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These paragraphs were Debbie's words. She had asked me to publish her poems on Brad's website to show other's going through difficult times, that you can pull through them. She felt a connection to Brad and his emotional pain because she had been through dark times too.
Debbie passed away on 24th June 2009. She had been in a horrific road accident at the start of the year and had been recieving treatment for her injuries when she found out she had cancer that had spread to her lungs and brain. She was a fighter but lost her battle after a short illness. Debbie wanted to be heard and I am respecting her wishes. Julie-Anne
These writtings were Debbie's words, her thoughts. She had asked me to publish her poems on Brad's website to show other's going through difficult times, that you can pull through them. She felt a connection to Brad and his emotional pain because she had been through dark times too.
Debbie passed away on 24th June 2009. She had been in a horrific road accident at the start of the year and had been recieving treatment for her injuries when she found out she had cancer that had spread to her lungs and brain. She was a fighter but lost her battle after a short illness. Debbie wanted to be heard and I am respecting her wishes. Julie-Anne
"My Journey..."
"This is my journey from darkness to light. Some of these poems were written during my teenage years where darkness often filled my days. To my adult years, where hope began to grow… Where a small spark…then a flame, began to light the darkness and make sense of things that happened".
"These poems are about growing and coming to terms with the person I am today…the person I was yesterday…coming to terms with events and people who shaped my life. A lot of them are about sadness and loss…questions about the way things were".
"It was not all bad…there were good times…easy times. In the hard times we need a friend…mine was my pen. These days I have replaced my pen with real people, people who fill my life with happiness and honesty…life is good".
"Each poem has a story, if you want to understand ask me and I will share. If you know anyone who can relate to these poems or are suffering as I did through those years…I am happy to share. The writing of these poems held me up…but it was people who lifted me to the greatest heights".
Debbie Argus
DUST TO DUST (1976)
Have you looked into a face,
And wondered from which place
it came?
And when?
And why?
Have you ever picked a fading flower
And known you’ve brought its final hour
Closer?
Now a reality, not a fear,
Before it would have asked,
“Which year is mine?”
But now it is the time.
Look at the flower
and look at the face,
ask to be taken to the place
where they’re buried beneath the land.
Destroyed be the artists hand
To be used as dust for the land.
CAN YOU HEAR ME? (1976)
I’m troubled God
But I don’t want to trouble you,
Because that’s only using you
And I’ve been used before.
I need your help God
because I don’t know what to do.
Sometimes I think
I’d rather be with you
It’s a problem I can’t talk about
to anyone I know
but God, I’m all mixed up
and I hope it doesn’t show.
GOOD DAYS (1976)
I see our land.
I feel the breeze.
Man and nature
both at ease.
This land is ours,
It’s soft and sweet
I feel the earth
beneath my feet.
I’m here by myself
but lonely? Not I!
It’s hard to live
But fun to try.
SLEEP AND DREAM (1976)
My mind is a time-bomb… ticking away,
Ready to explode into a thousand pieces.
My body is aching a dull ache,
I am but an empty shell
With nothing to distract or please me.
If only I could change my spirit,
change my world,
Live in a faraway place
as a faraway person
as far away as Jupiter is from the sun.
Let me sleep – for when I sleep I dream,
my only escape
Escape from the hard world,
away from things that are solid,
like walls and curtains that hide the truth.
Let me see the flowers and the birds again.
Let me breathe the air…see the sunrise.
The sun has been set for such a long time.
If you can’t give me this
then let me sleep
and dream.
DIRECTIONS (1985)
The change in me is moving slow.
I thought that I’d begun to grow.
The days slip past,
Those feelings last.
The outcome? I don’t know.
Too scared, or brave?
Too weak, or strong?
Oh, which is me
So right or wrong?
So full of fear,
Please don’t come near.
Just leave me here…
but not for long.
I’ll fight again, no doubt have I.
I vowed I’d never lay down and die.
I’ll climb, I’ll slip,
I’ll climb, I’ll fall
But in the end I’ll scale the wall.
No consequence the small defeats
if I win without deceit.
HONESTY (1982)
Honesty,
Showing the core
of ugliness within.
The hopeful, outstretched hand
of the child,
turning,
choking,
twisting the hours,
the days,
the weeks,
into a state of non-existence.
What happened…the dreams?
What happened…the hope?
