Blog

It was early in the morning and it spoke very quiet.
book, change, health, Humour, Life lessons, poetry, politics, prohibition, writing

FREE BOOK for 420 Poetry to End Prohibition 420 Edition

Do you want a free book to read?
To celebrate 420 day.
I am giving away FREE my 3rd poetry book in the “Love and Lust in Nimbin” series for you
for the next 4 days and 20 hours.
A massive saving of $14:20

Since I was 19 years old I’ve been passionate about ending prohibition of drugs. This book is the result of three years of living in Nimbin where the effects of the drug was and prohibition are obvious and shoved in your face daily.

Poetry to End Prohibition The voice of the tawny frogmouth 420 2020 edition
Poetry to End Prohibition Nimbin Mardi Grass 2017
These effects caused by the systemic violence of the antiquated policy of drug prohibition include state violence, violence in the streets and massive amounts of self abuse and denial because of “fear of truth” and lack of harm reduction policy and programs.
So, if you want a free book to read on one of the most important health policy changes that can be implemented this year in 2020 then you need to read this and send a copy to every politician that you know because it is FREE and we need to make a change.
To celebrate 420 day.
I am giving away FREE my 3rd poetry book in the “Love and Lust in Nimbin” series for you
POETRY TO END PROHIBITION 420 EDITION
for the next 4 days and 20 hours.
A massive saving of $14:20

Poetry to End Prohibition: The voice of the tawny frogmouth (Love and Lust in Nimbin Book 3)

 

tawny_frogmouth_james_arthur_warren

book, Life lessons, poetry, writing

Free “Love in Nimbin Ed 2” ebook

Love in Nimbin Edition 2 Book Launch

To celebrate the release of  “Love in Nimbin Edition 2” I am giving it away for FREE as an ebook for 5 days from 13th of March 2020 to the 17th of March 2020.

Just Click this link to get your FREE ebook copy of Love in Nimbin Edition 2

https://read.amazon.com.au/kp/card?asin=B085RMHLRH&preview=inline&linkCode=kpe&ref_=cm_sw_r_kb_dp_VfHAEb933YN5Q

 

Life lessons, politics, writing

One Friday Afternoon

It started on a Friday in a land not far away and the idea spread like wildfire and they began anew that day.
He stood up in a market place and read out his idea
“Lets Unify the Whole Planet and make all borders disappear”
“Let’s eliminate all scarcity and ensure a more than a basic wage”
“Let’s have a single Global Currency for Living, commerce and trade”
“Let’s eliminate all Nations, Passports, Visas, Border Walls”
“Let’s close all the armies, navies, airforces too and have no weapons at all”
And as he planted seeds his crowd it grew and grew
until the Whole World was listening not just one or two
He said, Everyone can have free energy, renewable and then we all will thrive
“When we end all governments will be a great day to be alive”
“Do no harm and nurture all and simplify all laws”
“Support and love all people and lift up all the poor”
Have a governance of things based on compassion and doing no harm
Then all people can live in love without fear, in security, without alarm”
Let’s make all food organic, all medicine for free,
free public transport, free schools and homes and life will be easy
“All people just want love, security, happiness and compassion
To create a life of love where all can thrive and live in passion
One Friday afternoon the man stood up and said
He told them his Ideas and world wide they spread

Life lessons, poetry, politics, prohibition, writing

The voices of the dead

Nimbin Cemetery, Australia, 8am Sunday 19 May 2019

I went to visit the dead today

At the cemetery and listen to what they had to say

“We are the dead and the victims of laws

And injustice the ones that died from your wars

People keep dying please change this condition

Of your injustice system called drug prohibition

 

There were mothers and fathers and young people we grieve

He died from FLACA at 23, one New Years Eve

Writhing and screaming he was overheating

Boom Boom Boom of the Doof then his heart just stopped beating

 

A whole family but the baby died in a smash

Of an alcoholic driver who had a car crash

The beaten and murdered children and wives

When pissed dad arrived home who feared for their lives

Let’s not forget those who died from cancer

Who couldn’t access cannabis as a life enhancer

Prohibition of drugs is social abuse

Locking up people for recreational use

Did you hear about how young Jake Monaghan died?

ODed from the drugs his mother supplied

 

Prohibition of drugs is an outdated law

That criminalises the socially vulnerable, sick, black and poor

Police become dealers and deal drugs

To justify their jobs and do deals with thugs

Selling black market heroine, cocaine and ice

To keep prisons full and meet KPI’s

 

Racially profiling the coloured and poor

Died in the lock up, crushed behind a cell door

As I sit here I am looking down at the ground

Where I performed CPR on a young man who drowned

Choked on his vomit we tried but he died

I met his mum dad and siblings and we all cried

 

Today I went to honour the dead

At Nimbin Cemetery and this is what I said

Dead spirits I’d love it if you would help me

Harm Minimise, End Prohibition and make Cannabis Free

If I was a teacher I would give you a fail

For your punitive justice system and the way that you jail

The sick, poor and black recreational users

When it is clear to all that the system abuses

 

Drug prohibition doesn’t stop demand for drugs

Just puts it in the hands of criminals and thugs

The cost of prohibition is millions each year

To imprison the harmless and put people in fear

Harm minimisation is good for your health

Sharing and caring and rehabilitate yourself

 

I went to the cemetery and listened to the dead

End Prohibitions their spirits all said

 

tawny_frogmouth_james_arthur_warren

animals, Life lessons, poetry, poetry, prohibition, writing

The Tawny Frogmouth on Prohibition

The following poetry was written by James Arthur Warren AKA Thundercloud in memory of Daniel Walmsley, victim of prohibition. Early one morning, the day before the Nimbin Mardi Grass cannabis law reform protestival  I walked outside in the dark as the first light was coming. I heard the tawny frogmouth and listened. Then I went inside and wrote down what came to mind. This happened two more times and now I present the words of the wise owl to you.

