BACK IN OUR CHAINS 
! 
shorter working week 
we were going to have
a future perfect
a past tense
a present ever more stressful
ulcerous growth in hours on the job
welcome to other kinds of downsizing instead
technology
that was meant to free us
is bringing the work world
into our home life
back in our convict chains
lap dog in workplace
lap top-bound weekends 
a car and phone
an upwardly mobile office 
on gridlocked roads
what rage will fuse
our short attention next?
rush to meet a deadline
life in the fast lane
down another dead end
when living to toil
overtakes working to live 

UNGROUNDED 

synthetic-soled shoes
and thick paving
block the flow
of Earth energies 
to our feet
and nervous system
soul force thrives
beneath us
where life on Earth began
bacteria
in warm moist darkness
down where our roots lay
easy to forget 
looking up
to a God
in the sky
so we thrust 
earthly materials 
higher, box upon box
pumped with conditioned air
while out in the concrete canyons
we make it still more foul
cleaner may be the ground
sealed in, like our feet 
as may be the rest of our frame 
one day when we're even less 
nurtured by nature

BEING SEEN

world's first personalised stamp
declares the Aussie Post billboard
the me generation is becoming 
the me too generation
you've got your personalised number plate
but now you can further circulate your mug shot
just as you do with your scanner
on to the Web
and with your bizzo card -
one for each of your occupations
you wear a name tag most weekends
on your self-development workshops
and your sporting teams
you watch from your corporate box
now have their names on their shirts 
and your designer kiddies -
metres of their life so far on video tape
you look forward to when, chatting on your phone,
you'll be able to be seen on a little screen
but you're already being watched, every day
more and more hidden cameras
and the items on your shopping bills
these bear your name tag too
in who knows what data banks
a dietary history of your animal accessories
electronically tagged, it's now compulsory -
will their owners be next?

GLOWING GOLD AND SILVER

two golden shiny circles
piercing the night
lit up by a silver shiny circle
to help me see the black, furry shape
perched on a fence
who are you waiting for?
the fount of light withdraws
behind heavy clouds
so dark now you have no face
and bear no body
my only sight is your yellow eyes
that see much more 
than can be seen by me 
object of your gaze
oh creature of the nightworld
that we retreat from
before the glow
of the cathode-ray tube
what you could teach me of your realm!
is that what you're doing now?
with your steady stare?

FOOTPRINTS ON THE SAND 

the cold wind pushes me along
wasn't so when walking the other way
glasses fogged by salty mist
firm passage underfoot
for the tide was at its ebb
but since I changed direction
the flow has swept away my footprints
as time has done to many a memory 
I have to retreat to the soft sand now
forcing my thoughts to slow down
and helping me to realise 
with everything around me I am at one
even with my presence washed away
even on a grey, bleak day 
whose elements will retire
to a dim place in a mind 
that will disappear too 

TO GAZE BEYOND THE CONSTRUCTED 

to you it may be just a stretch
of cast iron and meshed wire
unsightly and decrepit
long overdue to be torn down 
to make way for
something more up-to-date
but for me it holds a presence
a lost part of me 
I feel is within it
to behold it is to be
beckoned to a world 
and a state I once knew
traces of which become
clearer and stronger felt
hinting at the untapped 
of which I then was more aware 
renewing me with hope and vision
fast these traces fade away
as current preoccupations
shatter this wonderful sense
what a sight I must be
gazing endlessly
at someone's old fence
am I being taken
for a burglar?
or a lunatic?
or someone with weird taste?
but there's much besides beauty in
the eye of the beholder.