FATHER AND SON (1986)
You are the father.
You are the son.
You are different,
yet you are one.
Mother, daughter,
not the same,
but more to us
than just a name.
Can you see
the damage done?
The pain…the hurt,
to more than one.
In the name of love
or drink or youth,
say what you like
but still uncouth.
It must stop
and hurt no more,
and act the part
you were cast for.
MICHAEL (1986)
Michael, my fantasy,
my rock.
I held on to you
as long as I possibly could
but in the end
they made me accept reality
and you were gone.
Michael, my rock.
Many times I called
and you were there,
always the safe, loving protector
of my fears,
the safe, loving accepter
of my pains.
But in the end
they made me accept reality
and you were gone
Michael, my protector
I called
and you were gone.
This time you didn’t answer
and I was left here on my own.
Why did I listen?
Why did I believe?
They said you weren’t real.
But we knew different.
Didn’t we?
But in the end
they made me accept reality
and we were gone.
AFRAID (1988)
I sat
waiting for the call
to tell me
he had died
Afraid
to go any closer
than the phone
Afraid
to be confronted
by his aging body
his depressing
sense of self.
Afraid
to watch him drift
into eternity
Afraid
to accept that he
had any bearing
on my life.
Afraid
to acknowledge caring.
And when it finally rang
I was too afraid to answer.
FATHER OF MINE (1988)
Oh Father of mine, as you lay ill
I think of living pictures still.
Of times, some good
and times so bad,
it could be said I’m feeling sad.
Oh Father of mine, a broken man.
I do not think I understand
a man who is strong,
who was right and wrong.
It could be said
we didn’t belong.
Oh father of mine, now I can see
that I’m part of you and you of me.
And the love was there
for us to share,
but it could be said
we didn’t know where.
Oh Father of mine, as you lay ill
and I remember pictures still
I hope and pray
as the years flash by
that you, my Father, will not die.
LITTLE MISS MUFFET (1987)
Little Miss Muffet sat on her tuffet,
eating her curds and whey.
Along came a spider and sat down beside her,
and said, “Miss Muffet you must stay!”
Little Miss Muffet stayed on her tuffet
thinking it must be a dream.
She felt the black spider crawl up inside her,
and didn’t know whether to scream.
Little Miss Muffet perched on her tuffet
didn’t know whether to run.
He prodded and poked, he laughed and he joked
and said, “Don’t tell anyone!”
Little Miss Muffet said, “Go ahead stuff it.”
“I don’t care what happens to me.”
Spiders have fun, little misses can’t run
but it’s not the way it should be.
Little Miss Muffet outgrew her tuffet.
Now she’s brushing the cobwebs away.
She thinks of the spider lying beside her.
The memories won’t go away.
HE … NORMALITY (1989)
Into my life normality creeps.
He is there
a welcome intruder.
I feel I have known him, Normality,
all of my life,
and I will keep his company
forever more.
He turns, Normality,
He sneaks,
Leaving me
as he’s done so many times before.
He is gone, Normality,
and I am left wondering if I knew him at all.
Had I been dreaming?
And as I wonder
Normality returns…redeeming
DOG GONE IN BY DOGGY-DO THAT HE DONE!
(Unfortunately I have to claim this as well)
My Aunty Norma sat in the corner
of her garden on a bright, autumn day.
She was unhappy over
her neighbor’s dog, “ROVER”
who messed up her lawn with dog-do.
So, out of the blue
from the sole of her shoe
she threw the dog-do up and over.
It hit the mutt’s head
and the dog fell down dead.
Now there’s no more dig-do don by “ROVER”!
THE DARK-EYED ONE (1990)
Boa, the dark eyed one
drifts to the land
that no man knows
and by his choice or destiny,
he goes alone.
Shrieking,
like a wild boar,
he runs a rampage
through my heart.
He leaves me wounded
and knows nothing of himself.
He will return
say those who wait
and fear in vain.
And as they wait
his spirit drifts, returns
then drifts again.
IN THE FACE OF OPPOSITION (1989)
In the face of opposition
I stood to make my mark.
And a flaming candle roared
from an unknown, inner spark.
I rose to meet the challenge
and, although the war was lost,
I vowed to win this battle
no matter what it cost.
Now I rest here in the aftermath
no sign of pain or fury.
