20 October 2016

Five Degrees

Five degrees - a bit less than you’d expect for this 
part of Queensland, but then the sun’s risen - and 
calm settles as morning’s rays soothe a cloudless 
blue; are we in f’ another hottie - true you’d guess, 
and no breeze means no light relief unless there’s 
shade to hide in; wondered why it was so quiet - a 
compulsory lie-in mandates slower starts to a day 
you don’t want to see an indice of climate change 

Yes, we could do with a bit of rain - all the creeks 
are dry and the grass has had greener days - but 
that’s life isn’t it out here in th’ south east, stone’s 
throw away to th’ sea where either feast, or damn 
famine, rests on El Nino farts, or a La Nina whim, 
but we’ll manage - and trim the cloth accordingly 
© 26 May 2016, I. D. Carswell

19 October 2016

James Lucas Is Four

June’s the big month of birthdays isn’t it James 
wee mate, not just you turning four on Tuesday 
there’s a few of your rellies here & there ageing 
a year - altho you’ve yet to meet all of ‘em, they 
too’ll cheer for you on your celebration; up here 
at The Creek we wish you all the very best, and 
of course - many happy returns, lest we forget - 
which regrettably happens in reaching our age 

Okay, nevertheless we’ll get t’ say gidday - real 
soon we’ll be meeting you and the family; oh its 
a boy thing I nearly forgot - your Daddy & Uncle 
and me are off t’ Kiwi Land to see if its changed 
or whether its just those rellies I mentioned - I’ll 
be praying they’re like you & a delight t’ greet 
© 2 June 2016, I. D. Carswell 

18 October 2016

Georgia’s Sixth Birthday

We’ve summoned remembrances as we await your 
sixth birthday - there’s no denying living precedents 
of third thru fifth, all have engendered an appealing 
embrace of gentle ceremony; it is your day fĂȘted to 
be graced with a memorable occasion, altho’ every 
day of your life’s one such event - lest we forget, & 
we’ll keep in harmony thru’ rendering all shades be 
expressed in true hues of your selective choosing 

This morning will be a glory in dawning, it will draw 
reflection on Nature’s beauteous providence - you 
and your friends will gambol in rituals whose origin 
spans the age-old belief we’ve never left the Eden 
of our eternal youth; & let it be said that even we’ll 
convene to the hearth of its being to be with you 
© 21 May 2016, I. D. Carswell

Georgia Rose Struik turns 6 on 24 May 2016

17 October 2016

Islamic State

It isn’t a State as much a disposition cashed for 
aims to be achieved by any of its most extreme 
ideologies, with claims it bides strictly to dogma 
prefaced by The Prophet & made into the creed 
today as being seen facetiously too degenerate; 
so in whose views of sane moral sanctity do we 
propose debate with these degenerates who’ve 
grossly perpetrated IS crimes against humanity 

If in its truest relief ISIS is a one-way veil - then 
onus repeals itself - the thief of credibility is lack 
of international acknowledgements standing for 
accountability; Swiss bank credits cannot pay a 
tithe approving depraved crimes - & arms sales 
decline to prove who is the true believer; in the

Real World bodies in the field are its currency - 
that is until an Islamic decree the Islamic State 
isn’t a literal religious entity, and actively begin 
vigorous campaigns to completely erase it 
© 24 May 2016, I. D. Carswell 

16 October 2016

System Glitch

Oh, you’d love to say its all just happenstance, 
there’s nothing ominous in the conjunctions of 
this event’s randomly coincidental interfacing - 
or might that be too flaccid a reaction; tho you 
scrutinise th’ evidence, maybe suggest you’re 
fazed a wee bit - you’re not yet gonna believe 
assertions it is in your mind - i.e., the incipient 
effects of a surreal form of data-quota piracy 

So, get back to land my friend, internet speed 
determines how many bits of data’s received; 
no-one could use your connection to bleed off 
that much, your reception’s too slow for any a 
worthy thief to be bothered with - arcane as it 
seems, a glitch the system's to be blamed for 

And the system just does’t like you anymore 
© 19 May 2016, I. D. Carswell 

15 October 2016

Los Jaguares

Buenos Aires didn’t get the reward it deserved - it 
was evident in Marius van der Westhuizen’s style 
of irreverent rugby refereeing & Sharks rewarded 
disproportionately to their actual contribution; - or 
am I merely piqued by unabridged failures to see 
two teams afield - th’ Jaguares included, who got
wooden-spooned for misunderstanding Afrikaans 
I’d guess - but no problem there for the Sharks 

