Friday, 15 March 2019

The iQ4 Creed

Although functioning again th’ stress it impressed 
upon me remains cogently real; it is like saying an 
iQ4 remote has more reign over your destiny than 
you can beguile against - if so inclined, or be that 
distressed as to try and find a ‘help’ number - but 
fail when tenor of suggestions seem less caring if 
you’ve opened the handbook to page 15. Well we 
found a small print number bottom of The Tree of 

Verity suggesting it might be of eventual use, and 
printed it - then tried the remote again; believe th’ 
‘holy mackerel’ effect or not, a bluetooth connect 
effected itself and th' Smart TV was iQ4-corralled 
back into th’ land o’ hand-held remote - & sanity, 
and the unsullied help-number for Foxtel is freed 
© 15 March 2019, I. D. Carswell 

Wednesday, 13 March 2019

When You’re Two

When you’re (nearly) two, going on (at least,) five 
& your name is Finn Gerrit Andrew Struik, there’s 
feasts o’ space for being discretely fey - thus his 
shrewd & erudite ‘astuteness’ isn’t too surprising, 
altho’ saying he believes he is but a baby, fails to
rationally surmise the suave way he engineers all 
events so subtlety you agree with and play along 
th’ same seminal path as his erstwhile eminence 

But he’s a great mate who knows th’ proper way 
blokes relate to each other; it’s like saying, this’s 
how things get done - give us th’ room, come in 
when we ring th’ changes right for you t’ see its 
okay to join in; for me it’s like a holiday because 
m’ wee pal kens exactly how t’ be a best buddy 
© 13 March 2019, I. D. Carswell

Thursday, 7 March 2019

They’re Back Again!

Well, they’re back again! Th’ megapodiidae, or 
alectura lathami; brush turkeys in other words, 
we cannot feign being pleased - they’re ruddy 
pests who’re utterly impervious t’ suggestions 
they really aint welcome - geeze, there’s gotta 
be limits t’ how many times one has t’ tell ‘em, 
go away - you’ve 10,000 acres at your beck n’ 
call on the other side of that garden fence you 

deem The Gateway to Heaven. We’re pleased 
t’ inform you that digging up our gardens isn’t 
your natural role & we are not here t’ feed you 
grain - all we get in return’s a few terse grunts 
suggesting they’re going to complain a whole 
lot louder if we don’t restrain our belligerence 

Their attitude suggests we’re the cause of our 
own demise - altho’ we try to keep eco-sense 
alive and active, its not ‘their reference-frame’ 
and th’ game fails to have any commonsense 
they agree too; maybe we will have t’ arrange 
th’ re-institution of a ‘guard-dog’ impediment 
© 7 March 2019, I. D. Carswell 

Saturday, 2 March 2019


We’ve had a classic guest these last few days, 
she’s been expressing her feline-fantastic zest 
for elaborate exaggeration in play, amazing th’ 
staid audience into ardently awaiting her next, 
breath-baited, melodramatic performance; we 
hadn’t had t’ wait too long before she decided 
we were okay, & leapt into bed - purring that it 
was intended t’ make us feel better than ‘old’ 

And it worked without perfidy - there is rarely 
a more cognisant ploy than ‘paying the piper’ 
in th’ same currency: & thus, we’re dedicated 
fans of our boarder Snow; while she is due to 
leave in a day, we’ll cogently retain memories 
of her amazingly adroit capacity to ‘entertain’ 
© 26 September 2018, I. D. Carswell 

Thursday, 28 February 2019

Unpayable Expense

What does the future hold, will I be blessed with 
more of the same - or less of a sanctioned piety 
those denizens of a schenectady dream into the 
scheme of antediluvian being; we live in th’ new 
age of enlightenment expressed wherever rising 
suns ascend unhindered into th’ space freed by 
an ubiquity of seeing both sides equally; well, it 
used to be that way, or am I still the same naive 

mercifully gallant soul defending the rights, and 
freedoms, of th' downtrodden, dispossessed, & 
demonised innocents; it is th’ Teacher in me - a 
wholeness of what’d be our unanimity, if not for 
estranged instances o’ depravity where we’ll be 
accounted-renditions of an unpayable expense 
© 28 February 2019, I. D. Carswell

Wednesday, 27 February 2019

Freed Such Poverty

We’re getting there again - almost November and our 
Jacarandas are beginning to bloom; there’s already a 
swoon of lilac tinge under the first tree, she’s an early 
denizen - while th’ rest winge, hum and haw a bit but 
evidence suggests they’ll attune to Guy Fawkes Day 

It is a sign blessing th’ Seasonal Sway; we’ve moved 
from jeopardy onto the highway to where we’ll cruise 
comfortably ’til Christmas - bathing in the Lilac tones 
under our trees, debating how we can live without th’ 
pleasure of being groomed in such comely opulence 

How could one forget th’ carpet of purple shades we 
need to remember those good old days, and without 
which we’d grieve forever for events in a past tense - 
there’s the promise again, as rich in sumptuousness  
as the guarantees we’re freed forever such poverty 

© 30 October 2018, I. D. Carswell 

Tuesday, 26 February 2019

The Reign Of Relief

One of those macerated-days, & where fractious 
‘ministrations’ of nether-conceived weather biles 
hostility - yet in a sense, springs relief; tho we’ve 
needed it, prayed for it to come, pleaded for this 
treasure’s release upon our current ‘desiccation’, 
(we’d all but forgot what springing-green means) 
it’s then that it rains; what arrives seems to ‘end’ 
all th’ agonies, but it’s storm-cells form flooding 

Y’d guess optimistically, merely overnight angst 
for the few in wrong places but its assessments 
suggest many crops fell foul - thus the seasonal 
yields won’t fare well & shortfalls will fail to quell 
on-going debt from previous years. Then there’s 
a belief this is merely The Beginning of The End 

Even the Weather Bureau adds to the irony; their 
Southern Ocean’s temperature profile gives that 
eerie postulation its credence; but, we’ll survive, 
and make our way home to The Power Blackout 
we can’t possibly live without - 8 hours of it too; 
and now what d’ you do in an imposed vacuum, 

Given th’ continuous wet weather cower piously 
© 16 October 2018, I. D. Carswell