Nice to see you.

I'm not one of these conservative writers who learnt their trade at university.
Most of my work is gritty and raw and comes from experience.
I could tell you some stories! Then again, it's better if you check out the work.

My best work is yet to be published. Holding out for the traditional path. Foolish?

2014 Pushcart Prize nominee. (more)

Not enough attention to Men

The Hidden Epidemic

It's Mental Health Week and yet there's not a lot of media coverage, particularly in the mainstream. (ABC2 has had some good programming). There's a hidden epidemic, that of suicide, particularly amongst males. Despite much more awareness today, with help at hand, people and the media in particular, barely use the word at all. When I was working in News, it was policy not to report suicide stories. Is this right? Should we be sweeping it under the carpet?

There are approximately 2000 men who commit suicide in Australia every year (2,292 in 2015). With a population as small as ours, its a shocking figure. It's bad for women too, approximately 700. (Overall in 2015 - 8.3 suicides per day). There is a lot of public awareness now regarding the rights of women, domestic violence, breast cancer etc. This is a great thing, yet there's very little said about men at all. Prostrate cancer kills more men than breast cancer does women. Yet there's limited media coverage about it. One in three women suffer domestic violence in their relationships. A terrible statistic and its great to see commercials targeting this issue, and politicians talking about it. Yet, one in every second man is a victim of male instigated violence. One in three is also a victim of domestic violence. There is nothing said about it. (Excluding school yard scraps, I've been assaulted twice as an adult for next to no reason, one put me in hospital for a week).

I feel sorry for young men today. They don't know what they're supposed to be. They certainly know what they're not supposed to be, but there's nothing that says, it's okay to be a man, to be masculine, to express your feelings etc. There's so much man bashing going on in the populous media and social media that even men are joining in simply to be accepted. It's political correctness with half a face.
It's not okay to hate on any race, religion, women, gay, lesbian etc, though its perfectly acceptable to bag males, particularly Caucasian ones. I don't disagree with any campaigns regarding anyone's rights but let's play fair and include everyone. Let's look after all victims of violence. Let's address all sufferers of cancer and disease. Let's not let young boys grow up feeling excluded from society. It's said that 75% of callers to LifeLine are women, yet its the men who are killing themselves. This strongly suggests that men are not reaching out, not talking about their problems, because men are supposed to 'cop it on the chin' and 'get over it.'

"... few preventive efforts or policies specifically targeting male suicide have been developed or evaluated, which further contri­butes to its lack of visibility as a major public health problem."     This is a very good article from a medical journal. Sadly it's five years old, which means nothing has changed.

I'll say it again. Depression and anxiety does not discriminate. Yet men are often demonised for simply being men. They're caught between a rock and a hard place, having to take on gender guilt for the sake of a few bad apples. A lot of change needs to happen in our society. We need to stop referring to the races and sexes and peoples sexual choices as individual areas of concern, and start thinking about the well being of human beings in their entirety, from children to the elderly. This casual discrimination and ignorance must end.


In closing, I wanted to mention that the artistic world lost a great talent on Sunday the 9th of October, ironically during Mental Health Week, the death of 26 year old Fergus Miller from Melbourne. He had depression. He committed suicide. He was the creator of the band Bored Nothing, among other things. What a tragedy.

This is an excerpt from the Triple J website:

On the eve of 2013, Bored Nothing scored a Next Crop acknowledgementfrom triple j and in August 2014, released a second album, Some Songs, (the first in 2012), which we featured for AusMusicMonth that year. 

Richard Kingsmill spoke to Fergus at the time, after he'd finished touring Europe, playing 26 shows in six weeks, discussing his influences and songwriting process.

"When I started writing music I was writing it was a lot more with rhythm than with melody and it took me quite a few years to get over that. I think once I really grew an appreciation for that kind of stuff I went back to my roots and listened to a lot of The Beatles, Velvet Underground & Nico, stuff like that." 

During his career, Fergus toured with internationals like Best Coast, Beach House and JEFF The Brotherhood as well as many locals that he struck up close friendships with, including John Steel Singers, Bleeding Knees Cluband Step-Panther.

RIP Young Man.   13 11 14

One of my best friends committed suicide when he was only 21. 
I'm sure you know someone who has committed suicide too. 
Let's start talking. And let's start caring. 

I don’t want

Want or do not

I don’t want anyone to see
I don’t want anyone to hear
Sometimes I don’t want anyone
Sometimes I need so profoundly
It pains me to admit.

I feel somehow swindled
Without observing all the steps
Of the deception

The embarrassment is mine to own
One of several possessions
I’d rather wished they’d taken.

...and um, yeah, maybe i looked like that at 23, so no... not me...

My Haunting

My ambiguity is my soul mate. My unclasped handshake wrapped around a free for all, anything goes cacophony of feeling in chaos, ordered in its randomness. It is unbridled and undisciplined. It is never quiet. It never leaves me. At least it’s consistent.