You may be left to ponder but
my conscience sits as jury.
In the face of opposition
I stood and made my mark
and the unknown, inner candle
flame forever lights the dark.
STORM WEARY (1990)
I walk down this trodden path, storm weary.
I see the light, the love that I call home.
I’m thankful for the peace that here surrounds me.
I survive but I survive not on my own.
I sort events that happened – past and present.
Things near my heart and others far away.
I question why. I wonder. Losing Battle.
Are these things, however spoken, here to stay.
I think of happy, loving babes in arms,
and children running, laughing, so carefree.
and women mending shattered youth about them.
And I wonder why you felt you needed me?
I call out to another, an outsider,
for help but not because the love has gone.
But for the pain,
the shame, deep in my heart and theirs.
The suffer – sorrow cycle can’t go on.
INFLICTIONS (1992)
I am Ravakash
I am not to be pitied.
I stand three feet tall…
or I would if I could stand.
I am Matthew
I, too, would stand three feet tall,
but I lie in my cot
through lonely days and nights.
I am the driver
I see them once a week.
I see the infliction…
the loneliness…
the sadness of it all.
I see their infliction
but they do not see mine.
THE FIRST STEP (1990)
During a storm of creativity
Words flow…
Like waters of the rapids white.
Flowing over and over in my mind
until they reach
the stillness of the paper.
The mood has ended.
FOR DONNA (1990)
Too many children
Sad eyes
Hiding smile.
Forgotten stories
dormant
all the while.
The things they do
to those
too young to care.
Forgotten stories
buried
deep somewhere.
The hiding smiles
Sad eyes
are there to see,
When a lonely child
comes back to visit me.
THE OLD MAN (1978)
“I’ve lived my life,” the old man said
with a tear in his eye
as he lifted his head
from a pillow that was stained
and smelt of grog.
His body, once powerful
now lay like a log.
He had been poisoned,
poisoned by death.
Waiting so helpless
for that final breath.
The breath that would free him.
take him away
from that life of pain
that had made him stay
locked up in a room
always alone
Does it matter to you
if the old man moans?
THE CONCRETE FORTRESS (1989)
I drive past the concrete fortress
on my way to nowhere
and I spy the willing occupants
leaving,
believing
that they were safe in there.
But I know different!
They’re pushing wire on wheels,
some arriving, others leaving.
Friendly smiles
quite deceiving –
But I know different!
Oblivious to the fact that there within
the rising walls and gaping holes below
are evil spirits,
demons they don’t know-
But I know different!
They lie in wait for me to enter.
You call this a shopping center –
But I know different!
BABY BLUE (1984)
The coldness of a winter’s day
brings memories back
I’d rather keep away,
of broken hearts
and broken vows
Wondering why
and wondering how,
the day she took our baby blue away.
Too late return the fragments
to the hearts that felt the wrong.
Too late our baby blue.
Do you know where you belong?
Do you know our baby blue?
Do you know we’re part of you?
Has she ever called your name?
Do you know we felt that pain
the day she took our baby blue away?
Too late return the fragments
to the hearts that felt the pain.
Too late our baby blue.
Do you know you bare our name?
Baby blue…baby blue…
Do you know we cry for you?
and the hearts that felt the pain
will always feel the same.
THE POVERTY OF LIFE (1990)
The poverty of life
reaches into my heart.
I feel it trapped, shaking me from within
But what can I do?
It leaves a saddened
mark upon my being.
Me, an observer
to their pain
But what can I do?
My mind says action
is the only way to go.
My lazy body pleased
that publication brings response.
So I don’t have “ to do”.
TO THE BEACH (1989)
To the beach in winter
Wild waves upon the sand
I sit and quietly ponder
as the ocean greets the land.
The icy winter winds
scraping harshly at my face.
With the absent summer crowds
solitude has blessed this place.
I toss an empty, broken shell
across the moving shore.
To spend this pensive moment here,
I couldn’t ask for more.
I cherish memories winters day
A final look… I turn
and as I slowly walk away
silent promises return.
THE PHOTO (1987)
Young woman in the photo
her eyes reached out to say,
Laughing children,
pay attention,
it may be you one day!
Raindrops on the window.
Teardrops on her face,
and I couldn’t help
but wonder,
if she really knew her place.
As we talked of lonely people
and wondered who to blame,
I stared again with feeling
at the face without a name.
