Dincara's Lair

Paradise Contradiction

Welcome to Paradise Contradiction,

This collection of poetry stems fom my underground mining years in Kalgoorlie, being newly weds and a family to raise.

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. Calling Inspiration

The sky was ablaze out toward the west,
The darkness creeping slowly from the east.
Stars were appearing casually one by one,
Like pinholes pricked by an unseen beast.

Night sounds of a chaotic orchestra,
Music of insects and my idle machine.
Drifting off into thoughts and solace,
Hoping to see things as of yet unseen.

Trees stand in dark foreboding shadows,
Serving as memories of a time not gone long.
When powers were constantly standing over us;
Watching over our deeds both right and wrong.

The shadows lift every once in a while,
As the moon appears from behind a black cloud.
Shedding knowledge upon those unknowing:
Individuals standing out amongst a gathered crowd.

The trees lose their overbearing presence,
No longer are they ominous and frightening.
There is a new wave spreading amongst the people,
Both illuminating and quite enlightening.

One world in it’s sky, land, and sea;
Is a thought with emotion running through the deep.
Surely this is not an impossible undertaking,
When there’s nothing left to do but to sleep.
Originally written in the year of 1993


. Chess

Black is to start this game.
The player is to be Mr Hussein.
He moves his pawn into Kuwait,
Hoping that no one will litigate.

But someone has seen his push;
White player is to be Mr Bush.
His pawn forms an alliance with the Saudi's,
Thus using their runways for the coming sorties.

The game is slow but continues,
It's propaganda splashed all over the news.
Officials see the forthcoming wedge,
Black is mindlessly on edge.

Black's name is now mud;
He unleashes the inaccurate SKUD.
Whitels next move is simple and plain;
Swift and brutal with his jet plane.

Black's knight moves to the border,
Officials are crying out for some order.
White retaliates with much the same,
Playing out this deadly game.

When it all comes to the end,
Who is foe, and who is friend?
Players seem to know when it begins,
That in the end no one wins.
March 1991 A.J. Corkery


. I'm a Garden Too

Some say that there was the big bang,
Others say that by God it was created.
A subject discussed over the millenniums,
Even today it is hotly debated.

Matter was formed out of chaos,
Brilliant heavenly bodies appeared;
Galaxies systems, stars, and planets,
All of their dimensions being tiered.

In my lifetime I never thought I’d see,
What I've seen in the past few weeks;
Man still trying to destroy himself and others,
Yet peace obtaining some ultimate peaks.

Nothing is nothing can't be true,
For souls must surely exist.
When the body vehicle is all but ash,
The soul is home so religions insist.

I'm a part of an intricate garden;
And by and by I wonder why,
Is it so hell bent on self-destruction,
So determined to kill and to die?

Some wonder about the end of the world,
Fear stepping into our hearts everyday.
When it happens it will happen,
And we'll be looked after in God' s own way.



. Majestic Stillness

It billowed out from the east,
Dancing softly on the horizon.
Its splendour mirrored its beauty,
A sight to keep one's eye on.

In the majestic stillness it grew,
Succumbing the sky with balls of cotton.
The trees shivered with anticipation,
The quietude all, but now forgotten.

The sky cried out for the parched land,
Overwhelming-.sorrow turning creeks to rivers.
Great for the farmers, yet for others;
A bogged motorist looking, lonely as he quivers.

A weeping sky dries its eyes,
With bursts of gold from up high;
But something is dancing out on the horizon,
What it is, we find out in the nigh.



. Weeping Willow

Where? Of where are you,
My weeping willow tree?
Is this terrain too rough,
To support one as fragile as thee?
This place is good for others,
Who have the same as your needs.
They live on in harmony,
Throwing into the wind their seeds.
Like a carpet of green,
They spread out for miles,
Surrounding a water hole of rock,
A travellers view captivated for miles.
If only you could see it,
My weeping willow tree,
Your tears would dry up,
To feel so full and so free.