Independence

After forty years of the
militaristic regime’s occupation
the foreign soldiers banished
the invaders back to their
island home on 15 August 1945
releasing Korea from slavery.

This slave population had been
used in the enslavement of the
densely populated eastern
coast of the continent
across the sea.

Over seven decades
three racially akin
countries toiled to
recover from years
of occupying and
occupation.

Young Koreans commemorate
that August day then go on
package holiday tours
to the island home of their
previous warring invader.

Each Wednesday lunchtime
former girl sex slaves now
in the winter of their lives
circle in front of a lone
Seoul embassy reminding
their erstwhile conquerors
of their brutal enforcement
into premature tortured
adulthood.


Previously posted October 2016.

Korean Kindergarten Bus

Excited three and four year
olds wait with mothers or
grannies or aunties at gateways
to apartment complexes and
apartment block front doors as
Mr Lee drives the bus around
local suburbs to pick them up
for their classes at the English
kindergarten. Mrs Park and
the other children greet each
child as they step on to the bus.

They are excited to have American
names for kindergarten, names
like Jodie, Henry, Jessica, Gavin,
which their parents chose from
principal Mrs Kim’s book of
American names – so grown up !

Their uniform Academy school bags
hold their jackets, their spoons
and chopsticks for hot school lunch,
and little trays with compartments
for soup, rice, pickles, fish or meat.

Mr Lee stops to pick up
Mrs Jenny walking from the bank
to school – they greet her too.

School at last and they all
scramble off the bus to meet
Mr David and Mrs Carol
at the front door.


Previously posted October 2016.

Korean Kindergarten Lunch

We line up with our lunch trays
for Mrs Park and Mrs Kim
to serve our lunch.
the youngest go first and
sometimes we have to wait
because Henry plays instead
of washing his hands.

Ooooh !! Look at Henry’s lunch !
Octopus !! It doesn’t taste of anything !!
And it takes do long to chew.
I hope Mr David tips mine in the bin
back in our classroom when we are eating.
Last week he tipped my yucky
seaweed rice globs in the bin.
Yay !! Only seaweed in the soup today.

Crumbed cutlets cut in strips !
with honey mustard sauce !!
Even Mrs Jenny eats that.
Mrs Park gives her lots.
And yellow pickled radish ! Mmmm !

Mrs Jenny is still learning how
to use metal chopticks.
On her firsst day here
Mrs Kim turned her chopsticks
round the right way
in her hand.

Foreigners are very strange.


Previously posted October 2016.

Dog’s Old Age

In the garden Nana talks
with the man who will mow
her lawns, trim the edges.
Brownie is happy to see
them in the garden. She picks
up her old brown ball in her
teeth, runs across the grass,
drops the ball at their feet,
looks up hopefully, expectantly.
They smile, say “Hi Brownie”.
But they don’t play with her.

The visitor fetches his mower.
Nana goes inside and lies on
the couch as she has often
done over the past year while
her family talk about her
heart, doctors, hospitals,
operations, rest.

Brownie has come home after
a month at her doggy day care
place, with her mutt friend Whitey
with the black ear, five cats,
two turtles, twelve budgerigars.
Now other people take her on
her morning walks. Nana rests.
Brownie rests on her bed nearby.

At twelve years old Brownie’s
arthritis is held at bay by
pills, diet dog food, long walks,
but rarely by playing with Nana.


Previously posted October 2016.

Healthy Living

On healthy food
healthy interests
sound learning in
school and university
she raised her children.

In their adulthood
she cycled, swam,
nurtured the environment,
labouring in her garden
growing many vegetables
and abundant fruit.

She fed them to her
grandchildren. She
painted, made play dough
models with them, took
them walking with her dog
around the leafy park.

Retiring from her long time
profession she reached
out to a fuller life in
home, family, environment.

Now her energy drained
as her heart imploded
weakness by weakness as
successive genes failed.

Full of medications now
her mind and body rest
often on her bed.


Previously posted October 2016.

From The Past

Four narrow strips of oak
frame two greeting cards
behind ivory card edging
and their mantling glass.

In lightly brushed water colours
seven geese pad along a
leafy lane on orange feet
with orange beaks held high.
Beside it gentle strokes
portray a goose with paddle
toes pointing inward.

This much loved montage on
my living room wall recalls
my soul mate friend who sent
these cards, her laughter at my
love of these stubborn birds.
He handwritten messages inside
them told of her daily life,
of dear family and friends, work
and community in the days of
handmade communications
twenty years ago.

She is long gone, vanquished
by an illness science can not
defeat but her inner self is
memorialised by two framed
framed messages from the past.


Previously posted October 2016.

Silly Geese

Across the country road
the geese stepped out
from one verge
to another.

Not to scare them I
drove slowly, then stopped
as they stood before me,
staring, their paddle feet
squarely on the road.

Their drover looked at me,
at them, then rolled his
eyes to the sky. Looking
up the road then down,
he waved me on around
his feathered goosey charges.

As I continued down the
road my rear vision mirror
showed that flock of geese
waddling into their new field.

They showed me why
we call a foolish one
a “silly goose”.


Previously posted September 2016.

Tupperware Party

A modest suburban living room
greets women young and middle
aged as they gather to shop
in comfort for sturdy plastic
containers sold on the party plan.
After a hard day’s work earning
a living, caring for children, they’ve
farewelled those children, the husbands
and grandparents all babysitting
for the evening. Now they relax on
sofa, armchairs and floor as they
view smartly designed containers
in the latest shapes and colours
artistically stacked on coffee
tables, occasional tables. In the
corner china, cutlery, cover
the dining table ready for the
supper set out in the kitchen.

Their interest is held by the sales
woman’s samples and brochures,
recipes and anecdotes; their questions
answered promptly, eloquently.
More foods and dishes are discussed
by working women who work for
most of the day wherever they are.

Finally supper, savouries, cakes,
coffee, and tea as they question
the saleswoman, fill in order forms.
A comfortable evening, a meeting
of minds who spend their days
working for others but tonight
nurtured themselves while they
shopped for their families.


Previously posted September 2016.

Busy Roads

In my paid employment
days I drove my vehicle
rapidly round town from
home to workplace to
supermarket to mall
to bank to vet with snuffly
rats then home again.

As I rushed around town
limited to roads – which other
cars used too ! – in front of
me these incidental nuisance
called pedestrians crossed
the road in front of me,
halting me by law ! When
I had so much to do !

As a pedestrian retiree
living simply on my pension
I walk to our shops,
walk around town when
disembarked from the bus.
Handy pedestrian crossings
aren’t always where I need
to cross the busy roads.

I wait for cars to let
me cross but often wait
in vain. So I step out
briskly through handy
gaps to cross the road.
Cars whizz past me at
supermarket entrances as
I sidestep along the kerb.

On our roads I am
disenfranchised
without a car.


Previously posted September 2016.