26 September 2016

Your Contretemps
















Maybe to be freed compartmentalisation 
becomes you; & that ability to wax lyrical 
less prejudice of acknowledged category 
sets th’ demand bar at scaleable heights, 
at least in your eyes, & pronouncements 
fly unilaterally; all while naked egos flare 
organically with blatant prescience, they 
are difficult to disguise as only musing 

It is distressing failing to see it your way - 
though fact is you’d annexed space that 
wasn’t your’s first place & taking it away 
diminishes whatever grace does remain; 
however, in the aftermath, that’s stained 
all who precipitate in your contretemps 
© 22 April, I. D. Carswell 

25 September 2016

Freed Of Reminders



And the question remains - what makes it a better 
choice; living cheek by jowl in the dewlap of those 
passions expressed as essential to being whom a 
trendsetter blessed as fashionable? Maybe, if you 
can find an untainted agreement freed th’ raucous 
controversy of contemporaneity; and yet we’d vex 
if we did unless we could see what we’re missing; 
not easy in an urbanity, the sigils are too potent a 

reminder we’re due on schedule somewhere else 
and there’s a tariff on status to pay as if for whom 
we need keep up these appearances-terms we’d 
agreed to maintain as necessary for a status quo, 
but if - and only if, it mattered more so than being 
freed of reminders we’d chosen to dwell within 
© 23 April 2016, I. D. Carswell

24 September 2016

World Of Today



There is no mistaking this, judging by a grey mist 
over the Creek we’re about to enter Winter again; 
it is as if an extra coverlet spectacularly disposed 
with inimitable confirmation colder air’s out there, 
see how dense it is mate - until the sun’s rays are 
aimed ‘n ranged exactly - then it lifts, evaporating 
invisibly in illimitable blue, with a World appearing
discrete & pure out of the concealing gloom again

Thankfully it is the same one we last saw at dusk - 
perhaps its own image reborn, just as unchanged 
in memory - and the day gradually begins; time is 
refreshed in a way that never ceases to amaze, it 
soothes away unease, grasps the senses gently - 
as if to say - welcome to your World of today 
© 21 April 2016, I. D. Carswell

23 September 2016

Obediently Ambivalent



While I know it wont win gratuitous applause I’ll 
say it again, The Courier Mail stinks like a peed 
-upon-braille testimony of its readers inanities 

The fact this collection of crud still sells as #1st 
newspaper in th’ State of Queensland amazes; 
apart from its condemning our crude duh-ness 

It rephrases ‘n reflects national events as if the 
rest of Australia’s a vague idea - praises all our 
sports teams activities regardless of relevance 

Expresses a spastic notion Queenslanders are 
not mugs - they know that a problem denied is 
a solution not being applied in an epic editorial 

Probably read by less than 1% of readership - 
as if we give a shit; but the claim is population 
growth decreased again because we’re not in 

The correct mode of promoting the State; well 
that may be - but out-of-state influxes suggest
we’d end up being Victorians - if we persisted, 

So maybe there is ironical comfort in that fact, 
and we can still claim to be ‘pure ’n true-blue’ 
Queenslanders mate without overt prejudice 

Th’ Mail projects like a brick-bat condemnation 
of our rural ancestry; & by th’ way - avoids any 
confrontation by being obediently ambivalent 
© 15 April 2016, I. D. Carswell

22 September 2016

Politics of Power



Not anti political, more antipathetic to the dreamers 
claiming to represent me, yet to meet one who ever 
came close; I see ‘em as estranged egoists in flesh 
of ‘a falsehood pretending it knows what it’s doing’ - 
bit like a fiction-writer contending he’s reporting the 
truth or better yet a humorist dispassionately telling 
it as it really is - or even th’ Journalist on a because 
mission believing in what he seeks us all to see 

Then there is Joel Deane - his book ‘Catch and Kill, 
The Politics of Power’ places the ‘truth’ where it fits 
all versions of political expediency; and better yet - 
lets us see as he did. If you’d want the inside story 
without its dramatic innuendo - or explicatory post- 
scripting all after the event - then here it is, amen! 
© 18 April 2016, I. D. Carswell

Catch And Kill: The Politics of Power

Book by Joel Deane 

First published University of Queensland Press (UPQ) 1 July, 2015

21 September 2016

NBN Megalopoly




The bewilderment hasn’t dissipated; altho it is less 
than in initial days, there is still a sense of unease, 
nothing’s been explained, well not technically and I 
contend that is the least owed, but to say who is at 
fault bends a key road dishonourably inequitable 

It would seem NBN answers to nobody - their focus 
is broadband satellite network management and its 
maintenance - scheme upgrading thereto takes lots 
of energy that customer relations would negate - so 
maybe it explains their quirky idiosyncrasies 

On the other hand our Provider makes every effort 
to keep the users loop well out of that NBN soup - 
not always successfully - yet we’ve felt they meant 
it as a compliment to whom we are; NBN’s claims 
to care prejudice wry views of equality as fairness 

So when our usage rate surged off the scale even 
when we weren’t satellite-connected to a network, 
we saw red; their glib explanation said servers off-
shore were unfortunately causing vagueness and 
phasing interruptions in last-user identity tracing 

Woe is me! But complaining raised the flag, so to 
speak, and things took a turn after a week of non 
-logon; now only proprietary usage seems logged 
if it explains anything - with rates inside allocation 
provided by this supposedly upgraded scheme 
© 17 April 2016, I. D. Carswell

20 September 2016

At Visit End



It’s hollow in the absence of their presence - an after 
-event diminution of rare hedonistic awareness - like 
a deflation of fondly remembered edifices shared, or 
dressed in cogency of restored memories - as if they 
were days of distinction we thought should remain in 
a dilated but benign state - well, there’s no escaping; 
the hiss and roar and clatter claims whatever sense 
is abased into obeisance as we ride the same train 