Tho’ I digress - on at least one occasion, after he 
failed to touch base with an assistant referee, we 
used to call them Linesmen back a ways, there’s 
this clear evidence of a tried scored by th’ Argies 
he decrees is irrelevant; didn’t see need for TMO 
assistance, though its often a can of worms 

On the day he squirmed without pride or dignity - 
played a dud hand to the team deserving the win 
by being intransigent - hey Marius, Los Jaguares 
applaud your inequity, and agree you’ll never get 
another game away if they have a say in who’s a 
sitter for the rubbish bin we’d all want you put in 
© 15 May 2016, I. D. Carswell

14 October 2016

Weeds We Can Agree

So we survived another morning’s comprehensive
inanity - altho’, in retrospect, it was less looniness 
than alternate views of unconsidered possibilities 

Ill-considered also has a space; there’re too many 
egocentric iterations of - been there, done that - to 
create tensionless rationalisation of what we see 

Agreeing what needs doing but not how opens an 
uneasy Pandora’s reasoning process, but lessons 
are progressing towards seeing things the same 

So you drive the beast and I’ll spray the weeds is 
an accomodation we seek, and can agree upon - 
and that is the way we redress today’s impasse 

At the end there is graceful redefinition of whose 
plan made an event come to pass; cohering was 
easily winner while last place went to the weeds

Regardless of initial anxiety we can clasp hands 
gladly knowing what we achieved had been done 
together - & the weeds now know they’re at war 
© 13 May 2016, I. D. Carswell

13 October 2016

The Sixties

Watching a piece of ‘contemporary History on TV 
which happens to include those same places you 
grew up in is almost delusory; yes, th’ coastline’s 
the same as waves in your memory with features 
you surfed brooding on legendary beaches - was 
there anything you missed back then - and who’ll 
remember better when you try recalling whose or 
whether ideas were merely words describing that 
undeniable pleasure of simply being there to see 

It was an age ago - and you grew into another of 
contemporary machinations with the space to try 
something more than whatever was ‘dramatised’ 
a draft escapee - there’s just simple delight in its 
manifestation - & knowing we weren’t’ victims of 
tall tale’s related justification makes it our sanity 
© 19 May 2016, I. D. Carswell

12 October 2016

Today’s List

I’d actually done today’s list yesterday - a kind 
of compromise - and nothing dramatic anyway 
but you start off feeling caught in the middle of 
whatever had driven you back then - but this’s 
the newby isn’t it - so why do we keep hoeing 
th’ same row; isn’t really a redundant question 
if it’s not yet finished - and the obvious answer 
throws caution to the wind, if you’ve a mind to 

So we begin by examining the list - surely this 
isn’t the best option to pursue; look, we’d tried 
yesterdays audit & it rained anyway, why do it 
again, and th’ games changed an age from its 
beginnings when we didn’t know the plays; by 
this time tomorrow it’ll be that different again 

And what do you know, in next t’ no time we’ll 
have written the list for tomorrow … 
© 19 May 2016, I. D. Carswell 

11 October 2016


Hey, when you’re about t’ be inferentially subjected 
to indignities only a redneck comprehends then run 
for the sea; the rest of th’ World understands which 
is th’ safest space, and that place isn’t alongside or 
neck to neck with hillbilly drek; although requesting 
explicatory reasoning by his rubeness means there
will be an erudite piracy - for which he is renowned, 
but won’t go anywhere near actually clearing th’ air 

This jumped-up guise of a ‘joker’s farce’ surely asks 
too much of an irreverential kind of credibility lasting  
a whole Presidential term; but alas we are too naive 
to see the reason why he’s there - thus expressions
of hammy indignity equal embarrassments destined 
to be flushed in the face of everybody 
© 27 May 2016, I. D. Carswell

10 October 2016


I used to listen to Spencer Howson’s ‘Soapbox’
you know, emphatic phone-calls he’d play on an 
early-morning show inveighing about everything 
that may’ve won a quivering notion of notoriety - 
but it weighs my humour hearing similar tones & 
overstressed phonetics - ham-actors attempting 
to be convincing I guess; although occasionally 
the subjects really did stray away from politics 

