Sorry Jack…Time to Get Off the Road and Tread the Tarmac


Islands are havens

a sense of separation despite bridges

we invite isolation from the mainland mainstream

yet it still trickles in on exhaust fumes

pollution that stresses

with its rules, regulations, a regurgitation of show me the money

we never truly escape from


closeting ourselves in living room dramas

playing out on the screen

sitting comfortably in that huge chair

wondering what bathroom to use

when the coffee finally makes its way through

the world won’t catch us

if we don’t let it…


a pretend game…on the road without moving

from the lounge room

smelling the D U S T settling behind us

past particle paradigms we’ll never know

except from words on a page

we experience our own deception

when the mortgage payments turn the key

on the front door

locking us in


cars, shiny and clean in garages

where dust and salt spray can’t rust the underbelly

of what it was they were really built for

Ha ha…and you’ll tow that caravan

one day

with the jet ski behind it



We’re the I’ve had it pretty good and want it better generation

finding out that our apathy

has got us the Government we all deserve

tapping out their revolt in 140 characters or less

twitter feeding disgust on notes on a twitter feed trend of the moment

blog posts garnering “yeah it’s not right” comments

I’ll do something…get out there right a wrong

give a pensioner or a single mother a few dollars more

to get to the end of the week

but damn it… this chair is just so comfy…

and how will a little extra tax affect ME!!


right now I want to drive my car

to the other side of the country

with the window down and feel the wind in my hair

but my responsibility is in his bedroom getting ready for school

the world as they say…is his oyster

yet as the sea levels creep up…hottest winter on record passes into

the hottest spring…early bushfires burning down lifetimes

I wonder what I’ll let him inherit

besides I can’t afford the petrol and that’s not the rebellion that’s called for

conformity is a transition we all make… eventually

even when we pretend we haven’t

forgetting that one rebellious right we still do have

Is a vote

a say

a voice

a pen

and two feet that let us stand up and leave our islands…


Phew…she says

as she sits down in her comfy chair

and ponders which loo to use

when the coffee finally makes its way through…


Oh dear…I HOPE NOT!!!



for dverse poets meeting the bar: Beat Poetry



10 thoughts on “Sorry Jack…Time to Get Off the Road and Tread the Tarmac

  1. the world won’t catch us
    if we don’t let it…nice…but it does and we do have the govt
    we deserve for our apathy and it only gets worse…
    i hope i never get too comfy with it…

    i like the end of this..ha…

  2. This truly is dense with thought. I liked the idea of driving one’s car to the other end of the country and feeling the wind in one’s hair. How often I have wished that myself. Oh that this were a real possibility. Smiles.

  3. It’s so hard–we start out with great intentions, hoping to make a difference, a little radical, rebellious, sticking up for the underprivileged–then we slowly make our way up the ladder and become less willing to risk even a little bit. Excellent take on this, well done!

  4. ah you hit a nerve… we tend to seek adventure and change and revolution…but please don’t make me leave my comfy chair for it… we tend to live second hand.. this certain grit and social change like decorations in our living room… it’s sad…

  5. Great exploration of how we move from ideals to apathy. “We’re the I’ve had it pretty good and want it better generation” – great line! I also enjoyed the title of your poem.

  6. I will admit to making most of my ‘protests’ with my feet comfortably resting on the bar of this PC desk. I ‘sign’ petitions, write letters to my MP and other government members via comp and never have to leave the comfort of my own home.
    I think it is time I got of my fat backside and hit the tarmac!
    Anna :o]

  7. This is so modern. No fudging here – the way it is and the way we build our lives to fool ourselves. We’re so comfortable that we feel like hypocrites when we cry “foul”, but if the informed don’t cry out, then it will be too late – there will be not comforts tomorrow. Brilliant write!

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