There is an indigenous belief that tawny frogmouths are messengers of the dead. This spirit bird crowed three times, before the roosters and the kookaburra early in the morning. When the cock crows three times the truth is told.

The Tawny Frogmouth On Prohibition

The tawny frogmouth came to me very late last nighttawny_frogmouth_james_arthur_warren
It was very early morning and it spoke very quiet
“I’ve something important to say and this is my position
Humans will not be free until you END PROHIBITION

I’m a tawny frogmouth owl and I see your frustration
With the punitive justice drug war of incarceration
77,000 non criminal users each year locked and jailed
And crime rates have risen the drug war has failed

80 percent of the injustice system is wasted each year
Locking up people for flowers you people are queer
It is obvious to all that prohibition has failed
When you can harm minimise and empty half the jails

Make access safe and clean drugs a right
Save billions of taxpayers dollars overnight
The police could focus on violent crime
Harm minimisation means there’s less people dying

Harm minimisation means that you support the abusers
Educate and rehabilitate the hard drug abusers
Less Overdoses and violent crime gangs will fade away
Grow herbs freely at home, juice cannabis each day

It is obvious to us that you must End Prohibition
Call all politicians today is your mission
And explain all the benefits of ending the war
On drugs, children, the sick, elderly and poor

Write emails, make videos, protest and shout
End prohibition, let the prisoners out
Time to end prohibition and the drug war
On the socially vulnerable, sick, black and poor

It makes me so mad I’m usually so quiet
Said the tawny frogmouth, I want to sleep now it’s light

The Tawny Frogmouth part 2

The tawny frogmouth came to me early in the morning
As the clouds turned red, as the sun was dawning
The wise old owl hooted and the words he spoke were true
“I’m a tawny frogmouth owl, this is what you need to do”

“Write down what I tell you, what I have to say,
It’s time you humans ended all drug prohibition today
Us tawny frogmouth owls are spirits of the dead
Who died from overdoses and systemic violence” he said

“I know you find it weird and difficult to believe
But tawny frogmouth owls are loved ones that you grieve”
“That is why I’m here with my message for you
Ending Prohibition will save loved ones lives it’s true

I’m a tawny frogmouth owl and I really give a hoot
Prohibition harms but harm minimization is beaut”
I stood there quietly listening to what the wise owl said
“End all prohibition and harm minimization instead

When you end all prohibition everything will be alright
Maybe then” the tawny frogmouth said, “I’ll get some sleep at night”
A kookaburra came in the light of early morning
“Listen to the tawny frogmouth, listen to his warning”

“To end all prohibition and empty half the jails
Change your outdated laws because prohibition has failed”
The kookaburra flew off laughing “Prohibition is a failure”
End all prohibition, hurry up Australia”

The Tawny Frogmouth part 3

The tawny frogmouth owl came to me again
Said, “I’ve got a very important message for you my friend
I’ve come to visit you early in the morning
Because you are the one who will sound my warning

We wise owls think you humans are very strange
You seem so conservative and reluctant to embrace change
Your outdated laws are causing much frustration
Time to End Prohibition and change this situation

It isn’t rocket science in fact is plain to see
That your prohibition laws take people’s rights to be
Healthy, free and happy and lock them in a prison
Jails full of poor and black, incarceration rates have risen

Mummy went to jail, Nana went there too
All because of the herbal cannabis they grew
Prohibition is an attack on human rights
It is such an injustice, I have trouble sleeping at night

Humans do you get it? I do I’m an owl
Adopt harm minimization and end prohibition now
Prohibition is social manipulation, slavery in disguise
Prohibition causes violent crime to rise

When prohibition exists people live in fear
Of truth and being caught, imprisoned for a year
Please call your politicians the tawny frogmouth said
When you harm minimise, I can go to bed

Please reconsider your perspective on prohibition of drugs
Free the plants and herbs and undercut the thugs
When you end prohibition there will be a reduction in crime
With harm minimization, there will be less parents crying

When you end prohibition billions of dollars will be saved
Less cops, prisons, lawyers, deaths, more health and happiness every day
I have nearly finished, I’ll try to have a sleep
But I find it very difficult because I often weep

For the victims of the drug war, those overdosed and dead
Brothers, sisters, children’s deaths preventable he said
I’m a tawny frogmouth owl and there is something you must do
Harm minimise, end prohibition now what I’m saying is true

Everyone can see prohibition is a failure
End prohibition now change is good Australia
There is one more thing, you cannot waste your vote
Put a 1 next to the HEMP PARTY in the Senate when you vote.”

#auspol #EndProhibition #MinimiseHarm #Vote1HEMP

End Prohibition Poetry Nimbin Mardi Grass 2019
Thundercloud’s book End Prohibition Poetry Nimbin

has been updated and added to in this

2020

This poem and many more are available in my newest book Poetry to End Prohibition 420 2020 edition which I am currently crowd funding to print and release the book by the 20th of April 2020 in time for the 420 international day of protest against prohibition.

