I recall - 
(I’m guessing) somehow abetted by 18%
win ratio; yet a sanity still prevails where 
frustration tears hair off of an 'academic' 
equanimity you’d’ve only dreamt about 

Inspiration to write scoots between the 
blank walls of time’s passage - skilfully 
negotiating boredom’s trail, & the mad 
moments of impeccable insight - there 
indicted for its incendiary gluttony, too 
alfresco to tame to an epicure’s desk 

© 3 December 2014, I. D. Carswell

29 December 2014

Blue Grenadier

An idea hoki fillet barbecue-cooked in a 
chef’s stainless steel frypan is far away 
topmost culinary grace isn’t too fey of a 
sobering reality; blue grenadier or hake 
as a species isn’t surviving an erstwhile 
popularity; if it’s to endure, we will need 
cease eating it - or find other easy prey 
with similar extremely savoury flavours 

But the guts of it is in the fish being that 
exemplar of the best available for those 
ubiquitous fast-food ‘fillet o’ fish’ snacks; 
and in that too damn process-easy in an 
industry preyed to death by avarice - la, 
c’est la vie, it’ll cease to exist, tout suite 

© 15 November 2014, I. D. Carswell

28 December 2014

Leave It To Chance

Living 'with elegance' is like having a 
gods ear; - it’s in a description where 
relevance shows majestic ascendency 
over whatever eyes see - it may seem 
innocent but an instance is, never say - 
‘this here’s a spot’ - regardless what its 
cause is you’ve broken rule #1, which 
is to see only where the elegance is 

So we dry plates to put away; - not an 
exacting task but spots appear where  
practised eyes believe they needn’t be; 
are these off of the sideboard then is a 
wiser play than - you didn’t wash ‘em!; 
saying it allows free breathing space 

But truth’s wiser with placing jeopardy 
in a neutral stance - if we simply clean 
off the offending spots enhancing what 
we see a no-prejudice opportunity with 
good grace - will she grant a need for 
glasses - or do we leave it to chance 

© 9 December 2014, I. D. Carswell

27 December 2014

Christmas Lights

So maybe I am an eco-adept who’s been 
tardy recognising it - and yet this analogy 
for ‘christmas lights’ split the atom for me 

The plant genus is Cereus - we’ve lots of 
‘em climbing trees - but more particularly 
a pergola where that display now begins 

A night-flowering cactus bloom has scent 
on wings, believe me, yet viewing it in full 
flush is an utterly enervating experience 

Couple that with this flowering happening 
uniquely on Xmas Day and you’ll see my 
sense of christmas lights as symmetry - 

Feel a deeper meaning in the ecology of 
natural events - make a burlesque of the 
crude attempts to synthesise such lights 

And think - we didn’t need ‘buy’ anything 
resembling gaudy decorations ‘dressing’ 
an idea of spiritual sense - or imagine it 

It was there and every element of reality 
we’d ever comprehended accompanied 
it gladly; and that’s just commencement 

Next we’ll see the fruit grow liberally into 
a richness of that essence - whether we
choose to share or feast won’t weight 

A burden on the conscience now freed 

© 27 December 2014, I. D. Carswell

26 December 2014


If it comes to a contest between hijab, yarmulka 
and lawyers in-court dress - I’d say prejudice is 
hidden more effectively by legal office ‘robes’

We could widen debate into any form of office 
regalia and find the same determination in any 
de jure rationalisation’s locum for reason 

Ideas any one word can be redefined to mean 
legalised arcadia gives Pan the door to where 
juridical anarchy finds humour indictable 

And they’re laughably attired in dress which 
says this is a standing joke - but don’t poke 
fun at it or you’ll regret ever mentioning it 

Especially in session - where all aims are to 
be fair and reasonable and within meanings 
ascribed by the same jurisdictional farce 

And they have the last word on it 

© 8 December 2014, I. D. Carswell

25 December 2014

The Long And Short Of It

No, not a solo barbecue, there were two of 
us, me admittedly being junior partner and
alfresco-food-doyen Podge ruling on menu 

his view’s anything done BBQ’ed’s OK - the 
long & short of it’s he’s the gov’nor - though 
today he’ll admit being too easily distracted 

he likes it hot off the embers thus Moroccan 
flavoured potato wedges were an ace in the 
hole - though his taste’s more cosmopolitan  

he played a full role sating immediate needs 
before realising T-bone steaks weren’t even 
on - and he’d been conned too obviously

but you’d agree, classy for a dog, he coped 
with aplomb - ensured the leftover account 
was administered with stringent propriety 

he’s now sacked out snoring, purporting the 
dottle was his original idea - it probably was; 
so tomorrow he can refill the gas bottle 

