Burn it to ash
Reflect on my day
Smoke made of problems
Blow it away
Poem by Jayne Cobb
I'm Weeping For My Mother
Tuncester, September 1988
I'm weeping for my mother. For her sweet tears, falling as
For her delicate and perfumed breath,
That sighs over continents in a foul and dusty wind,
Loaded with death.
Oh mother, please forgive us, please don't die.
You seemed so vast and powerful;
We didn’t know we could hurt you,
Or that your fragile beauty could crack, and crumble away.
We tore the flesh from the bones of our mother,
We ripped away her forest hair, that covered her like a misty
And violently smothered her shimmering seas.
If you don't love your mother, you don't love yourself.
When you mutilate your mother, you mutilate yourself.
Without our mother, we will be nothing.
We will wither and blow away, like dry leaves and dust.
If you can't cry for your mother, who can you cry for?
I'm weeping, for my mother.
Peter, Hale-Bopp, and the Comet's Streaming Hair *
Nimbin 22 November 1999
Comet Hale-Bopp's peacock fan flares over the Nimbin Rocks,
She is burning like a roman candle,
Caught forever at the top of the skeleton tree,
In the grave yard of tree slaughter on the flank of the mountain,
In Peter's photographs that make make her forever his own,
Forever, she is deep inside his mind, as he first sighted her
And simultaneously she is sailing blindly onwards and away
In her sparkling path across our sky, and across her guiding
Sagittarius, Aquila, Altair, the Veil Nebula and Cygnus:
Pegasus, Cassiopea, Andromeda, Perseus;
On to Taurus, Gemini, Rigel, Sirius, Canis Major, Canopus and
The comet lady with the trailing veil of hair
Passes by us, a mere 85 million miles away,
Her hop, skip and a jump in cosmic time and space,
Her zigzag dance between the Milky Way,
The lustrous glow of the Scutum starcloud
And the wash of moonlight over the comet's fragile light.
Every 2,300 years, the comet we have had the temerity to name
Sidles across our territory,
Her enormous diffused out glowing envelope,
2.5 million kilometres of glittering dust
Spanning more cubic kilometres than our own huge Sun,
Her vast song of praise streaming backwards and outwards,
And behind her, her million kilometre comet tail
Marks her path across the glitter and blackness of the stellar
She spins, she spins, her frozen face pointed always to our
She gouts behind and all around, her riven frozen skin
Rent by the explosive escape of great gouts of boiling gas,
Her face is frozen, her heart is her super hot boiling gaseous
Her nucleus that leaps and leaps in the ferment and joy of Comet
Pulsing her savage and vigorous light,
Her message of breathtaking beauty so for away,
She is so bright, even our own eyes can see her dance of fire
across our sky
As the graceful comet, serene as a swan,
Sails off and away on her wandering track across the stars,
Catapulted onwards by the desires and repulsion of gravity,
Fierce Jupiter, dragging at her as she passes and passes,
Her hair always blown backwards and away,
Away from the hot neutrino breath of the passion of suns,
The hard radiation savage love of interstellar winds,
So that as she ballroom dances across our constellations,
Her face is always to her lover the fearsome Sun,
And as she recedes from us her face is fixed towards him,
Her corona stiffly streaming for ever outwards,
Comet Hale-Bopp, traveller of fire,
Fading and slipping away
To the vastness of space beyond our time.
(*Thanks to: Here comes Hale-Bopp in "Astronomy"
Vol 24 No 2 Comet Hale-Bopp in "Sky and Space" April
Where the Pelican Builds Her Nest
The horses were ready, the rails were down,
But the riders lingered still
One had a parting word to say,
And one had his pipe to fill.
Then they mounted, one with a granted prayer,
And one with a grief unguessed.
"We are going," they said, as they rode away
"Where the Pelican builds her nest!"
They had told us of pastures wide and green,
To be sought past the sunset's glow;
Of rifts in the ranges by opal lit;
And gold "neath the river's flow.
And thirst and hunger were banished words
When they spoke of that unknown West;
No drought they dreaded, no flood they feared,
Where the pelican builds her nest!
The creek at the ford was but fetlock deep
When we watched them crossing there;
The rains have replenished it thrice since then,
And thrice has the rock lain bare.
But the waters of Hope have flowed and fled,
And never from blue hill's breast
Come back - by the sun and the sands devoured
Where the pelican builds her nest!
Poetry by TezZ Sp@cE
watTS a Sp@cE cadeT___
being a gy psy @ heArth___ i like tA trAvel ar0und___
mE t0 the mOon___
g 0 e___
haS chArms to sOoThe a savAge breaST___
on A roll____
s0 vo0 dO0
whaT planET r U frUm _!_
submerged stomped distorted
squeezed___ revived !!!
must livE in the present___ launch yourself on every wavE___
find your eternity in each momenT___
waTer on mArs
a Sp@cE cadeT___
da flatTerer pipes theE devil danceS___
when hippies Rule
is They in Da theY saY___
you know you have lived
in the middle east too long enuff when...
paTience is the companion of wisdom...
a man climbs to the top of mount everest...
and gets close enough to talk to God...
what does a million years mean to you ???
the man then asks...
& what does a million bucks mean to you...
then he asks...
can I have Nothing ?!?
in a second...
I went to the '08 MardiGrass this year and it opened
my eyes. I needed to be there so badly to realize that I'm normal
and there are so many others like me who are being oppressed
and persecuted unjustly for weed! In particular i LOVED the
way people in Nimbin treated the police :) Anyway, I came up
with this thing:
Thoughts are as curlicues of smoke
Intangible and wispy
Trailing off into invisibility
The chase is on
I am pursuing a thought
That remains beyond my grasp
So suspended in wait state
I tinker with the machinery of thought
Till I break one
What was I doing?
Will the memory loop reconnect?
It no longer appears important.
assessments heavily weighted with substance,
intense in character
intense in expression
rise and fall
recycle the emotions
an oak defying the storm.
assessments foundering on uncertainties
on the river
an inept steersman
follows the promise
founded in hope
engaging obscure facts
at the borders of pedantry
avoiding the darkness
looking for the half full glass
a reed flattening in the wind.