James Arthur Warren (BSc AES, GCTSL, MTESOL)
AKA Thundercloud Repairian
email:1english1@gmail.com
Writer, poet, performer and finalist in the 2019 Banjo Paterson Australian Poetry Competition
Photo: Tawny Frogmouth in front of Atlantis by James Arthur Warren
https://www.instagram.com/1english1video/

 

Free the flowers
book, Life lessons, poetry

#420 End Prohibition Poetry Nimbin Mardi Grass 2019

Read on to find out about my newest book End Prohibition Poetry Nimbin Mardi Grass 2019 released especially for the cannabis law reform rally in Nimbin, New South Wales, Australia,

I arrived in Nimbin in early May 2017 for Mardi Grass and met another newcomer to Nimbin by the name of Daniel Walmsley. Daniel was a kind young man in his mid twenties and talented artist who had just received an arts grant. He was excited to be able to do what he loved and be paid for it. Unfortunately for Daniel he overdosed and choked in his vomit early one Saturday morning. I happened to be going for an early morning walk when I came across a nurse trying to resuscitate Daniel and gave assistance

The following poem is dedicated to the memory of Daniel and all the victims of the “War on drugs” which is really a war on people who were not able to get safe doses when they were self medicating because of the punitive justice system which puts “users” in to “fear of truth”, hiding their addictions and unable to get assistance in recovery.
Daniel Walmsley

 

It started on a cold Friday

The drumming circle, dance and play

All the families gathered around

Barefoot on the cold hard ground

Drummers drumming having fun

Stomping feet down goes the sun

Fires burning in the parks

Shooting stars and burning sparks

Rhythmic hands all beat it out

The drumming circle dance about

Nimbin on a Friday night

Drum and dance by fire light

They bring their drums out to the street

Where dancing feet move to the beat

Dreadlocks smokes it clean and green

He beats his blue drum with the team

Down by the fire at the Oasis

There’s lots of friends and friendly faces

Try this hit, it won’t hurt you

He overdoses and starts to spew

Starts the walk to hospital

“I’m OhDee-ing” He starts to call

Falls down to the cold hard ground

In his vomit starts to drown

Nurse and passers by all thump

On his heart they start to pump

“Call an ambulance” they cry

“Daniel, Daniel, please don’t die

CPR the people start

Giving breath and pumping heart

Police and ambulance arrived

For forty five minutes we all tried

Sun comes up cold Saturday

Daniel’s soul flies away

Leaving behind broken hearts

Drawing and paintings of Daniel’s arts

Overdosed on cold concrete

Laying dead with cold bare feet

End prohibition right now, today

Harm minimisation saves lives we say

Laying on the cold hard ground

His heart stopped and just shut down

His life might be a memory

End prohibition for safety

End Prohibition Poetry Nimbin Mardi Grass 2019
Thundercloud’s new book End Prohibition Poetry Nimbin Mardi Grass 2019

Dedicated to the memory of Daniel Walmsley
Specially produced for Mardi Grass, I have copies of my new book now available, End Prohibition Poetry Nimbin Mardi Grass 2019 for $10+$2.50 postage in Australia.
It’s only available directly from me so send me an email 1english1@gmail.com if you would like a copy or pop in to fantAsian Eatery Nimbin to pick up a copy.

Sample
If you were the parent of a child who was sick would you give cannabis to your son named Rick?
If you were a wife of a man with cancer would you give cannabis as a life enhancer?
If you were a doctor and you knew a cure, pharmaceutical poisons or a herb that’s pure?
If a harmless herb can heal many people why is it registered, licensed, illegal?

Humour, poetry, writing

Andy Banjo Player

The Banjo Paterson Bush Poetry Festival in Orange, New South Wales begins on the 17th of February. There are a number of events happening throughout Orange and the surrounding district until the 24th of February 2019.

Events include The Banjo Paterson Bush Poetry Competition which I am entering a poem titled “Our Darling is Dying”. There is also Rotary Brekky and Poetry on the Pavers as well as Poetry in the Pub featuring the Poet’s Brawl. In the poets brawl, poets have one minute to deliver any original poem, bush, slam, rhyming, non-rhyming but must use both the words “Banjo” and “Orange”.

“Andy Banjo Player” is the poem I have written for the “poets brawl”, tell me what you think in the comments.

Andy played a banjo with an orange and he played it very bad

It made a juicy squishy sound and it drove his mother mad

Orange juice went everywhere and pith and peel too

The ants came by the millions and the fruit flies flew

He played with so much gusto and a lot of zeal

Grated it and juiced, he was left with orange peel

Only when he ran out of juice did Andy’s playing stop

So he ran out to a fruit stall and bought a kilo from the shop

Playing “Orange Crush”, the song from REM

Played every single orange till he’d juiced all of them

Bottled it and marketed it and only told the truth

Under the trade make of Andy’s Banjo Orange Juice

Copyright 2019

If you like this poetry and want to read more please follow me or you can also find me on Youtube at 1english1video

book, ecosystems, Life lessons, poetry, writing

Happy Memories and Non-violence

Some memories last a lifetime. Like happy memories. My childhood was blessed and I was surrounded with happy people. My parents, grandparents and my parents’ friends. We used to go bushwalking in the Grampians in Victoria. I was only 2 or 3 years old and I would run off up ahead along the track alone. I would watch the birds flitting in and out of the small shrubs and admire all the wild flowers that blossomed everywhere. Then I would run back to where the walking party was coming. Sometimes I would crouch down behind a tree and jump out and surprise everyone who was walking towards me. They would all act surprised and I would laugh because I thought that it was funny. I knew not to stray from the path because I could get lost. I never did get lost and I have never lost these happy memories.

I am the little boy in the photo below and holding me is a friend of my parents’, Laurie O’Brien. I always remember Laurie as a happy man and he still is. Today is his birthday and I couldn’t think of a better way to thank him for the memories than to write a happy birthday poem for him.

Memories of the Grampians

Happy Birthday it is true, Happy Birthday just for you

Happy Birthday, you are great. We love the way that you act 8.

Happy Birthday with lots of money. You know I’m just being funny

Wishing you this birthday wish, I hope you get a sloppy kiss

From your darling loving wife. Who has stuck with you all your life

Happy Birthday dear Laurie. You never seem to ever worry

I wrote this poem just for you. Read it when you’re in the loo

Happy Birthday Laurence O’Brien. I hope you have a wonderful time.