© 25 November 2014, I. D. Carswell

24 December 2014

Xmas Cards

We don’t read the classical text in it though we’re 
aware why its there in the card - might go back to 
it if its a doozy; but really, the deal is who’s a kind 
enough being to send Xmas greetings snail-mail; 
usually they are too far away to have said gidday 
to in the normal run of things - or they’re nearest 
and dearest anyway, the iconic ‘familials’ who’ve 
always been generously part of a family scene 

So we quickly scan casual scrawl, a handwritten 
event now rare in this day and age, to see who’s 
penned this and to whom we’ll send our grateful 
response quickly, cards received post Xmas are 
ridiculously passé; - and then special memories 
crescendo in a tenderness of fine times shared 

In the elegance of sentiment it bares 

© 11 December 2014, I. D. Carswell

23 December 2014

Emotional Analogy

In a sense it was like watching a NRL grand 
final, say Bulldogs versus Rabbitos - not for 
the game of course, politic’s no sport nor its 
players more heroic than th’ chaff dispersed 
after a rubbish bag burst. I thought I saw an 
emotional analogy in ways victors & losers 
displayed their temperament, all that stuff of 
poseurs & pique combined into resignation 

So, ideas State elections must impose the 
same melodrama as a grand final’s context 
in the sporting arena has a way to go; - yet 
Victoria kicked out the Coalition - voted in a 
Labor government after only one term; and 
what does it say for the ‘game’ they play 

My best guess is the voters don’t care for a 
long-term argument of what’s entertaining - 
grand finals represent a season’s end, glory 
and strategy are thence theatrically rested; 
it moots making politicians accountable for 
doing their job - not playing that game 

© 2 December 2014. I. D. Carswell

22 December 2014

An Xmas Cheer

It may not seem like the real event but 
posting a Santa Claus visa card to the 
grandkids will mean that intent has an 
element of their choice sanctioned; I’d 
imagine my eldest granddaughters will 
have clear ideas - the grandsons, well 
maybe - but spiderman underdaks are 
last year’s inspiration - and now passé 

Nevertheless there is intrigue afoot; if 
they’re given their choice we’ll be win 
win & Granddad might get mentioned 
in despatches - if they recall old hairy 
face as not too disgraceful a Pop that 
could froth our Xmas tot cheerfully  

© 25 November 2014, I. D. Carswell

21 December 2014

In The Breed

Its Koel season again, so love ‘em or shove ‘em  
& call ‘em what you will, rain bird, storm bird, or 
cuckoos that they really are, they will get to you  
eventually; and if not you, then to unsuspecting 
foster-parents diligently hatching one extra egg 
laid in their nest, raising a chick, who ruthlessly 
and without regret kicks their own offspring out 
because that’s the damn way of this freebooter 

Then when fully fledged at great expense to its  
thoroughly duped pair of foster-parents, leaves 
on a northward journey, maybe PNG or further, 
without offering thanks, goodbyes or regrets; a 
dissolute analogy of parasitism we sadly get in 
the breed now as members of our Parliament 

© 5 December 2014, I. D. Carswell

20 December 2014

Am I Dreamin’

That 3pm thunderstorm was was a non-event - 
while the rumbles promised everything it leant 
over backwards to upset only the dog; he was 
prostrate in the kitchen pretending while I, the 
weather guru, was miffed so few drops of rain 
descended from a threatening sky; why waste 
time spitting anything if birds don’t pause their 
singing - to me such desultory rain suggests 

That amazingly animated weather map is a 
malicious creation of recondite jest, & yes it 
went overhead on its way out to sea without 
disproportionately endangering anyone other  
than Podge’s inordinate sense of calm - and 
he affords me that accusatory canine glare 

I say, well mate here’s th’ bloody radar map, 
supposedly we’re ‘where Crohamhurst’s at’, 
or is that in error too; - heavy rain we were 
supposed to get missed us by millimetres - 
thunder’s everywhere but’ve y’ felt or seen 
a lightening strike to get so damned upset 

