Lifting the Veil The ocean glows Under this Maundy moon, Our sins may be washed away And return again too soon. The waves may wash our pain away, Then flows back to us so soon. The waters embrace the borders, Of this green, brown land, The waves can hold no longer, The damage we have made. Now what do I see? Damage and healing, Without and within, Become the same to me. Weaving, evading, Undone and unspun. I see nothing To intertwine with me, Looking not seeing Seeing not looking, The veil in your eyes comes down, Hide behind the veil, Wrap yourself in the veil. You hide behind the veil, I will not unravel, Or be unwound. You talk of cloth, I speak of soul, The veil in your eyes comes down, The light within me burns bright, My window to the world still shines. Time takes no prisoners, We must be lifting up the veil, Time mocks the winners, Rival’s flags will fade, The damage that is done For always will remain. Time is not awaiting, This is the time to be, Unbound but still abiding, Intense, with honour guiding, Then we will be released. In the end we will all be free. Unwrap the veil, Dance with the veil, We shall be revealed, Then we will be free.

Cyclone Turtle Moving secure in her safe harbour, Whirling down to the deep sea floor, Curling in ribbons, turtle in the ocean, Many messages in her motion, Among the sea grass fields, The laneways of the reef. Seasons, cyclones, moons, and tides, The elements earth, air, water fire, Her shell reflects the world about, A thickening in a shape is formed, Reflecting the rumbling thunder Of planes landing on the runway, The motorboat noise makes grooves The water becomes disturbed, not smooth. Unseen space creatures flying here Loved for half a million years, In ceramic saucers reflecting clouds Now silently look down. Look down and mourn the dying reef They have loved for half a million years. Half a million years, Now mournfully look down. It is shrinking, paler now Within the blue green glow, Space beings, they wonder how, We have let it all erode. The Reef tourists flying here Loved for only fifty years, In metal capsules, a noisy sound, Slightly drunk not looking down. They never notice the dying reef They have loved for fifty years. Look at the islands, at the sea, Do not see the dying reef, Never mournfully look down. The turtle dance is changing now, Alters the current’s flow, Her new shell pattern creating how The waters swirl and flow, The ocean mist is curling now, The breezes turn their flow, The turtle rhythms showed it how Now the Cyclone begins to grow.

Green Submarine I am diving down In my green submarine, The turtles come in their own, And skim by close to me, The reef it holds me, Coral towers and travel routes, Promises of endlessness, Of delight and hidden truth, They came in their canoes, They found all they could ever need, They love the land, the sea, Gives them all they could ever need. The dolphins patrol the reef, Keep us safe while swimming in the sea, They sing to us their songs, we Live in our green submarine. We exist on a borrowed future, The engines make a million screams, Disturb the sharks and turtles, Piercing countless years of dreams, A torment for whales and dolphins, When the barges dredge and scrape When the coal ships block their way, They are ambushed, with no escape. Perhaps we could be a tidal forest, A mangled grove of beings, Man, Woman, Peoplegrove, Whatever is swept our way we hold, Filter and cleanse, we can invoke, The moon draws away, we unroll Sediment with the tidal flow, Release to the sea grass below. We are nourished and purified, We hold together entangled, Yet each stretching up to the sun, Making its own way to be enlivened, We will, like nature, fall, To greedy men with guns and tanks, To their missiles or poison gas, Or just a pair of brutal hands, Woken restless from a doze, Wanting blood and flesh. We are rising now, In our green submarines, Each rising on their own, To make a sanctuary. The reef it holds all beings And keeps watch on their intention. In our green submarines, We offer our protection.