My Grandfather

Another fond memory that has never left me is that of my grandfather. He was killed in a car accident when I was only 4 years old. However the memories that I have of him are only positive. While my parents were working I would go a stay with my grandmother for the day. I used to arrive early and watch him shave before work. He would put shaving soap on my face and then pretend to shave it off. We would drive to the airport sometimes and as we would approach and overpassing bridge he say, “no more bridges” then as we went under the bridge he would tap me on the head with a rolled up newspaper and I would laugh. He would laugh. We’d both laugh together. I loved him and he loved me.

I have been fortunate in my life to have had happy and kind men around me when I was young. My father is one of those men. He never hit or smacked me and was always measured in his discipline preferring to use his words than any form of violence. For this I am grateful and this has been reflected in my peaceful non-violent attitude to life. I have never attacked anyone and only ever stepped in between people who were about to fight in order to protect them.

One year I was in West End in Brisbane and there was a drunk guy who was causing trouble. Five other guys were ushering him away and he was getting increasingly aggressive and agitated and starting to swing punches at them. I didn’t want to see him or them get hurt so I walked over, took off my shirt held up my arms and said, “if you want to hit someone hit me.” He punched into my stomach which was tensed and I felt his wrist crack. He then took a swing at my head and I ducked backwards. He just grazed my forehead and then stopped. I looked him square in the eye and said, “Is that it? Have you had enough?” His friend walked over and said to him, “I think you’d better go” He left. Nobody was hurt, except perhaps for his pride and fractured wrist.”

After I studied Environmental Science at university I worked for Greenpeace. The Cold War ended with the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989 and then the START-Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty on the 31st of July 1991 and the break up of the USSR 26th of December 1991. So by the time I worked for Greenpeace the Cold War was over. The only problem was that the USA had so much money invested in the war machine and arms production that they were addicted to profits and then had to create conflicts in through lies and deceit by dehumanising muslim people.

Now in 2021 we are in one of the most peaceful times in human history. If we get rid of armies and weapons we can truely create abundance, wealth, security and peace on Earth for all people.

We can finally thrive together, care for on another and live in peace on Earth. I wrote the “Legend of the Bombagun” as a post war vision of the world that I would like to see in the future. Below is Part 1 and the rest is available in the second of my “in Nimbin” books, Lust in Nimbin available on Amazon.

My grandfather served in the ADF in WWII and I have always honoured him and the ANZACS for the sacrifices that they made. My belief is that one day the only armies that exist will be responsible for planting trees and vegetable gardens so we can all have freely available healthy nourishing food world wide and live in peace and war will only be a memory. Thank you to all the peaceful men in my life.

Legend of the Bombagund Part 1

Henceforth the sloothan warp was hest. 

No more warp kiel est.

Legend of the Bombagund. 

Peace now reigns but the rivs were blud. 

Over there in future Earth, 

Father tells his son a story. 

“Long ago the rivs were blud”

“This story will be gory.”

Henceforth the sloothan warp was hest. 

No more warp kiel est.

Legend of the Bombagund. 

Peace now reigns but the rivs were blud. 

Warrender came in a gust of whoosh.

Against no warp did he push,

The Pushers and their rivs a blud. 

All lay down the bombagun. 

The bombagun henceforth no gotten

But the rivs a blud are not forgotten. 

The peace now rigns not the bombagund

Warps rivs a blud no longer run. 

Henceforth the sloothan warp will never. 

Warp kiel est no more ever. 

Legend of the bombagund. 

Peace now reigns and the rivs are love. 

Warrender stood between the others. 

He said, “Hey warps, kiel me yor brutha”

The Warps they answered, “Why? But no.”

“There’s rivs a blud upon the snow”

“ These bombagund no need have gotten 

but the rivs a blud are not forgotten”

Warrender came to heal the Earth 

And the rivs now run clear rainbow birth. 

Henceforth they stopped the rivs a blud. 

And the rivs now flowing rivs a love. 

Warrender stopped the Bombagund

And the rivs a blud no longer run. 

“ Tell me dad. What’s a Bombagund?”

“Twas a machine to make the rivs a blud run son”

Henceforth the sloothan warp was hest. 

No more warp kiel est. 

Legend of the Bombagund. 

The rivs now flow clear rainbow love. 

Legend of the Bombagund Illustrated on YouTube.

If you enjoyed this to can support me at https://www.buymeacoffee.com/thundercloud

or you can Become a Patron! at Patreon or just make a once off donation at Paypal

animals, book, change, Life lessons, poetry, writing

Taking the bully by the horns

A teacher once asked a preschool student what job do you want to do when you grow up. The preschool student replied, “an artist.”

The teacher laughed and said, “you’ll never be rich.”

The student replied, “No, you’ve been to university, studied hard and know everything that you’ve ever been taught, you’ll never be rich.”

Many years later the teacher was invited to a children’s book launch written and illustrated by the student. Original paintings of the illustrations were for sale for thousands of dollars and this was the student’s 6th book and the student was now an internationally recognised children’s book author and illustrator.

The following is a copy of my first published book “The flea and the dinosaur.” It is currently out of print but the story and illustrations were all done by me. I will republish it again in the future.

Many Millions of Years Ago
Tyrannosaurus rex by Thundercloud Repairian aka James Arthur Warren. The Flea and the Dinosaur page 1

Many millions of years ago, way before you and me, Tyrannosaurus Rex was born, he was bigger than a tree. About the same time flea was born, rainbow fairy flea but small and super powerful filled with joy and glee. Tyrannosaur grey and brown strong and forcefully went around tearing things down like a big bully

Today I saw a dinosaur laughing at a flea, it looked down and said, “you’re not as strong as me”…………

Rainbow fairy flea was born
Rainbow fairy flea by Thundercloud Repairian aka James Arthur Warren

The flea said to the dinosaur, “do you want to pick a fight?”