MY CHOICE (1987)
I ask for no-one
and nothing in return.
And I pay the price
if from my loneliness
I yearn
for something more.
For in these times
that I retreat within
I escape
and promises begin
to fill the void.
MEMORIES OF THIS (1992)
I hear you voice as your story’s told
of the boy grown into man,
from the sickly boy who walked again
to the boy who toiled the land.
Just a lad, you packed your pushbike,
frypan and a few supplies,
set out to work Australia
followed swaggies, heat and flies
Adventure came a callin’
and you worked your way up north,
to the tin mines up past Cairns
and you worked for all you’re worth.
You always were a proud man,
a loner, you would say
and you joined the proud protectors
and proudly marched away.
You fought the war, in England
loading bombs onto the planes.
Some mates you waved to, came back,
some, you never saw again.
And when the war was over
to Germany you did march,
picking up the pieces
then home again at last.
It was Melbourne you called home,
with a wife and daughter and three sons,
and you thoughts in lonely trucking hours
were always loving ones.
Your work and life continued
through all the years as goes,
through good times and through hard times,
life’s happiness and woes.
And in the final days,
cancer came and took you home.
With dignity and courage
you fought then marched alone.
Now in the lonely hours
when it’s you we really miss,
there’s peace and love and strength from you
and memories of this.
MOURNING TWISTED UGLINESS (1992)
I mourn our fathers
old and grey.
I mourn the twisted ugliness
surrounding sometimes bright eyes trapped within the shell.
But is mourning
and a sometimes gentle touch
enough to get us through this hell.
WAITING ON DEATH ROW (1994)
The tears drip down my cheeks
as if coming from an endless faucet.
I wait … all hope shattered
by a hopeless verdict.
The sentence?
Life!
Her life, my life.
It’s all the same.
Her life ended.
My heart lame.
COMPARISONS (1978)
A child at it’s mother’s breast.
An old sits for a well earned rest.
This child is a rosebud waiting to bloom.
The old man sits lonely, alone in his room
The child learns to laugh, the child learns to talk.
The old man sighs,
and replaces the cork
to the bottle.
AN EMPTY PLACE (1992)
The thing that was…I know of him, has gone.
His frail and aging body wasted still.
But far beyond that rampant growth
the soul remains untouched and always will.
The pain that was the pain that brought him down,
that pulled at bones and ripped his inner core.
It had him fighting bravely till the end.
That pain, that dreaded pain, no more.
We walk, we walk away, with wet eyes still
and pray for ageless souls to meet again.
No fill the mighty hole that our hearts bare.
We prayed his peace but not to send him there.
And now, we walk alone, his soul set free.
The only pain is the pain that bothers me.
The pain of empty days, an empty place…
an empty place at home where he should be.
A PLACE AND TIME (1995)
Time moves on,
with no consideration for my feelings.
Sometimes I just sit …staring
at a place and time before your death.
But I am just an observer of these memories.
I cannot step into those rooms.
I cannot shelter in those arms.
The most, the very most
that I can do,
is hold the memory of your face,
for just a second, in my mind.
Or hold the sensation of how it felt
for me to be with you,
and know that I once spoke to you
as I speak now.
SOMETIME IN APRIL (1989)
The old soldiers march
with proud, united faces.
Strong memories
that I know nothing of.
Why aren’t you there, Father,
to take your rightful place?
Yet another part of your life
that you couldn’t claim?
A part of you,
oh yes,
another part of you
that I don’t know or understand.
Why aren’t you there Father?
No doubt your memories
march with theirs
as you sit watching.
March on old soldier.
CHANGI (1995)
I stand in line for roll call
and I’m sure I’m not alone,
when my mind…it starts to wander
to the place that I call home.
To the cockies and the ‘roos
and drinkin’ with me mates
and waving to the neighbors
as they amble past the gate.
To the wattles and the gum trees
and the night star Southern Cross
and my Mum and Dad and family
and the memories never lost.
But for now that’s all behind me
as I struggle through each day,
with the sickness, heat and mossies
and the mates they send away.
I’ve said a thousand silent prayers
for the ones who won’t go back.
And I’ve said a silent prayer for me
for sores and bruises black.
When I stand in line for roll call
I’m never on me own
but I’m a bloody long way off
from the place that I call home.