Always astounding how supreme your Family reigns, 
it bares whom you are; tho’ there’s no independence 
witnessing familial events, try it and see whose view 
colours the rainbow you all grew into; that’s the pale 
edge to reality, you didn’t miss ‘em until the day they 
weren’t there to complete the right spectrum again 
© 13 April 2016, I. D. Carswell

19 September 2016

Grandiloquence



Playing hard to get with fate didn’t rate a mention 
in this random iteration of the game; we’re ahead 
a league or more where rules specify a score’s in 
concert with degrees of metric measurement and 
cultural indices we’ve yet to see as relevant; as it 
equates to someone else’s idea of a real contest, 
we played laissez faire in case there is a deal we 
share a benefit in by crossing their notional line 

Well, there’s no point in imagining why that didn’t 
come to pass, and very little wonder why we ask
just whose playing field this space was - “That is 
the anomaly” we’re told by its quaint vocalisation 
of cliched rhetoric - “you’re the loose geese who 
intangibly see such grandiloquence, opaquely.” 
© 14 April 2016, I. D. Carswell

18 September 2016

Lien



So damn me if I say I am the proud owner of a new 
pair of pyjamas made in Bangladesh; it is 8 pm and 
I’ve been wearing ‘em since my life’s love got back 
from shopping. And this isn’t ingratitude, they’re as 
classy a pair of jamas you find anywhere exclusive, 
perhaps a mite long in the leg, but that’s explicable 
as my legs are short. So there we were - both able 
to disport a hint of gratitude without obligatory lien, 

Gladness either of us is able to appreciate, making 
it seem like a Hall of Pleasure - and then - I start to 
think on it; there is this expectation of a return trip - 
while all the paraphernalia we’ve already gathered 
meets immediate needs an invasion of fresh ideas 
has seeded Her Eminence’s opus equilibrium 

We’ll be unbalanced until she shops there again 
© 3 April 2016, I. D. Carswell

17 September 2016

Equilibration



Its a situation where the Peace we’d gotten used 
to disappeared into thin air; &, so here we are, in 
quandary of why Donald Trump images makes it 
even worse; how on Earth a megalomaniac such 
as he is has this egocentric and irksome power t’ 
cross boundaries or create them - even if they’re 
irrelevant to anyone but his rabid imagination, or 
is that the actual potential he infuses anyway 

But the queasiness doesn’t dissipate by channel 
changing, hiding on the Internet or arranging the 
schedule you’d long determined ignore before a 
holistic revelation its empty of relevance anyway; 
so, what was it giving magnification to, so-called 
alterations of a bygone status quo you’d never 

Seen as an equilibrium in the first place … 
© 6 April 2016, I. D. Carswell

11 September 2016

Green Ball Mandate



If it takes the view of a five-year-old to make inroads 
into a nonsense of unease tolerated we’re bathed in 
glory; & she says hiding under a bed, why brush my 
hair - oh, you won’t find the brush either; I don’t care 
if it looks messy - this is me as I am, where I’m most 
comfortable; swinging upside-down’s th’ best way to 
obtain perspectives you leave unacknowledged - or 
miscalculate as ordinariness in introverted versions 

There is luxury in her appraisal which stays rancour; 
you have to laugh, any brushing’ll be debilitated and 
within nine minutes she’s proved her case - then her 
leading disciple says ‘hey, gimme the pill’ - because 
it’s a serious contest of wills he’ll win if he can get a 
humourless bite on her green ball mandate 
© 7 April 2015, I. D. Carswell

10 September 2016

Rugby’d & Berry’d



I wouldn’t want to plagiarise what’s already been 
said about the vaguest refereeing out of an elite 

Alright, I’ll repeat it - Stuart Berry is of an elite set 
of South African referees whose refereeing failed 

the litmus test of relevance; this morning’s game 
was between the Lions and Crusaders; I’d guess 

the Crusaders would bless their luck in winning a 
close encounter - playing the ref & the opposition 

doesn’t make it an even contest, but Berry isn’t a 
arbiter with fairness of mindset; no, he’s too busy 

discouraging a game’s progress irrelevantly - and 
in adjudication he’s a frustrated bureaucrat at sea 

Rules are all he heeds, so sequencing &/or intent 
be damned - we’ll deal with what he saw last that 

biased his sense of justice - minor infractions can 
& will be tolerated - but only by the home team 

And there the opposition stands - playing against 
16, at least, unless linesmen see the irony … 
© 2 April 2016, I. D. Carswell


For the record: 
Super Rugby teams Crusaders & Golden Lions 
played in Johannesburg on 1 April 2016, with the 
Crusaders winning 43 - 37. Stuart Berry was the 
match referee. Perhaps April Fool’s date effected 
both referee performance & final score! 

09 September 2016

Somnolence



Falling asleep in front of TV doesn’t necessarily 
mean what you think - there is more’n one idea 
beautifully explaining why of this shuteye case - 
and, I might add - is an inkling how selection of 
those lounge chairs was duly inspired; but, yes, 
sleeping thru re-run’s comes easier in reclining 
soft-leather chairs with footstool, and th’ woolly 
drape in pink, no less, wrapped casually round 

But I am also bound to tell the whole truth, and 
that places it in a different perspective - we are 
undisputedly reflective of our age and activities 
we engage in; tho’ not necessarily in consort, a 
solo-performance stage-set has consequences 
later in ways of requiting checks & balances on 
just where and when we sleep; watching rugby 
at 2 am extracts its early evening’s vengeance 
© 15 March 2016, I. D. Carswell