 “One thousand times my height I jump. you can’t jump with all your might.”

The flea said to the dinosaur, “I have a super skin and I can bite you anywhere my teeth will sink right in.” 

The flea said to tyrannosaur, “I can be a little snitch and I will bite you on the bum and I will make you itch”

The flea said to the dinosaur, “you can move about but I’m 100 times as fast as you that’s without a doubt.” 

The flea jumped on the dinosaur and bit him on the knee. “I’m so much more than you think don’t you mess with me.”

The flea jumped on the dinosaur and bit him in the eye. The dinosaur shed a tear and then began to cry.

Today I heard a dinosaur say, “sorry” to a flea, “without a doubt you are so much more powerful than me.”

The flea said to the dinosaur, ”don’t laugh at others too because little guys are much more powerful than forceful ones like you.”

The flea said to the Dinosaur, “you can’t run away, nowhere to run nowhere to hide have a lovely day.” 

The flea bit tyrannosaur and the dinosaurs all died and great big bullies fade away and get fried by little guys 

Today I saw a dinosaur get beaten by a flea. Big mean bullies disappeared but loving joyful fleas dance free.

I finished writing this poem at 1:33, dinosaurs became extinct but fleas still live free. 

Great big bullies fade away
The flea he bit tyrannosaur illustration by Thundercloud Repairian aka James Arthur Warren for The Flea and the Dinosaur.

I too was like the teacher once. I was a teacher and happy to take an hourly wage/salary with annual leave, sick days, superannuation of 17% and all the perks that come with a government teaching job. By the time I was 44 I had had over 50 different jobs. Then one November day in 2014 I returned home to find the roof had blown off my home. I decided to buy a double decker bus named Atlantis and go travelling and giving away free books. I lived on the smell of an oily rag, collecting and giving away free books for over 2 years until the bus broke down in Nimbin. I had started writing and my drawing skills had developed while I was living in Atlantis.

Nimbin had a great poetry scene and while I was living there I decided to illustrate and publish “The Flea and the Dinosaur.” I also published two volumes of poetry “Love in Nimbin” and “Lust in Nimbin” more recently I also published “Poetry to End Prohibition 420 2020” They are all available by following the links to Amazon.

In February 2020 I passed through Guyra on the way back to Nimbin. I had been to the Banjo Paterson Australian Poetry Competition in Orange. Here in Guyra I stopped for a walk and found an amazing empty theatre. A month later I returned to open the Australian Poetry Hall of Fame on the 24th of March 2020 which was Australia’s first day of COVID19 lockdown. It was a surreal experience moving to a new town to open business and suddenly finding the town deserted. However, 16 months later I am still here and I have just got around to opening “Seahorse Medicine Cafe here to serve vegetarian and vegan food as well as tea, coffee, soup and juices. People ask where I got the name “Seahorse Medicine” from. I have 3 unpublished volumes of children’s animal poetry by the same title.

I was told by a friend in 2016 that I have Seahorse Medicine in me. I had no idea what she was talking about at the time but now I do. I haven’t set a timeline to publish the Seahorse Medicine poetry but I have opened the cafe. Running/setting up the Australian Poetry Hall of Fame, a cafe, writing and publishing keeps me extremely occupied but they are all things that I enjoy doing.

That is what creatives do. They open their heart and do what they love. Create. Create some more and create even more. We use our creative abilities to bring joy, love and colour to the world, even when everything seems like it is going down the toilet, we will paint the toilet in bright colours. I wrote the following piece of poetry for my son’s birthday because I love him and also wanted to inspire him as well as other people. After he read it he thanked me and said “dad, that’s a good poem because it can be applied to different situations.”

I replied, “Yep.”

There may be times when the world seems mad

There will be times when you are feeling sad

But you’re strong, courageous, and in control

You can dig yourself out of any deep hole

Relax and breathe deep for a start

Let go and breathe into your heart

The toughest times might be a test

To center your self, become your best

Version of you that you can fashion

Make unconditional love your passion

From adversity we all can grow

Compassionate when cold winds blow

After cold windy winter the sun will shine

Flowers will bloom in the warm Spring time

With long warm days in the summer my friends

Winter might be cold but it always ends.

Thundercloud bring torrential rains

Rainbows shine after all our pains

Storms only ever last a few hours

New growth happens after showers

When it’s wet you can still have fun

Jumping in puddles and going for a run

When you’re cold and wet please don’t cry

Water and tears will always dry

When winds blow, and rain falls from above

We can all still smile in unconditional love

Regardless of the madness and fear

You’ll be the one to shine your light this year.

If you enjoyed this to can support me at https://www.buymeacoffee.com/thundercloud

or you can Become a Patron! at Patreon or just make a once off donation at Paypal

change, ecosystems, Life lessons, poetry

Happiness and my house is your house

I begin by acknowledging the Banbai people as the traditional custodians of the land on which I am living and the continuing connection to the land of elders past, present and emerging.

We are all visitors somewhere and my house is your house. I arrived in Guyra in late March 2020 and opened the Australian Poetry Hall of Fame on the fist day of the Australian COVID-19 lockdown. It was a surreal experience to move to a new town to open a new tourist and entertainment venture and walk outside into the main street of the town to find it deserted.

There were special exemptions for businesses which were providing an essential service. On my way to Guyra from Nimbin I went via Brisbane to see my son and I stopped at Aldi where I bought a pack of 24 bottles of water for $12. They were the first thing that I put on the shelf at $1 per bottle. In my mind, I was offering an essential service. I am an Aquarius, the water carrier and an air sign. That’s also why the name “Thundercloud” makes a lot of sense to me.

