| Performance at Pearl Beach Community Hall 28.08.2009 |
|
1 We came by boat, in the dark There were seals on the rocks and in the water Other creatures Never before sighted by the eyes of man
Gently we progressed through the night Gently through the nights and the still waters And everywhere about us darkness and looming headlands
What sort of place was this, what sort of place?
Had there been fires we would have known there were other people We might have assumed, yes, the existence of other souls But there were no fires, no hearths, no places of comfort or of welcome Someone in the lead boat fired a shot It did not reverberate There was no echo, no echoing call shot Or sudden screech from a night bird hid in the mangroves or flying low over the water
There was no echo, no answering call
We came by boat We came by boat across the still dark waters We came by boats across the still dark waters and there was no one
2
Across the room they passed/google eyes Acorss the rom they passed google eyes and still my plate was broken, my precious thing
Careless, carelesss people and still those google eys
How shall we say a thing We were waiting for a heartbeat, a tender moment
Something
Not, no, the ghosts of the dead Not, no, the amplified sounds of decay Or any kind of wretchedness Yet something, something tender considered affable even Yes, something bordering on affability
In front of us the stonje wall crumbled, the concrete wall came down And even though the years were many the wall existed There were no lichens upon that rock or that concrete Nothing had grown, not a thing
How odd, we thought, that nothing will grow in conditions of blockage, separation, stone-walling
The heart is a gravel pit in which nothing prospers
You may for the moment cut the sigh with a knife 3
Tango time, mango time Rhythms that bewitch and catch ya Snatch ya Up up and in, in in
Juice runs down your lips Tongues way
The gossip of the day is avid Runs down your chin Plays fancy dancer with the timpani of fork and spoon Cutlery al fresco
Cheers!
Rattle your timbers, rattle your bones
Old Brahms at the keyboard hears the rattler twitching down the track at the back at the back Looks out across his kitchen sink Across a panoply of red geraniums To the peaks the peaks the peaks That lift his spirits and yet deflate
Tango, mango, what drongo wrote this rubbish anyhow
Mango, tango, who knows the final rhyme Who sets it, who sets it, me or you Yes, celery sticks at dawn Bravo!
No, sorry, hold on a moment, my mobile just rang
Join the chorus, join the chorus, join the chorus It’s either them or us, so join the chorus
© john von sturmer thurs 6 aug 2009
|
