Category Archives: poetry

Fifty Years of Imagining

Fifty Years of fruitless

Imagining in song

And yet still we hope

Perhaps one day we will

Overcome our genetics

All the inbuilt self hatred

Expressed as hatred of others

Too late for you and I

But perhaps it will be

For our children to heal

Oh please, let it be.




Stone cold sober yet gin-sad
Reliving all those past glories
(remembering all the failures)
Testosterone fades, like the challenge

Gazing at the flat and level landscape
I now inhabit. Is it a plateau
above the clouds? Or a floodplain,
With features washed away?

To try, to try and succeed
To try, to try and then to fail
Success or failure doesn’t matter
What counted was the TRY!

An Atheist’s Prayer

Oh Great, Immortal and Non-existent God
Please protect me from your followers
For they disturb my broken sleep with odd
thoughts and fill the world with bellowers
Demanding I accept their null and senseless words.
Threatening me with an eternity of agony and pain
Because my refusal causes anger to believing herds.

I wish, Oh, Great Non-existence, you were real
And could control these loud disturbers of the peace
These hypocritical hypnotising Evangelists who feel
Their sermons contain the only and the whole release
From the evil habits they warn us against yet all practice
In private while publicly condemning me for saying ‘NO!’
Is their faith so weak my quiet opposition will suffice
To make their pack of lies appear to be just mumbo jumbo!


Archy Returns


archy the cockroach who was once a vers libre bard has been very quiet for some years but he has come out of hiding and attacked my keyboard once again.

I thought I heard mehitabel down below the other night.

I see he has not learned to use punctuation or capitals even though he now uses my computer keyboard and not Don Marquis’ typewriter.

Sadly, archy is still not a happy cockroach and he has bad news for us.

hey boss

i see you have not
australia is still
a disgusting mess
and now someone
is burning the trash

which will make the
digging up of stuff
easier and cheaper
and things can be
made easily worse

australia has not yet
tidied itself for
international presentation
and your office is still
the same mess it always was

your leader is as insane as
the leader of the usa
and i have been talking with
other cockroaches

they all say the same
your leader will be squashed
so a worse can take his place

even now he is planning his
immortal leadership with a
thousand year rule while you
laugh at him and call him a potato

i would not eat him
he is poisonous
and will not taste good
but you go out and
drink those bubbles

you enjoy and relax
with mehitabel say
wotthehell wotthehell
death and i will coquette
there s a dance in the old dame yet
toujours gai toujours gai

because it is now too late to
change the future which
is short for you two legs
and four legs
although we sixlegs will
survive and thrive

Eyes moisten with no reason

Eyes moisten with no reason
I lived a life
and failed to see it pass
leaving cold memories
of heated thighs
badly remembered
The clutching arms and lips
Always once more
desperately seeking
a purpose until
there wasn’t
and isn’t.
Tears falling with reason

JEMcL Jan 2020

I Am Earth

Gleaned from Twitter in Sept, 2017.


I can’t remember the day when I was born
I can’t recall the creation of that very first morn
I have been through a lot of changes since that day
And I have decided that I am here to stay

Life has abounded on me for millions of years
But now I am changing, it brings me to tears
My temperature is rising and so are the seas
My air is polluted and I struggle to breathe

Ice shelfs are melting, glaciers as well
Eventually it’s going to be hotter than hell
My symptoms are there for all to see
And my condition is caused by humanity

I would be fine if it wasn’t for man
And that’s what is so hard to understand
I can exist without you, but not you without me
So shouldn’t you be taking better care of me?

I am the planet, third out from the Sun
There is no other like me, not a single one
Live on me and look after me, show your worth
For I am your life stream, I Am Earth.

Komrade (@recneps51) on twitter

Thoughts of Clancy in Modern Days.

With apologies to Banjo who, I am sure, would be as horrified as I.


I had written him a letter which I had, for want of better
Knowledge, sent to where I met him down the Lachlan, years ago,
He was shearing when I knew him, so I sent the letter to him,
Just “on spec”, addressed as follows, “Clancy, of The Overflow”.

And an answer came directed in a writing unexpected,
(And I think the same was written with a thumb-nail dipped in tar)
Twas his shearing mate who wrote it, and verbatim I will quote it:
“Clancy’s gone to Queensland droving, and we don’t know where he are.”

In my wild erratic fancy visions come to me of Clancy
Gone a-droving “down the Cooper” where the Western drovers go;
As the stock are slowly stringing, Clancy rides behind them singing,
For the drover’s life has pleasures that the townsfolk never know.

And I somehow rather fancy that I’d like to change with Clancy,
Like to take a turn at droving where the seasons come and go,
But the Overflow has now dried and the cattle all have died!
The country now is less than super, since townsfolk stole the bloody Cooper.

And in place of lowing cattle, he hears the bosses prattle.
‘No shearing now or droving.’ He breathes the feotid air
Of Centrelink and hears the Clerk. ‘It’s you’re fault you’re out of work!’
And the counter staff with no heart say, “Now welcome to New Start!’

Drinking Dec-ade

Collecting ripened decs
Then squeezing their juice,
Adding honey to taste
Making cups of decade.

Yet decs are rare
And in my life I
Have found just eight.
Each greedily drunk.

I have found too late
Decades should be sipped,
Not gulped down whole
As I seem to have done.

JEMcL June 2019

Rage Rage Against the Lying of the Right

First written in 2014. Time for a re-visit.


After the Unlosable Election

Some Early Morning Chicken Sounds

I scawled this back in 2006. I think it is worthy of a re-run.


The early morning chicken sounds
Mix gently with my coffee grounds
So ears and tastebuds waken while
My face breaks open with a smile

I have survived another night
And now can glory in the sight
Of growing trees and flowing stream
Now knowing life is not a dream.

One day I know I will not wake
Yet from this life I know I’ll take
The early morning chicken sounds
Mixed gently with some coffee grounds.

Evening in the City

Something from the past.

City Sunset

After a clear blue day some whispery clouds had blown in
There was just a little sunset red left above the city skyline.
Tall buildings were beginning to show their night-time finery,

Replacing the waving eucalyptic green of the trees.
The busy road traffic was tiring and outside the frame
The river ripples, reflecting the evening’s new darkness.

Moonrise is hours away and the stars are too far.
An Earth-bound firmament will suffice
To show me my city for the next few hours.

JEMcL, Dec, 2006



Icebergs separating
From the primeval glacier mouth
Lonely, cold, trapped
By currents moving south.
Lifelessly, thoughtlessly, drifting.

We are bodily torn
Screaming into the pitiless silence
forever alone now.
Beginning a fruitless dance
To death from our mother’s womb.

Icebergs melting down
Releasing moisture to the world
Raining, slaking, mingling.
No current has us enfurled.
How and when will we melt?

J.E.McL jun1977

Arboreal Stripper

Sometimes it takes me a while to see what I have in the images I take.

Image from 2011, Words from just now.