The best ever, in my jaundiced opinion, was that 
one, well-rehearsed call, questioning the idea of 
Soapbox on ABC Radio - and citing examples of 
impassioned dialogue we’re expected to sit thru. 
Geeze, says the caller - we still have to listen to 
Spencer inimitably being Spencer to his guests 

Isn’t that enough! And we’d let it rest, except for 
the rash of calls this brilliant bit of soap invited - 
so Spencer rests in lap of luxury suggesting his 
audiences dubbed him King of Comedy, seeing 
humour has two faces, yet possess intelligence 
enough to know the difference in suds 
© 18 May 2016, I. D. Carswell 

09 October 2016

A Day In Heaven

Not often I get a day in Heaven, not since the last 
World Rugby Cup anyway but this May day’s one 
ripper Sunday; there were four games from Super 
Rugby to begin the trek and then a replay of Paris 
7’s Day one, no complaints there; - so we sat thru 
the residue of Round 12, caught up on who’s who 
and what’s what with overnight games recordings 
before lunch, about eight hours worth in effect - & 

Even made the grade with 7’s replay - & checked 
on th’ few other oval ball live-play stoushes within 
space before the 7’s final day live connect, & that 
was from 5:35 pm til 03:00 am - geeze, heavenly
by any expression; and if there’s a better vote for 
where you wanna be on Sunday - this’ll suit me 
© 15 May 2016, I. D. Carswell

08 October 2016

Grandma Got The Key

Frederick & Clementine made our day much more 
than great - they arrived yawning after a long drive 
but classically settled into a unique primal greeting 
routine without too much fuss - a few adjustments 
made to tune their reception-modus just worked in 
comfort zones a pair of over-65er’s could tolerate; 
not bad for a one year-old tyro with his sister’s aid 
shyly smiled from gorgeously brown eyes 

Didn’t take Freddo long to discover th’ biggest and 
best toy in the place was a ride-on lawnmower we 
placed where he couldn’t miss it; the trailer’d been 
cleaned & lined with mats if a ride was decreed th’ 
right idea and after some manoeuvring as t’ who’d  
be an acceptable driver, Grandma got the key … 
© 9 May 2016, I. D. Carswell

07 October 2016

Me ol' Mate

Me ol’ mate raised the stakes today - before 6 am 
he is outside grousing vociferously about ingrates 
who come around scratching in his patch; that it’s 
a brush-turkey matters not a wit, nor the fact its in 
league with feral birdlife who’ve made his job that 
much more complex - so he’s out there copiously 
peeing on any bushes & shrubs it’s scratched at - 
as if to say - do it again and that’s what you’ll get 

While I’d agree he’s showing his proprietary idea 
of who’s in charge there’s no-one to really give it 
the test it needs; around about here those who’d 
progress it a modicum as such, suggest he’ll run 
out well before th’ brush-turkey guesses he’s the 
express target of me ol’ mate’s liquid largesse 
© 11 May 2016, I. D. Carswell

06 October 2016

Erudite Games

The morning walk today placed me where my 
animal acquaintances rest easy; there I was - 
calling them my friends, okay mates - but in a 
way too caramba t’ be guessed otherwise I’m 
fitted into space - less of my making - by their 
unmistakeable gestures; Podge deserted me, 
ostensibly to follow an interesting scent but in 
reality to take the shortcut back to dog-base 

Then Her Grace, our magnificent grey mare of 
Royal lineage gave me th’ bum’s rush, trotting 
off to where she pretended there’re presences 
more fitting; well, that took the cake, rendered 
me an effigy of occasional manipulation, if - & 
when, she’d time to play such erudite games 
© 6 May 2016, I. D. Carswell

05 October 2016

Lantana Days

Though we’ve steered clear of that ungracious 
behaviour, an unstinting do-it-my-way still flays 
those hides tanned by rituals and presumption; 
so yeah, you can claim t’ be aware of baroque 
penchants, but in there is your whole sense of 
an unalloyed perspective; you can’t believe its 
already out-of-date, it was only yesterday, and 
the learning’s stayed impeccably apt since 

Well, playing the old tunes learned in harmony 
with bye-gone-days hasn’t saved it - or written 
much in the way of amendments - the rules’ve 
changed as has technical delivery mechanism, 
there’s only one way that works & mate, it isn’t 
the one you’re currently thinking appropriate

But don’t despair, we’ll make the spray system 
your best friend, be confident! - your intentions 
are laudable and th’ lantana quakes with those 
potent gestures you’ve been seriously making 
© 5 May 2016, I. D. Carswell