lake cockrone
(for pam)
in the stillness before sunrise
kookaburras reclaim their selection
black swans show off arching
moorhens their tail-feather vulnerability
i am in this new day beginning
remembering our first time after midnight
two of us in the holiday house canoe
me doing the paddling you being pilot
talking coleridge wordsworth their lakes
the boundary hills moved with us
black shapes on starry surfaces
the waters only waist deep we knew
(but anyone can drown in an inch of it)
we were easy new and free careful
awake it’s twenty-eight years later
i’m listening to ocean clear as shells
your breathing slipping from our bed
and walking to the lake in that first light
microbats
quickened by the guide’s
demonstration of ‘cave-light’
(switching off everything)
as she clicks them back on
reinventing the cave’s tapestry
two microbats flit through
then almost before
their fly-past has registered
and the guide explibbeains
the marvel of their presence
they reprise the instant
flicker/gone again
our second chance
but we’re still too slow
to properly apprehend them
so where were they
during those thirty seconds
of our experiment with
absolute darkness
as it permeated
how could we know
restive in contemplation
they were amongst us
accurately-speeding
tiny flying mammals
on fast fast forward
chasing down their light
namatjira’s ute door
pride of place by the museum entrance
the first photo is dated 1947
a utility glossy black a dodge
albert in the driver’s seat faintest of smiles
window down shirt open pale sports coat
his arm on the sill above meticulous detailing
. albert namatjira
. artist
. alice springs
. tare 2.12.02
and on the side near the tray
. this vehicle
. presented
. by ampol
the photographer knelt to shoot up at albert
and because the ute is parked before a church
this has inadvertently placed the cross from its roof
onto the back of the ute’s cabin like some holy aerial
channelling albert’s trinity arrernte world
white god the colour of water
in the next room of the museum a second photo
shows a utility that’s light grey or beige perhaps
certainly not the first one faded or compromised
the lettering on this driver’s door is identical
except it says hermannsburg not alice springs
is this an older ute from before ampol’s magnanimity
or has there been some accident some trading
down
albert’s face gives away nothing only knowing
baptism initiation the finke in flood seven lean
years
a dead child unsayable art deeper than irony
in a third room another photo shows this same utility
but now it is a wreck in a dry creek bed no wheels
bonnet up stripped-trashed the door hanging open
says haast bluff but that’s not where he’s been
albert’s been staying at the pleasure of her majesty
after being recently received by her this photo’s
caption
. taken at gilbert’s crossing
. the day that namatjira died
. 8 august 1959
finally among the exhibits at the exit
stands the door itself donated to this place 1974
sill rusted where the duco wore under albert’s arm
frame bent hinges unhinged detailing
indecipherable
because it is riddled with bullet holes 67 of them
there is a sign on the wall of the museum warning
. do not make pictures
. of any kind
a hard day’s night [1]
screaming began pouring from the screen
a controlled chaos flooded the theatre
girls broke down sobbing as did usherettes
but we were not swept from our first-date seats
we sat immersed in that marvellous hysteria
and did not make a sound (i remember that for sure)
as the plot raced ahead on goonish innocence
paul’s clean uncle lonely ringo puddles
just as suddenly it was over the lights came up
we filed out silently and the earth had moved
biffo drove us home in the backseat of his FJ
your body-heat surprising our fingers curling
unhooking your front door ajar (mum coughed)
1/9d each i saved those ticket stubs for years
[1] Campbelltown Picture Show – August, 1964
the rumsfeld variations
there are those who are well
and know they are well
there are those who are well
and do not know they are well
there are those who are not well
who know they are not well
there are those who are not well
who do not know they are not well
there are those who are
neither well nor unwell
who know they are neither
well nor unwell
there are those who are neither
well nor unwell who do not know
whether or not they are well or unwell
and then there’s us
-Willem Tibben
All poems were originally published in ‘suburban veneer’ (Belgrove Press, 2017) and have been republished with the author’s permission
____________________________________________________________________________________________
Willem (Bill) Tibben came from Holland to Camden in 1954 where he grew up on dairy farms. He worked in the NSW Public Service for 43 years and retired in 2007. His first published poems were in Neucleus (University of New England’s student newspaper – 1977) and since then he has published four books: near myths (1986), the conscious moment (1996), the fascination of what’s simple (2005), and suburban veneer (2017). Willem is President of Youngstreet Poets; member of Auburn Poets and Writers’ Group; and a regular attender at Live Poets at Don Bank.
Willem Tibben: Biographical note
Danny Gardner and Maureen Ten co-launched Willem Tibben’s suburban veneer at the NSW Writers’ Centre on 22 April 2017:
Danny Gardner’s audience address
Maureen Ten’s audience address
suburban veneer is available from Belgrove Press. contact: saleswt@belgrovepress.com