Sad Man in a Fishing Boat Sad man in a fishing boat Has spent the evening drinking. One day he will find his love, In the moonlight, he is thinking. And when he does he will drink no more, His friends have heard him say, Turns his head when he is told It happens round the other way. For many years he has played the songs, Now he is young no more. The starry sky shines like party lights When he steps on the dancing floor. The ocean it takes and holds you Like when you are being born. But takes your breath and life this time, Sad man’s heavy heart sinks down. Quiet boy stands on the tide line, Where the water left its mark, The sand will hold his feet firm, His mother whispers in the dark. Mother waiting in the sand dunes, From the desert not the sea, Brings the wailing to the songs, The boy dives down into the deep. The singing takes him through the ocean, The songs will calm the waves, The desert voices lift the body, Quiet boy finds sad man’s grave. In the evening he brings white flowers, Burns money he will never spend, Places lychees next to a picture, Burns a candle to its end. Quiet man lives his time pearl diving, Finding hidden treasure lying deep, Looking for the answers He never heard his father speak. His mother crosses the river, Returns to the desert ranges, Between the ghosts and the living, A border reef, from timeless ages. Quiet man on the pearling boat, Dives with instinct, fast and deep, Finds what he is not looking for, A call of help, from far beneath. The turtles swim by fast then slow, There are changes in their rhythm, Diving down they twist and turn, The current changes with them. The moon reflects in shiny pearl, Shows that their home is crumbling now. The oyster reefs, the coral reefs, Are dying back, they’re breaking down. People come for their own gain, Take this moonglow in the sea, Want this peace, this calm to change Their lives of greed and misery. Quiet Man sleeps on the galley bench, The pearlers they are laughing, Sharing pictures of their girls, Mainly they are just bragging. Quiet Man wakens from his rest, Music drumming in his veins, Remembers diving near the reef, Sounds of motorboats and planes. Time to change, to move, to go, On the table top, his fingers drum, Lighten your load to travel far, Not knowing, but the way will come, From stepping stone, to grass, to sand, To diving deep into the ocean. The drum beats as his breath is held, The blood is moving, now he listens. To surface as the rhythms merge, The tempo changes, colours form, Water, Air, Fire and Earth, With these patterns, he will walk. In his mind the beats, the pulsing, Ocean, grass, stone and sand. Taking him with their singing, The mothers of these desert lands. Summer winds guide through the heat, Follow the path of drumming pulse, Takes him to the Barrier Reef, To the ocean moon, the solstice. Sleeping soundly on the beach. Familiar rhythms, he is awakening, Ukuleles strum, and the siren’s call, Toward the chai soup kitchen. One looks down and another looks up, Both brighten up his day, Quiet one opens the door of her truck, Looking ahead, they drive away. Sea grass moves the waves around, In swirls of greenly blue. East or West the grass it grows, The same sun is shining too. The coral beds are bleaching here, More than they have in Broome, Still oceans are warming everywhere, Currents are changing too. Quiet one drives into the hills, Stops the truck and walks away, Drumbeats clear, the echoes fade The other says I’m glad you came. This small path he has followed, The murmurs in the waves, The humming of the desert, The drumming of his veins. With the name his ancestors gave him, They sailed to the archipelago, To travel with open intention, Is all he ever needs to know. Sisters sang for him to join them, Like two halves of a pearl shell, Different but closely matching, Snapped tight and held him well. The warrior pulses echo. In the sister’s blood and mind, Catch or kill, they argue, In the space they leave behind. He smells the stench of evil, Knows they have followed too, From the mill towns and the coalfields, Where evil thrived and ruled. From trade routes and the silk roads, The greed stretched across the world, Children boiling silk cocoons, Others freeze in satanic mills. The slaves born in the cotton fields, Slaves in the dark coal mines, Trapped and bound in sailing boats, Evil is as old as time. This profit can buy beauty, Mansions and tropical isles, Grace to blend the gene pool, Gentle manners they will find. Then comes the time they’re banished, From the mind that’s wanting the best, From those who will always find blemish, Wherever they have come to rest. It is nothing to squash like an insect, Those who they once strived to take, They don’t see the quiet ones so silent, Stalking the transgressions they make. The drumming beats like thunder, In three hearts, in their blood, For the murder and the plunder Of nature and of lives undone. Quietly they wait their turn in The cycle of planets that reign, For justice creates momentum, Repercussion for offences so grave. Quiet ones in the sailing boat, Have spent the night pursuing, Three minds alert and watchful now, The moon light guides, they close in. Sad bargains sold to the future, Create hope that will never come, Yet a reckoning, for that reason, Makes change that is never undone. Dive deep to find the pearl shell, Or sink in a watery grave, Rise quietly with your treasure Don’t drown in a burial cave. The reckoning is the reason, Light of the truth guides you on. Respond and never be beaten, Hearts beat together as one. The reckoning is the reason, Hearts beat together as one.

