The Art Of The Possible.

As he lay on that couch
Dying in 1883 what did
Richard Wagner see?
His Germany transformed
Into some mythical golden age
Or the scourge of the Jews
And ensuing Nazi rage?
Someone once defined
Politics as the art of the possible
If so, then you shouldn't leave it
To aesthetes for they will
Likely propose the improbable
Given time and enough public money
They will create worlds of beauty
Impractical, violent and free

©shaun patrick green 2014

The Spectacle of Silence.

"Operation Sovereign Borders"

It has a fascist ring about it

Public interest not of concern

A military solution
To a human problem
That sounds like an intervention
And once it's military
We, the public, are on a need to know basis
And, frankly, we don't need to know
Except that this is Australia 2014
Not South Africa 1974
(comparisons have been made)

So human rights go out the window
Like keeping children in prison
Torturing and detaining ligitimate
Asylum seekers in offshore prisons
You out there voted for these cretins

Heeding their call to arms

"Australia is being invaded!"

It has been for forty thousand years

And the locals have learned to accept

Waves of invaders as traders

But not this lot because the immenent threat
Is the most visible
Make it invisible and it goes away
Yet the stigma stays
The stain upon our national character
That we don't treat these people
Like the human beings they are
We are too busy

Digging into the guts of this terra nullius

Scraping out whatever we can find

Wealth beyond imagining

Tie that into terrorism

And anything becomes illegal

Even broadening your mind

© shaun patrick green 2013

If You Fall.

It is a simple matter of trust

If you fall I will pick you up

I have arms and legs that work

They are there at your every turn

If you feel weak and can't go on

I can carry you further along

We made a vow to be together

No matter how bad the weather

So whether in snow, wind or frost

If you fall I will pick you up

© shaun patrick green 2013

Dinner Party.

An over-seasoned evening drags

Its dead legs toward midnight

As conversation among strangers

Dies an even slower death

Kebabs burned on the Webber

Long since politely picked over

Salads fester in decorative bowls

While dessert remnants attract ants

Beer and wine empties rack up

In a kitchen corner as if asking

For something hard and heavy

To be thrown their way

Faces stunned by awkward silences

Search for something to say

With stars pensive overhead

Like the eyes of a bored audience

Please God let something happen

Maybe the BBQ could explode

And send the jock on the balcony

Screaming down in flames

To the unforgiving carpark below

Or perhaps the high maintenance

Trophy wife could choke

On a chicken bone

Ending her vacuous life with

Ever smaller gasps for air

While the ambulance crew

Drive in circles in search

Of this sepulchral address

No, I think the host, having devised

This tortuous event should provide

The guests with suitable entertainment

He should disappear for a moment

Then emerge in a maroon dressing gown

Which he dramatically whips open

Announces his desire to be a woman

And with a carving knife severs his penis

In front of all and sundry

Then, at least, we can leave

Slightly drunk and bemused

While he bleeds out

No doubt, we will still feel hungry

© shaun patrick green 2013

Frost on the Leaves

The valley crackles

Ice under foot

White sheets over limbs

We sit awed

Didn't see it coming

A frost like this

There will be foxes

Testing our succulent hens

Keeps the other half busy

Washing and warming stuff

Better that way

No need to talk

She will look out of windows

I will retire to the shed

Both looking to a life frozen

No winter thaw our bed

© shaun patrick green 2013

Kings Canyon.

We scaled Kings Canyon at dawn

Following European tourists in thongs

Saw ripple marks set in stone

Traces of the Devonian Ocean

Thrust up through continental drift

To form rocky outcrops

For photo opportunities

Before our first anniversary

You lay in a bed fouled by tubes

One breast less than my wife

As if life had turned into a shark

And taken a chunk out of your chest

Another scar on the earth

Revealing its violent struggle to be

© shaun patrick green 2013

Turning Back The Boats (or The Tyranny Of Distance Is That We Are Never Far Enough Away From Stupid Ideas).

Invasions break like waves on history's beach

Inspired by greed or misplaced good intentions

Bringing with them God, alcohol and syphilis

New forms of war, old social conventions

Australia was Terra Incognita until Europe

Flung its unwanted shit against these shores

Only after white men landed in tricorn hats

Did it become Terra Nullius under foreign laws

If only the Enlightenment experiment

Had extended to criminalising hypocrisy

Then politicians would have been transported

To the colonies - an act of true democracy

And if only the indigenous peoples of this land

Spoke Latin and possessed a vast navy

Then the First Fleet would have been turned around

And Indonesia would be eating roast beef with gravy

© shaun patrick green 2013