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june

Thanks so much for dropping by the blog. Be sure to grab a cuppa tea (or coffee or water) and read. My blogger manifesto is HERE.

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Alphabet Father and Son

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(c) June Perkins

Alphabet father and son
pram wheels in late afternoon breeze
symbols of something
the poet thinks
‘perhaps they’re keys
– transfigured new age men.’

Robed in garments: peace and love
beaming virtues of transforming light
into actions of might
– guiding generations on their way.

(c) June Perkins

This poem may develop further or into series. There is so much discussion of domestic violence at the moment and what may stop it. I think of heroes like Rosie Batty who are bringing it into the spotlight of the media with their tireless work.

Sometimes I see signs of change – little seeds where there is no violence, only love. There’s a place for fathers, husbands, brothers, mothers, sisters, and children, to move beyond old habits and embrace a world that will be free from violence.

Sometimes it begins with the simplest transfigurations.

This poem first appeared on my Ripple Poetry Site. I am still experimenting with its final composition.

Visit my Ripple Poetry posting of it and let me know which version you prefer? Alphabet Father and Son: Ripple Poetry Site.

Underpass Art

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Cultural Centre underpass – June Perkins

One of the things I love about cities is discovering the art in the underpasses and on the railway stop walls.  Some of these art works are commissioned creations; others are layers put over already existing art and blank walls by underground artists.

During the lead up to hosting the G20, the city concerned about how the world might see us, made an effort to add to and raise the quality of the underpass creations; while headlines proclaimed the blandness of much of the existing street art.

I still have to make it to some of that new art created, but for now I am noticing street art whenever I pass by it with my trusty camera phone.

Street Art doesn’t always last for long so I could make this a long term photography project and visit some of these spots again in three years or so and see if they have been painted over with new designs.

I definitely better make it to the Merivale Street Creations – for a follow up post; these ones are probably going to last about eight years and they look stunning in all the online documentary photos I have seen of them.

Perhaps in this journey I may meet some of the people who create these works or even happen upon the creation of one in progress; that’d be brilliant and something I’d love to film, although I think I’d be going for the legal projects for all sorts of reasons.

For more see The Pillars Project. 

(c) June Perkins

Hidden Brisbane: Chainsaw Sculptures

When you look up
you will see
attached to the trunk
a giant gecko.

When you look around
carved in a tree stump
a kangaroo;
hours of chainsaw artistry
not to take a tree down
but to adorn or transform it
to art about nature;
to make you want to connect
with the creatures
that live there;
leave the world of your phone
as you walk
with nature converse.

Now look
there’s a real possum hiding there
bounding out when you notice it
saying, ‘remember you saw me
you don’t need to take
a photo of me with your phone.’

Thankyou Matty G
for your clever artistry;
Thankyou Far North Queensland
for making me always want to look up
down and out…

2/05/2015

(c) June Perkins

Research reveals that the two chainsaw sculptures above are done by  Matthew George, a Queensland creative chainsaw artist.

You can find out more about the reasoning behind the project here  Chainsaw Art at QUT’s Kelvin Grove. 

The main idea of the sculptures is to connect the viewer (most likely a student) back with nature, and to encourage them to look up, and at the ground, rather than stick to their mobile phone.

They certaintly captured my eye.  After seeing two I knew there should be more and my curiousity was lit and I went off on a web search.

I love making discoveries of real animals, but these art ones were also intriguing.  Some even looked freshly done.

The other day when I was looking around QUT, I noticed a real live possum!  It was staring at people wandering past, and was a gingery colour.

So far I have just found two chainsaw sculptures, but there are a few more hanging around the campus.

For even more information see Matty G Inc.

(c) June Perkins

First published as Hidden Brisbane: Chainsaw Sculptures at Ripple Poetry

Searching for Poems

pearlz:

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(For more images visit the original post at Ripple Poetry)

Originally posted on Ripple Poetry:

Even when I am not writing
I am.

Seeing things like statues
in the park
makes me wonder
why they were put there.

A statue of  perhaps local Indigenous people
a family
at the water
is a tribute to first peoples
making them ever present.

Does it mourn the massacres
or celebrate their survival?

I need to find out more.

I like to stop
to photograph tiny details
like grasses of different
textures and maybe later
I will ask my friends who
know plants well – ‘What’s this one called?

I love the wildlife so close
everywhere in Brisbane city.
Someone was thoughtful at town planning
and valued keeping small pockets
of land for lakes
and ponds especially for the birds.

The swamp hens and the ibis are so close.

Sometimes one could
almost forget the traffic surrounds
and mini sky scrapers
going up and up.

Brisbane what is your…

View original 28 more words

‘Universal Soldier’

Yesterday evening I sang Buffy Saint Marie’s ‘Universal Soldier’ and that about sums up how I feel about war…

Today Australia remembers the Anzacs and many other soldiers still out in the field.

Here is Buffy talking about what inspired this song, followed by her singing it.

Here is a poem of my own about loss.

‘Blue Bonnets’

Funerals like rain
Fall from clouds
Young boys say ‘goodbye’
As father’s lowered to the ground

Mother stands alone
Tears become her shroud
Funeral goers utter not a sound.

She hears blue guitar strums
She’s pounding melancholy’s drums.

Texas and Tully are so far apart
Yet they share skies
Where hawks and heron fly

Storms and troubles rock both their shores
Warn their people to depart.

She tells her children
the legend of the Texas Blue Bonnet flower

A young girl gave up her warrior doll,
The last reminder of family,
To invoke a higher power.

She burnt her warrior doll
Its head dress of blue feathers
Offered up its ashes
To the North, South, East and West Winds
So hunger and loss it would tether.

She cried herself to sleep.
Let her memory weep.

When she awoke
Never before seen flowers,
Clambered the mountains
Birds made their bowers
People drank from hope’s fountains.

The mother with the shroud
Inside’s the little girl
Who’ll burn her own warrior doll
She knows what must be done

She’ll let her dreams unfurl.
She’ll wait till all sleep then
Pull out her favourite guitar
Take those blue cords
Burn them, banish them

Scatter their ashes,
North, South, East and West.

The dry season will begin
Floods have had their fun
A looking- to-the-future flower
will now begin to grow.

By June Perkins