change, Humour, Life lessons, poetry, writing

Meditation and transformational poetry

There are times especially when I meditate that poetry downloads occur which present basic truths in their simplicity. In fact it seems to me that most fundamental truths are simple, such as the hermetic principle of cause and effect. Often the statements and poetry are transformational realisations that come when I am meditating on someone with “stuck” thinking patterns that are causing pain. Recently there have been a few poems which are this way so I’m just going to dump them below in no particular order for your pondering pleasure.

De-pollution “Contrails or chem-trails the humidity is high Here in the mountains as jets cross the sky

Streaky like bacon in a sky cyan and azure

Whether contrails or chem-trails, neither are pure

Condensate clouds form to droplets of rain

With la Nina this rain brings flood and pain

Thunderclouds rolling across the down under

Desert plains greened after storm thunder

Washing away garbage, change left behind

Baggage is lost for a new state of mind

Normal never was exposed by rat test

Stress brings opportunity to become your best

Mooganar Thundercloud Lightning and rain

Rainbows bring opportunity for growth again” Thundercloud quotes

Fear of fear

Is fear of avocadoes called avophobia?

Did someone locked in a closet get claustrophobia?

Androphobia is fear of men, not only Andrew. Angropbobia is fear of anger but fear of thunder and fear of lightning is astraphobia not thunderphobia or lightningphobia.

What about fear of door-knockers? Jehovahphobia?Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia is obviously fear of long words. Invented by a troll.

Where’s my phone? Nomophobia. Fear of not having your phone…….. Venustraphobia is not as it seems but fear of beautiful women. While witches and witchcraft are obviously wiccaphobia.

Zuigerphobia isn’t quite so self explanatory, it kind of sucks, like fear of vacuum cleaners.

What about a fear of fear? Phobiaphobia…

Or does it cancel itself out because it is a double negative and become

Love

All

“There is no beginning because something always happened before.

There is no end because something will always happen after the end

If you close a door, you’re on one side of the door

When you walk around a corner you have gone around a bend

We can see only a fraction of the whole spectrum of light

We can only hear a fraction of the whole spectrum of sound

Without our filters it would be a bright and noisy nigh

We are connected as one with everything and all the energy around”

And now for something completely different

Life is about spirit

some won’t want to listen or hear it

but you can lift yourself up if you employ

a new attitude to life of acceptance, bliss, peace, joy

Decide get up from the lower negative emotional vibration

Release trauma from within and relax into Iration

Connect your heart and third eye to begin creation

Do everything or nothing with this information

Man, woman, other, girl or boy

POET

Poet once tried to describe the beauty of the entire Earth

Every day Poet wrote of poetry of lush green mountains filled with cotton wool Mist

Valleys filled with raging rivers and puffy clouds

Great walls and tiny fleas,

Rocks

Pebbles

Stones crystals and jewels

The flight of a raven

A murder of crows

Pyramids, Pythagoras and pixies

Brumbies and ponies running though the snow

Poet awoke each day in amazement and when Poet read their own poetry they thought of more beauty of the Earth that had not yet been written

Waterwalls tall and narrow, wide and raging

Autum colours

Bare skeletal branches in winter

Daffodils in spring

A golden sand beach with footprints

Walking along a path with sand between the toes

The taste of rain water

When poet though of how incredible the Earth is,

Poet’s heart was so filed with love for Earth that tears of joy welled up

often

This only inspired Poet more

For many years Poet wrote

But every day there was more

Jungles with vines, jaguars, anaconda

Pandas eating bamboo

Deserts, tundra and plains

Jagged peaks, gentle rolling green hills

White, red, yellow, brown cliffs

And more

But each day Poet awoke

Began to write

With gratitude

Thankyou for this planet

With the fresh blue air

For the water and the sun

The ocean to wash my hair

The rivers forests trees

Monkey, rainbows and bumble bees

Rivers rocks, fjords and lochs

Poet traveled far and wide to see the Earth

This only inspired Port more

Poet climbed hills swam oceans, reefs and with colourful coral fish

And wrote about it all.

One day Poet awoke

Poet walked out side

Poet had no pen or paper

Walked into the green field

Lay down

Watched a butterfly emerge from a cocoon

It was large, black with shimmerimg green, blues and violet patches in its wings

Poet closed their eyes

And relaxed

The ants and crows quickly devoured

Most of the flesh

And the maggots the rest

Poet lived a very very long life

More than 900 years

But Poet’s poetry lasted

… Forever.

Progress

“If you keep doing the same thing every day, very little about you will change, There will be minimal progress, improvement or personal development without habit change.

Your life will become mediocre, with resentment, self loathing and hate, but if you set a goal with passion and take action everyone can be great” Thundercloud Quotes, ©️2022

Extra Comments on Progress: “If you don’t imagine a better life and change your situation, then you’ll be resentful, angry, and live life in frustration”

“Every human has potential for continuous growth and creation, if they’d believe in themselves they can create any situation”

“The words we use to describe ourselves are true from our own perspective, so we must change the things we say about ourselves if we want to be self directive.”

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
book, change, health, Humour, poetry, poetry, politics, prohibition

My new Book Check this out at Amazon

Poetry To End Prohibition: Thundercloud Repairian (3) https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/0648346889/ref=cm_sw_r_u_apa_fabc_3jV8Fb8D9PBY6

Humour, poetry

Thunderous Laughter

4 million seconds of joy were created
Not fear nor anger, jealousy or hatred
Laughter and smiles became the infection
From sharing my joy, passion and affection

My happiness burst and I let it go
Showed stellar passion for falling snow
Drifting, blowing I let my self go
Let my love of life and passions show

55 thousand people all made a smile
From snow falling sharing the smile on my dial
In 83 seconds by sharing my happiness
I raised the vibration to laughter from crappiness

Simple snow falling lifted my spirit
Like Thunderous laughter all want to hear it
Give thanks for the snow, cold winds that blow
Celebrate life and let your joy show

Leave the inside and step outside
You can decide to bloom and not hide
Fun, laughter and beauty are coming your way
Anxiety, gone, and joy is here to stay

Laughing at the snow falling on me
Celebrating life emotionally open and free
Because inside me I found the joy of a child
And snow falling tickled my little bit wild

Thanks for the laughter in every day
There’s joy if you look, beware what you say
Share the good news about make others happy
In this age of blessings noone should feel crappy

We’ve connection with all of the global community
And we can work together in harmony and unity
My purpose to share joy and make others laugh
Which is more achievable than a flying giraffe

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10222783166278519&id=1556263508

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