Zeitgeist Crimes How are you doing with the siren of the deep? Does she whisper sweetness, does she turn her songs to shrieks? Seeing just a mirage, an image of yourself, A reminder of what is missing, hidden from your life. It seems that she is waiting on the boat, the fence, the street, Really it is your shadow, aching to be revealed. If it is a mystery and hidden from your view, How can you ask another to be that way too? And so she gets it wrong, in spite of all her trying, She comes to you a train wreck, with eyes a black hole skyline, Looks as if she should be gone, nothing new to find. You have come to think you are master, of the spirit, of the times, And have a zeitgeist swagger, you smile when they tremble, Because you make the rules, then you bend and break them. Then will come ten wounded ones, to meet you in the night, Ten candles you will see, though you may rub your eyes, Will creep into the quietness, then they pierce your mind, The silence breaks your ear drums, no one can hear your cries. Swing for the Zeitgeist crime, In the dark no one will swagger, Songs for the Zeitgeist crime, Ten sirens with their candles. Sing for the Zeitgeist crime,

Cable’s Love Song It is in our nature to be vulnerable, But not reveal ourself, to wear a mask, It is our instinct to be malleable To disguise our feeling when others ask So then, we want someone to share our secrets. Can I offer you this task? It is from passion we are born, And to passion we return, Let us hope that we can find it In a gentle sunlit room, Either way it will find us, Sometimes in our life, Let us pray for passion’s kindness, In this dark world filled with strife. You touch my skin, It is still ruling, After all my thoughts and words, Who am I fooling? I feel the water still and cool In my spine and mind and hands, My eyes they see much clearer, My feet lifting from the sand. My face and lips flush freely Lychee flesh grows warm, I hold my breath, I close my eyes, Then greet the depths beyond. I want to kiss your strawberry hills, Forever, and whenever you say. To tangle myself in your forest of hair, To laugh and to lead you astray. In my dreams your whispers comfort me As I gaze into your lake eyes deep. I can see myself in their reflection, My mask dissolves whenever you speak And when the sunlight has lifted, The shadows of this new dawn I will wander your path and follow The patterns your footsteps draw, Be a pilgrim of your laughter, That like an artist I create, My hand brushes on your shoulder, You turn, with the colours that I paint. I see you trace my purple veins, Blow raspberries onto my skin. I laugh at this livid day, While the storm rolls in. Now, the world becomes much clearer, Light and kindness, but darkness worse, Harm that lurks, an ever present stranger, Cold and hard, becomes a frozen curse. I see sometimes, the depths have come to claim you, I stand alone and have no wish to change you, You bide your time, merging with the flow, With this love, I wish to melt your sorrow, Warm your skin, be another to embrace, The heaven surrounds, the stars are held in place, With the magnet tide, we will turn to face the ocean, We fall like waves, rising with the motion, Swept along like a dervish in the dance, This envied truth, now all is left to chance, The dark, the light, then tumble with the tide, Greet this world, with nothing left to hide.

Ten Thousand Days There are no longer winners, The prophets need carry no weapons, For these last 10,000 days, While beauty is still being born, What can be saved in this lonely pioneer path, We all travel together now? I will scream with this bursting heart, Filled with breathless love and grief For what will disappear, Do we want leaders who decide what is of no value? Who wear a Hawaii hula shirtfront smile While Gwondana’s core is sinking? Those who believe that they have the answers As to who justifies their own existence. Those who look into their own thoughts and see the mind of God, Those who think that the “Mad fucking witches should stick to their knitting” Those leaders who ask ”Why are they still shrieking? Don’t they know they are dead to me?” Dead witches on an island in the Pacific With the rising ocean lapping at their door. It will not worry them now, Now there are maidens Whose children speak in runes, Young bodies running for the future apocalypse. To the leaders who live out fantasies, Your excuses do not concern them now, You will not worry them now, They will be the wise ones now, These prophets of the next 10,000 days.