What is a Thundercloud, if not water in air?

One of my first visitors was a very friendly local woman by the name Gladys Wilson. I am Glad that I met Gladys as she has become one of my best friends in Guyra and the biggest supporter of the Australian Poetry Hall of Fame. She is the same age as my dad, she is always happy and glad and since I came along she has embraced not only writing poetry but also performing poetry. Gladys has always lived in Guyra, she grew up here, left school in grade nine and living proof that you are never too old to learn something new. Gladys has many endearing traits, one of which is that she talks to everyone and is welcoming to everyone that she meets. Gladys is a living example of “my house is your house.”

The next people that I met here in Guyra were some of the seasonal workers at the tomato farm. Guyra has the biggest tomato greenhouses in Australia and if you have eaten a tomato in Australia then there is a good chance that they come from Guyra. There are hundreds of jobs available at the tomato farm but not enough Guyra people to do the jobs, nor enough Australian people interested in moving to Guyra to work on the tomato farm. The result is that workers from the Pacific Islands come here on seasonal visas. They come from Vanuatu, Tonga, Samoa, Fiji, the Solomon Islands and more.

Tony Nati and Paul Tony were the next two people that I met and they come from and island in Vanuatu called Malekula. Tony’s brother Ken Nati also lives and works in Guyra and after this weekend Ken might be going home. All these Guys were only supposed to be in Australia for a maximum of six months and it but COVID came and they have all been here for nearly two years. Most of them have families in Vanuatu with children so when they return their children will have substantially grown up. It has been difficult for them to be away from their families for so long however there is a positive side. Vanuatu is the country in the world that is most prone to natural disasters. Cyclones, volcanos, earthquakes and tsunamis all occur in Vanuatu

The price of building materials is expensive in Vanuatu and the official currency is the Vanuatu Vatu VUV of which one Australian Dollar buys 84 Vatu. Working in Australia is one way that “Ni-Van” people get foreign currency and use it to build strong natural disaster proof homes for their families. The “Ni-Van” people here in Guyra have always been welcome to come and play music at the Australian Poetry Hall of Fame and Ken Nati, being a great rhythm piano player has embraced the opportunity and it is my pleasure to offer him and our brothers “my home.” I know that when I visit Vanuatu, and I will visit Vanuatu, that I will be welcomed into their home like it is my home with full Vanuatu hospitality.

Vanuatu might be the most natural disaster prone country in the world but is also the 4th happiest country in the world according to the “Happy Planet Index” . Next month, July 30th is the 41st anniversary of Vanuatu independence and I am holding the local Guyra celebration here at the Australian Poetry Hall of Fame as a funds raiser for the Melanesia Volleyball Club which is made up of members of the Seasonal Worker Program.

Today I met some new arrivals for the seasonal worker program. They are from the Solomon Islands and they came to ask me if they could come and practice their singing in the theatre here. I said yes of course and was treated to the two angelic voices of Sina and Leslie. There is no data on the happiness index of the Solomon Islands but somehow I reckon that they are pretty happy people too. The odd thing is that when I look at the Happy Planet Index Map most of the so called wealthy countries are in red or orange and not that happy and most of the happiest countries are less wealthy.

It just goes to show that money can’t buy happiness.

My House is Your House

My house is your house, we are all visitors

Welcome in my door, one day I’ll visit yours

When you visit my house, please bring harmony

Make yourself at home, please have a cup of tea

My house is your house as you are my brother

We’re from different lands and another mother

Come well into my house, enjoy my hospitality

As I know that you would do the same for me.

My house is your house, we can be good friends

This is our beginning and not where it ends

I don’t care if you’re rich nor if you are poor

Young or old, with respect, you’re welcome in my door

My house is your house, let us both be happy

When I visit your house, I won’t make it crappy

Welcome into my house, I see you brought a smile

Let’s enjoy our time together, let’s enjoy a while.

If you enjoyed this you can buy me a coffee

Life lessons, poetry

Bringing the joy of spirit and be a gnome

I have a way with words in that I understand the power of words and thus I have a responsibility to be mindful of what words I speak and write. Once written, words are in the “ether” or quantum field of vibration forever.

Words can affect emotions and cause effects that may not be immediately evident. An example of this is the “Emerald Tablet of Thoth” translated by Hermes Trismegistus or the Bible and the Bhagavad Gita. All three of these books still influence people to this day.

When I was 17 years old I was an MC along with my friend Clay in the High School Musical and at the end of the final performance I was given the task of presenting gifts to all the teachers who had helped to bring the performance together. The night before, I lay in my bed thinking about all the funny things that I could say about each teacher. The time of the presentation came and as I presented the gifts I had the audience in stitches laughing at the expense of the teachers that I was “roasting.” That was when I realised the power of joy and laughter.

Personally, I have never liked violent of horror movies. I don’t like the feeling of being scared but I do like comedy and I love a good laugh. Jump forward twenty years and I began teaching English as a Second Language to refugees and people from backgrounds of torture and trauma. I realised that in order to remember something, recall is best in a positive emotional state. So I set about making sure my classroom was always a positive and nurturing one without anger and with a lot of happiness. It’s not always easy to tell a joke to someone who you are teaching a second language because much humour and jokes have an underlying expectation of knowledge of cultural context. Since a twenty year old who has spent eight years in a refugee camp has little knowledge of the new country that they are living in it was useless to make cultural based joke. What could I do?

Enjoy myself. Demonstrate positivity. One of the things that I quickly learnt as a father of sons and educator was that you can not teach someone who is not ready to learn and the best learning comes from setting an example and then allowing people to follow your example in their own time. This is because everyone learns at different rates and when they are ready they will adopt their own version of their best self.

