Poetry – I Do Not Believe That!

I Do Not Believe That!

It is the way it has always been.

You cannot change it.

I don’t believe that!

We will always have the poor.

You have to look after yourself.

I don’t believe that!

Build walls to protect what we have.

Keep them out.

I don’t believe that!

Some nations are better than others.

We are better than you.

I don’t believe that!

Some people are better than others.

They deserve it.

I don’t believe that!

Some believe profit before people.

That the world is there to abuse.

I don’t believe that!


I believe we have the power to bring about change. We can control our numbers. We can stop destroying nature. We can live in harmony. We can have a prosperous global society with far greater equality, where nobody is abandoned, nobody lives in sewage, nobody is a pauper.

We have just got our values wrong.

We do put profit before people.

We do not protect nature.

We are too greedy.

Billionaires and paupers – it is not the way to live.

We can change it.

We can.



My mind is crippled

My emotions crawl

My memory limps

My psychology stalls

Shouting over the tramping of those worker ants

Standing in the shadow of these anorexic dwarves

My arguments decay into worthless rants

My best ideas become fodder for the wolves

There must be more than this

There has to be a way

That gives a sense of purpose

With something real to say

Somewhere between the mindless and the mean

Between the leaders and followers

What is and might have been

Between the sickeningly sweet and the vicious kick

Between the awesome mystery

Religion and the sick.

Somewhere between the ageing and the end

Between the discovery and death

The laws to break and mend

Between the exploiting cynic and the devotee

Between the moments that matter

And the lives of you and me.

There must be more than this

There has to be a way

That gives a sense of purpose

With something real to say

Opher 23.10.96

Poetry – I can hear them

I can hear them

I can hear them

I can feel them.

They speak to me.

With every cyclone,

Every flood,

I feel their anguish.

Not the people.

For they are the focus of attention.

They receive the aid and sympathy.

They look forlorn and hopeless.

They cry openly on camera.

They elicit the response.

The ones I hear and feel

Are the creatures

Swept aside and ignored.



As if they were of no consequence

And did not matter.

Opher 3.4.2019

Every time I see the devastation in the wake of a cyclone or flood, a bushfire or drought, I think of the poor creatures who are caught up in it.

As the poor people are gathered up, fed, sheltered and looked after there is not a single thought for the creatures who were killed, maimed and had their lives destroyed. Nobody seems to care. But I do.

Poetry – Rebirths


Life is full of rebirths –

An endless cycle

Of rebirths.

Each a new start,

A new set of opportunities,

A further set of hopes.


Each day

As the eyes open

Into a new world

And we see it again


From the oblivion.


Out of our minds.


Each year

As the world

Is born again.

Green shoots

Thrust upwards

Into the strengthening light

To brighten

The dead

Skeletal brown.

Opher 26.12.2018

Sleep is the little death from which we are reincarnated anew each and every day – refreshed and revitalized.

Is it the same universe?

Who knows?

Each morning is a rebirth – a new set of opportunities.

Each year the sun ebbs and the leaves fall. The world becomes brown and dead. Skeletal trees raise their fingers into the sky on the horizon – reaching for warmth and light.

Out of the brown soil and twigs green shoots give hope for the resurrection of life.