It writhes out of its translucent malleable shell in quieter moments, as if to prevent the peace I seek. It slithers a trail of oily tears in a complex pattern that fascinates and annoys. I should be doing more. I should be doing less. This is not what I ordered. I’m in the wrong place.

It bursts from its shell in an explosive panic ridden rage in times of stress. It bites me from behind my eyes. It yearns for me to direct its frustration at those who frustrate me (or is it simply exploiting me?) It is both powerful and pathetic, as no matter how I (it) yearns for violent escape, it suffers and seethes incommunicado.

I continue to conjure solutions, yet as I age, and my familiarity with this nameless foe intensifies, I sense the futility of combatance. It is more than detection. I’ve long grown accustomed to battle fatigue. Perhaps the peak has been crossed and it’s too shrouded in mist (or dusk) to see the down slope. Is this the way of things? How it goes for me? And for all the other me’s before? A laying down of arms. A handing over. A joining of forces. This is the union. For better. For worse. Good night. 

"You need chaos in your soul to give birth to a dancing star." 
~ Friedrich Nietzsche

Clouds of Tomorrow

Something a little different this week. And different than most of the Video Poems I make.
I wouldn't call it a video poem. Simply footage of clouds and nature as filmed by myself edited to obscure indie music.

The original version of this was 15 minutes. This is much more palatable. Hope you find it calming.

I made this around 2013 so alas I cannot remember the tracks or artists.
However I'm certain most of them came from this site:

I paid for the songs, I know that.
If you work it out, please let me know and I'll credit the artists.

An IN-sane New Game from the makers of Pokeman Go! Crazy!!!

Pokeman Go 2!

PokeYourMum Bro!

Follow your mum around and when she's not expecting it, Poke her!

Never too young to play!   Kid's got style!

The More Pokes the More Points!

Bonus Points if you avoid a whack across the head or
be pelted by her flying shoe.

Super Bonus if You Poke her in her sleep
or in the Shower!

Rheeek!! Rheeek!! Rheeek!!

Pokeman Pundits

'Pokeman so cute! Me so horny.' - Kim Jong-Un

Had a Good Score going until this...

I lost my legs but I got a Pikachu!

Pokemon Loser walks into water - 29secs

                                                       'Pokeman GO Blows.' - Ban Ki-moon

Coming soon  - PokeYourSelf Yo!

War? What War? Leave us alone. We've got a game to play.



'Pokeman GO a no-no yo.' - Santa

'Hey can we re-program Pokeman to lead the Mexicans into the ocean? 
Save me building that freaking wall.' - Donald Trump

'If only terrorists were a bit more selective.'  - Obama

'We can dope Pokeman Players. No one will ever know.'  - Putin.


Acerbic Sorcerer

Judgement is swift and brutal
As only the judgmental can deliver
Severing any alternatives
Denying possible rebuttals.

Forked tongues
Do not present
Forks in the road
A mere singularity
Allows concise
And forgone conclusions.

Manipulate results
Until satisfaction reached
Complexities concreted
And cracks consigned
To deepest shadows
Where truth cannot exist
If unseen.

Vacancies in terrorism. WE WANT YOU!

How to be a Muslim terrorist

Preferably born in a Muslim country but not necessary.

Preferably born in a country other than that in which the terrorist act takes place, but not necessary.

You must be religiously fanatical, to the point where you would never have a progressive thought of your own. 
Free thinking is forbidden.

You must have a low IQ.

For those who don’t know what IQ is, you might well be suitable. (ie  you are stupid. Don't worry. This is good).

Must be prepared to die for the cause. Like suicide bombers, you are too dumb for a leadership role and are therefore easily sacrificial.

You must have a small penis. Men with small penises have much more to prove (Hitler, Osama etc) and are often high achievers

Height wise, a great bro to have around. wink-wink

Preferably you must also be small in size (see previous point).

You must not question orders. (see previous points).

You must be inspired by another act (see previous points).

You must have very poor luck with the ladies and preferably a virgin. (Men who score with the babes have more to live for).

Low IQ candidates or in this case, below basement level.

You must feel rejected by society. (You can’t make your way in life because… well... see the low IQ point).

If required, you must be prepared to travel to a war zone to fight.

If in a war zone, you must feel comfortable with rape. (See previous points about picking up women).

If you cannot rise to the occasion in a rape scenario, you may have sex with men. (It’s okay to be the fucker, as long as you are not the fuckee).

In the sand-dunes, no one can hear you scream.

If you rise to the occasion, and don’t even have the decency to give your brother a ‘helping hand’ you may have sex with a goat. Other animals are acceptable. A man is not a desert, but in the desert, it can be hard to find a goat that isn’t already partnered.

Going back one point. Loyalty is expected. You must satisfy your brother if he wishes it. Many Jihadist brothers jerk one another to relieve tension. A tense soldier is a bad soldier. Besides, jerking is fun!