“Si liang bo qian jin” is a Chinese proverb translated to “make great accomodations with little efforts.” It has a meaning like “a single spark can start a great fire” or “a single snowflake can bend a bamboo leaf.” it has often been mistranslated to mean “four ounces can move one thousand pounds.” I like to put it into the context of telling a joke were a few simple words can bring laughter to thousands.

In the same way it only takes two people dancing to get a whole crowd dancing. One lone nut and then “the first follower” Check out Derek Sivers TED Talk “How to start a movement”

The choice is yours. What are you going to bring to the table? Anger or joy? Are you going to be the lone nut or first follower?

The gnome and the dragon

There once was a Dragon who believed life was crappy,

Waiting for happiness and not creating happy

The Dragon wanted everyone to bring the Dragon joy

But everybody left who the dragon would employ

The dragon had no purpose, no drive or self direction

Wouldn’t self control, self regulate, nor attempt self correction

Along came a gentle Gnome and this is what he said

“Your thoughts create reality and the words you use in your head

And for you to find true happiness just look inside your heart

Create the life you dream of, it’s never too late to start”

“Now I can’t hang around, I’m going to make some fun

And when I feel like dancing I dance out in the sun

“The Gnome went on his way and sang a happy song

“Psytrance Doof, reggae, drum’n’bass keeps me dancing all day long

“He went to the top of the mountain built a temple to fun and joy

Happy Faeries, Dwarfs, Hamadryads, Nymphs and Spirits he’d employ

They’d dance and sing, play music and make their ears ringing

The dragon in the valley could hear their joyful singing

The dragon decided to take control and to recreate

A life of happiness, develop and become great

And instead of sitting about waiting for an answer

Found happiness and joy by becoming a good dancer

The dragon flew up high and knocked on the door of Gnome

When the door was opened, she danced into his home

“Thank you Gentle Gnome for sharing your wisdom and light

I didn’t listen but you showed me how to find happiness inside”

“I was focused on the past and it was stopping me

But now focused on my purpose my mind is truly free

I recreated myself from the love I found inside

When I looked inside as you suggested my love could not hide”

The Gnome replied to Dragon, ” the words you speak are true”

“when you love and nurture yourself others respect and love you too”

“Dragon you scales are shining bright from your love inside”

“Now you care for your health the love inside can’t hide”

If you enjoyed this blog post you can support me at

https://www.buymeacoffee.com/thundercloud

The gnome and the dragon by Thundercloud
biography, Humour, poetry, writing

Australian Bush Poetry and falling into the toilet.

Australian Bush Poetry, according to the Australian Bush Poets Association has “strict meter and rhyme.” I guess it is also about Australia. In 2019 I travelled to Orange to the Banjo Paterson Australian Poetry Festival and competed in the Banjo Paterson Australian Poetry Competition where I received third place with my poem, Our Darling is Dying. The poem speaks about how the Darling/Barka River was dry and the causes as well as the effects in the first nations people of Wilcannia, the Barkindji people.

In February 2020, I returned to Orange to have another go with a piece of poetry titled Happy Harry Koala. It is about a koala who loses his home to forest destruction and then his new home to bushfire before meeting a man who plants forest corridors and this allows Happy Harry Koala to become reunited with his family and allowed koala populations to recover. I wrote this as a solution to koala population decline with the perspective of an environmental scientist(which I am) in mind and also from the perspective of someone who has worked in forest establishment (which I have). My scores from the three judges were: 1. above 90% (from the 3 times bush poetry champion) 2. above 70% from the second judge and 3. a scathing review just above 50% from the judge representing the Australian Bush Poets Association who commented words to the effect, “this is not bush poetry and is more like a kids story.” I agree that Happy Harry Koala is a kids story however it is written with strict rhyme and meter and in the form of Australian bush poetry. I didn’t place in the top three but I did a fantastic performance and the scores of the first two judges reflected that.

You can please some of the people some of the time but you can’t please all of the people all of the time. C’est la vie (That’s life).

Yesterday, the 17th of June 2021 I got a couple of new rhyming lines stuck in my head. When that happens I know that I need to begin writing and that the rest of the poem is there in my subconscious ready to be “downloaded.” In fact I often think that when I am writing that I am channelling “divine consciousness” and that “i” am only the conduit. So I began writing about a man who fell into a toilet.

Here in Australia we have a slang name for our toilets which is the word “dunny.” Back in the day our toilets used to be detached from the house and you would need to go in a walk outside, down the stairs into the back yard. These days there are some “dunnies” which are composting toilets which save on water and are basically a hole in the ground leading to a large receptacle chamber. This receptacle can be above or below ground level but is full of poo, wee, toilet paper with a bit of wood sawdust thrown in from the bucket next to the toilet.

Another peculiarity of the bush dunny is that they are often places that frogs like to inhabit. It would not be a pleasant experience to fall into a toilet but thats precisely what happened to Phil McColl. Finally, the word “thongs” in Australia refer to a type of rubber sandal that you slip onto your feet and are NOT a piece of underwear. The SES is the State Emergency Service.