Crikey, says me mate Podge, turn y’ bloody 
hearing aids on ’n take off the shades - yer 
not back in the Army - see th’ power just flit 
or am I losing the plot too - and the rain’s a 
damn sight heavier ’n it’s been since 3 pm 
so maybe we’re screwed, or am I dreamin’ 
© 8 December 2014, I. D. Carswell

With all the drama we still only received 3.5mm

19 December 2014

Tinsel Time

Noticed the other day how we country folk 
see this Christmas ‘thingy’ a bit differently; 
out here seasonal decorating tends to be 
less of gaudy displays with an unstressed 
feature-permanence in concrete figurines 
of santa claus, mushrooms and reindeer - 
the flashing lights & tinsel might be there 
tho’ discrete and graciously understated 

Isn’t to say there aren’t those few who we 
think of as tragics failing to preserve rural 
tradition in practical and non-ostentatious 
festooning a farm ute, but there it was, an 
eyesore dressed in glitter, tinsel & flashy 
lights driving on the main road, by gad - 

Head-shaking only made it seem worse - 
so we hooted with laughter instead 

© 17 December 2014, I. D. Carswell

18 December 2014

In Any Cooee

The hoonies’ve been busy this week - they’ve 
renewed their burnout signatures freakishly at 
the same not-too-remote road junctions where 
traffic isn’t heavy, reasonably suggesting they 
are local teenagers whose tire-wear identities 
don’t seem to cause too much concern; that’s 
not alarming if we consider Glasshouse is the 
disparate rural locality we’re discerning here 

There’s enough wear-and-tear in dealing with 
off-the-road ideas proposed in this community 
so a few skiddies is neither here nor there - & 
given there’s no fatalities we’re aware of then 
it may be the only viable recreational outlet in 
any cooee they feel comfortable engaging in 

© 17 December 2014, I. D. Carswell

17 December 2014

More Vibrations

There is more to it isn’t there, the little errors 
were mere anomalies back when the picture 
spanned a whole of relativity - thus what has 
actually changed; we’re aware only of where 
we are and its physicality, perhaps, measure 
on measure it means there’s new presences 
to account for beyond the limits of the self in 
being singularly aware - or is there more me 

If it were truly thus then there’s more screws 
to undo than we’d ever allowed allusion to - 
don’t you see it explains why ‘we’ is still the 
same as I and ‘us’ the same as me, and yet 
nothing actually changed in that recognition 
except its vibrations became familiarity 

© 4 December 2014, I. D. Carswell

16 December 2014


We see idiosyncrasies are manifestly flammable - 
in two days cleansing fires wiped seemingly solid 
fortifications away, all wasted years now unmade 
into vague recollections, incongruity disappearing 
effortlessly, but you needed know what’s nub of it; 

the ashes blew you free of past where the events 
were indelibly sanctioned; there is now no legacy 
to taunt with presence, tho’ memory is in you and 
has a place, this pleasant vacancy extirpates the 
Sword of Damocles hanging; having had it over

your head no longer plays for a havoc’s unseen 
influence cloistered in the amphitheatre’s wings - 
an audience you had to have for credibility, yet it 
too is cleansed with the resurrected energies as 
rearranged elements of your unmade terrain; 

vacancy where items used to seem out of place 
doesn’t jar sense of what had been - but makes 
pleasant harmony of what will come; when you 
let the charm of seeing into possibilities less an 
artifice of presence - you’ll be there, assuredly 

© 30 November 2014, I. D. Carswell

15 December 2014


Reaction to the idea we’ll use our mobile phones 
to control TV suggests I’m not really ready yet; it 
feels more comfortable remote in hand, and that 
came out of a long frustration getting from those 
bad old manual days; hands acting independent 
of thought processes still phase me as I need to 
read instructions verbatim, so having my mobile 
replace TV remotes scares crap outta me - but  

I won’t pass on it just yet; I’ve tried it, n’ yeah it 
works okay - but differently, the learning curve 
suggesting new technology isn’t a breeze - but 
anything placing me in a dinosaur’s rest won’t 
be land decreed as a TV lounge - nor without 
TV remotes freely available at hand 

© 1 December 2014, I. D. Carswell