You must aim for maximum impact. No, not in your brother’s bum. We mean with the body count. Therefore you must pick a soft target. We don’t want heroes here. No He-Men. Target unarmed civilians, including old people, women and innocent kiddies. We only want someone with no morals or respect or courage. Some may say you are a gutless pussy. That a blind, deaf, limbless child has more courage than you. This is good. Cowards are good for our business. We want gutless, spineless, wimpy, chicken liver, wuss-bags who would run snivelling into their mamma's fecal-y nappies than have a one to one fist fight.

Prime example of a gutless, spineless pussy. Notice lack of beard. 

War can be boring. Men play games to relieve boredom. Here’s a tip. Grow a beard. Fresh faced soldiers risk bukkake. Do you know how hard it is to remove cum from a beard? Exactly. We’ve all been there but a man with a full brotherhood beard is really saying, I do not like bukkake but I may swallow. Grow one. Stay clean. And enjoy the protein.

Lack of beard. Bukkake King, Hypocrite & Dumbass.

Do you relish the idea of a paradise where all the things you can’t get here will be available, even if it's complete fantasy?  (kinda like heaven except with group sex)

Fantasise about revenge? 

Fantasise about being a martyr? 

Are you a stupid, small, tiny dick loser who can’t get laid but likes to fuck animals? 

Then you’re a prime candidate for becoming a terrorist! 

Congratulations! WE WANT YOU!

Mentality required


(no, not bukkake)

In the desert, love can be found anywhere. 

One hump or two?

It's going to be hard


You dream
A more fulfilling future.

You can visualise it
Enough to smooth out
Its rough edges.

There’s just that awkward first step
And the many non-perfect ones
To follow.

Holiday sensations

Languid Lisbon

A night breeze of moderation
To replenish exertion
Lost to the day
A welcoming spirit to the air
Bringing a smile to the shopkeepers
A spring in the steps
Of the spruikers
And friends in transit
A mild rekindling
To old flames
And a need in the children
To have their voices heard
As they dominate the winding
Cobbled streets
With impromptu soccer.

Aromas too mixed to quantify
Enough to send vegetarians indoors
The rev of motorbikes
Floating bluish residue
The occasional motorist frustrated
Most noticeably tolerant
And laughter more prosperous
Moods perhaps tempered
By the summer like
Early autumn evening.

Seemingly, for the most part
That’s all it takes.

Written in Lisbon in September, 2014
My photos

Help us keep you retarded

Service Announcement Saviours 

Your standard Sydney train experience 

Customers, please allow other passengers to disembark from the train before entering. Thank you.

Customers, please keep back from the yellow line when trains are approaching. Thank you.

Customers please watch out for trips, slips and falls. Help us keep you safe.

Customers, please keep your bags off the seats.
Thank you.

Customers, if you are feeling unwell, do not risk it. Get off at the next station. Staff will be there to assist you.

Customers, please keep your shoes off the seats.
Thank you.

Please do not sit on or obstruct the stairways.

The train on this platform is now due to depart. Please stand clear.

Customers on Platform __. The next train will not be stopping on this platform. Please stand clear.

Customers please stand back from opening doors.

If you notice a suspicious package, please do not touch it. Report it to station staff.

Passengers, for safety, please take extreme care. Surfaces may be slippery when wet.

Customers, please do not keep the doors open with your hands. Help us keep you safe.

Customers, you do not have to use your brain while on this train. Help us keep you retarded.
Thank you.

(George Orwell continues to roll in his grave, clutching his splitting sides).

Got a pet Nanny State Hate?

Memory as desire - A place as friend

This poem is from a submission I made in 2012 that required it be set in a real place, hence the description at the bottom. It was rejected, (along with hundreds of other poems to various publications that I've submitted to over the years), but that doesn't mean it isn't worthwhile. 
I hope you like it.

The Veins of a friend and a friend in vain


Dark river waters
I cannot see my reflection
Brown earth liquid flows
Yet I know
Even at this young age
That I’ll always be with you
Even if after today
I never see you again
Slow perpetual wonderings
Leaving me behind.


The river bank imbued
With the corpses
Of trees
Reaching out
Clinging to the water
In memory
Perpetually changing
Forever dying
Bringing life.


I return
My past is lost here
It’s already too late
I’ve grown older
So far removed
From how it used to be
And what is to come?
It used to be easy
But now I’m frozen.

Location: Campbell’s Bend, Victoria.

I grew up in Murchison, which is situated on the banks of the Goulburn. I spent many summers swimming in this particular location and in fact, I learnt to swim there. As a teenager, I got drunk there, took drugs there and had sex there. My first published book, Bottomless River is set there. 
I have not been back for many years. I’m almost too frightened to, in case I don’t recognise it anymore. The physicality of a river changes as much as people. However I do hope that families and other youngsters are having as much fun now as I once did.

Paddlesteamer at work - 1878 - slightly before my time

More Poetry.