Phil McColl fill me hole

A peaceful place is Froggy Flat and my story’s funny

About a man called Phil McColl who fell head first in the dunny

It was a dark and lonely night and this is not a joke

As Phil walked to the toilet, the dunny made a croak

He turned his phone torch on and opened up the door

And as he walked inside, the dunny croaked once more

Then the dunny kept on croaking in the middle of the night

He shone the torch about to find everything all right

It was long drop compost with not a pleasant smell

As he opened up the lid he tripped and his phone fell

It was dark inside the dunny but he knew his phone was right

It had landed on the sawdust and Phil could see the light

He went back to the kitchen and got a pair of tongs

His feet were cold and so he put on a pair of thongs

In the dark he couldn’t see the thongs belonged to his wife

They were too small and the cause of the coming strife

His wife awoke to an empty bed and also needed to pee

In the dark she donned Phil’s thongs because she couldn’t see

In Froggy Flat the dunny is down the garden path

In Phil’s big thongs Mrs McColl slipped and fell flat on her arse

Phil was head first in the toilet and he was leaning in

Reaching for his phone when Mrs McColl burst in

Saw her thongs on Phil and she began to yell

And in surprise Phil lost his grip and that is when he fell

Head first down the dunny and landed on his phone

He wiped it off and that is when he found he wasn’t alone

There inside the dunny was a giant green tree frog

Staring him in the face and croaking on a log

Mrs Mac looked down the hole and said what can I do

I’m busting for a pee and I really need to poo

I’ve got a turtle head and it’s starting to poke out

Call the SES you stupid woman, Phil began to shout

Mrs Mac got angry pulled up her nighty and had a sit

The she let it rip and Phil got covered in more shit

She went back to the kitchen and made a cup of tea

Called the SES and all Phil’s mates to come around and see

They had to dig him out as Phil was firmly stuck

With a pump, an excavator and the local sewage truck

That afternoon Phil was feed and he gave a happy shout

He’d been stuck in shit fourteen hours before they dug him out.

A peaceful place is Froggy Flat but you won’t find Phil McColl

The locals now refer to Phil McColl as Fill me hole

Copyright 2021

Not everything is shit and as Thundercloud, I know that every cloud has a silver lining. After the Banjo Paterson Poetry Competition and festival in 2020 I decided that I was in no hurry to return to Nimbin and decided to take the slow road home and stop in the little country towns along the way. What is an 8 hour drive took me more than 24 hours. I left Orange late in the morning, stopped in Molong and saw the New South Wales over 50s cricket championship final and I was one of the only spectators. Then I stopped in Dunnedoo for lunch. It was late in the evening and I was tired when I reached Bendemeer so I stopped in a park, drove up beside a picnic shelter and rolled my swag out on the picnic table by the creek. I awoke early the next morning and continued to Armidale where I got a coffee at Maccas, then I continued up the hill through “the Pinch” to Black Mountain where I turned off and went to see Captain Thunderbolt’s Cave. Thunderbolt was a famous Australian bushranger a bit like Robin Hood in that he took from the rich and gave to the poor.

It was 6:30 am and a misty mystical morning with crepuscular rays of sunlight beaming through ancient yellow box and white box eucalyptus trees. Small white flowers lined the track and the beauty and silence of the Australian bush made me feel blessed to experience its tranquility while dainty birds tweeted, flitted and flew from bush to bush. Butterflies danced about in the air and dew drops glistened from spiders’ webs in the mist. I entered Thunderbolt’s cave and could imagine his big black thoroughbred horse in there with him waiting for the clang of tackle and chains and clop hooves of the Cobb and Co mail coach coming up “The Pinch.” In the distance I heard a more modern sound, a truck coming up the Pinch.

I returned to my car and there I found a necklace with a rocking horse and a wishbone. The next stop was Guyra ten kilometres up the hill and instead of passing through on the New England Highway I decided that I’d get another coffee and visit the town. It was 8:30 am and as I drove into Guyra I noted all the empty shops with “for lease” signs. I thought to myself, “this town has a lot of potential” I got out of my car at the Northern end of town near Kirks IGA and as I walked down the street looking for a place to buy a coffee I looked in the empty shops and thought about what business I could put there. Finally I saw a shop that I thought would make a lovely gallery, and then I saw this place I am sitting in now writing this blog.

I looked in the doors and saw a foyer with shelves down the side and behind that I could se a grand empty theatre and a stage. My jaw dropped. I walked on to the Council Chambers and spoke to John who was raising the flags. When I returned to the theatre I pulled out my phone and called the owner of the building. He came down and we walked inside. As soon as I got into the auditorium I said, “I’ll take it.” he showed me around and I knew I was going to something big. I got back into my car and started driving.

Then it hit me. “The Australian Poetry Hall of Fame.” We could celebrate all the great poets and the unknown poets of Australia. We could nurture poets. We could preserve Australian poets, poetry, languages (not just English but the first nations languages) songlines and more. We could make “The Greatest Poetry Show on Earth” That was February 2020 and I opened on the 24th of March 2020 the first day of COVID19 lockdown. It’s been a tough first 16 months, I sold my double decker bus “Atlantis” the Free blue Library to finance the Australian Hall of Fame but I am still here. You can support the Australian Poetry Hall of Fame gofundme page to help me continue to build this as a successful venture to celebrate Australian poetry and poets.

I started the Guyra Farmers and Craft Market in the theatre every Saturday morning and two of my stall holders have gone on to open businesses in Guyra. I started Wednesday Words open mic poetry night every Wednesday evening and have made a wonderful friend, Gladys Wilson who is my dad’s age and has been inspired to write poetry. Guyra is a cold town in Banbai Country, halfway between Sydney and Brisbane. At 1330m altitude it’s one of the coldest towns in New South Wales; but it snows and we can make snow people.

Guyra Strength

The sun shines and the winds blow

It’s dry, wet, there’s sleet and snow

If you live in Guyra you will get cold

Become tough and strong, live real old

Living in Guyra has wind and sun

People here walk fast and run

Frosty, brisk and wide blue skies

Red sunset and misty sunrise

Ice on Mother of Ducks Lagoon

Spring rains bring more ducks soon

Sunset and the fresh day ends

Sitting around fires yarning with friends

If you enjoyed this and would like more to read more of my poetry the you can support me at www.buymeacoffee.com/thundercloud

Guyra Strength by Thundercloud Repairian