THE COTTAGE (1996)
Take me to the cottage
on the side of the hill
Where all I can see is green
To the mountain side
To the waterfall
Where all I can see is green
Take me to the garden
where the rose buds bloom
And all that I smell is sweet
To the mountain side
To the forest deep
Where all I can smell is sweet
Take me to the valley
where the warm sun shines
And all that I touch is real
To the mountainside
To the riverwide
Where all that I touch is real
Take me to the highlands
Every night, every day
Where all that I feel is complete
To the mountainside
To be by your side
Where all that I feel is complete.
HIGHLANDS (1996)
The leaves are rustling in the forest deep
Waterfalls rushing to the mountain creek
The mist is rolling over the trees
Springtime in the Highlands
with a soft summer breeze
Colorful flowers with butterflies resting
High in the treetops where birds are nesting
Dewdrops have gathered over the leaves
Springtime in the Highlands
with a soft summer breeze
Insects are calling in the dead of night
Birds start their chirping, first sign of light
The sun is shining over the trees
Springtime in the highlands
with a soft summer breeze
THE BOY (1991)
I start this gentle search
without anxiety.
This quiet trek
to find the truth-reality
it takes me back to times
that will not have me feeling pain
but rather leaves the knowledge
that I was strong.
I will not take the blame.
He reaches out to me
a flower in his hand
brought quietly
from behind his back
to give the one he loves
and who loves him.
FADING ROSES (1977)
Roses slowly fade,
their beauty slips away unnoticed,
until
suddenly,
we realize the rose is gone.
Similar, my love for you.
I woke this morning
my love had passed,
Then I realized,
that, like a rose,
my love had been fading for some time……
MRS GEROME (1978)
Her hands a crippled,
but her mind is strong.
She’s all alone,
it seems so wrong.
Day after day she sits there thinking,
often she speaks, but there’s no real meaning.
Then one day, there’s no thoughts left,
and so she doesn’t speak.
Slowly her eyes close,
peacefully she goes to sleep….never to wake…..
QUESTIONS (1974)
What about the baby?,
the tiny human created out of a need for love.
A tiny human unwanted, a living soul.
What will the child think
if I give it a chance to live?
What will the know
of a life I might not give?
If I kill him now,
will he ever know
the pain his mother had,
when she had to let him go?
Have I got the right to say
this child should live or die?
And If the choice I make is wrong,
can he question why?
THE UNHAPPY LESBIAN (1988)
There she sits
in her masculinity,
trying to emulate
the power she detests.
It is not her sexual preferences
that cause me to wonder,
but rather her attitude
to us –
her likeness.
Is it pain reducing
Or maybe power inducing
to know that we are restless,
and to sense in us a fear
Or is it just her way
of saying
“Have you noticed I am here”?
TOTAL HONESTY (1980)
Remember when I held you,
a little babe so warm.
when you cried, I came and held you,
you were frightened by a storm.
I used to bath and feed you,
but that was a long time ago.
I suppose you look after yourself now,
to be honest, I don’t even know.
We’d sit and talk for hours,
such good friends we were then,
yes…remember the friendship we had,
all of a sudden it came to an end.
Well…I’m looking at you now,
and you’re looking back at me,
I can tell by your face
that you don’t like what you see.
You don’t like what you see in me,
Well, I don’t like it myself,
but that I’d only tell you….
my dolls watching from your shelf!!!
UNSURE (1976)
Is it true you like me?
Is it true you care?
Is it true I’ll find you,
if I look?
But where?
Where will I find you?
How long will it take?
And how do I know that it’s not a mistake?
How do I know that you’ll stay by my side?
How do I know that you’re not like the tide?
that comes and goes, it never stays.
or like the thief that takes,
and never pays?
REMEMBER ME (1976)
Left out in the open,
no where to run.
Remember me?
I am your son.
I did disappoint you, you wouldn’t forget.
What should I do to repay the debt.
I’m living my life
the way I choose,
You told me that
I’d always lose.
Maybe I will,
but I can still run.
And no matter what you say,
I’ll always be your son.
As mothers, we must give our male children the coping skills and nurturing that the we recieved as girls and woman. We must break out of our own protective circle which has been put in place to enforce that unspoken rule that men are 'bad'. If things are to ever change for our family, this is where it needs to begin. Julie-Anne.
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