I deserve a gold star
Catching Elephant is a theme by Andy Taylor
Kids, back in 2012, your aunt Robin wanted to do something more with her life. So she took her love of guns to an organization called S.H.I.E.L.D and fought alongside the Avengers.
Now, your Uncle Barney and I took it pretty hard; she was getting to spend a lot of time with another billionaire playboy, this guy named Tony Stark. Your Uncle Barney almost went crazy when he found out the guy had a metal suit.
“It shoots fireballs, Ted! He looks like a freakin’ storm trooper!”
totally could not take her seriously throughout the entire film.
Black ANZAC
They have forgotten him, need him no more
He who fought for his land in nearly every war
Tribal fights before his country was taken by Captain Cook
Then went overseas to fight at Gallipoli and Tobruk
World War One two black Anzacs were there
France, Europe’s desert, New Guinea’s jungles, did his share
Korea, Malaya, Vietnam again black soldier enlisted
Fight for democracy was his duty he insisted
Back home went his own way not looking for praise
Like when he was a warrior in the forgotten days
Down on the Gold Coast a monument in the Bora Ring
Recognition at last his praises they are starting to sing
This black soldier who never marches on ANZAC Day
Living in his Gunya doesn’t have much to say
Thinks of his friends who fought some returned some died
If only one day they could march together side by side
His medals he keeps hidden away from prying eyes
No one knows, no one sees the tears in his old black eyes
He’s been outcast just left by himself to die
Recognition at last black ANZAC hold your head high
Every year at Gold Coast’s Yegumbah Bora Ring site
Black ANZAC in uniform and medals a magnificent sight
The rock with Aboriginal tribal totems paintings inset
The Kombumerri people’s inscription of LEST WE FORGET
-Cecil Fisher
I like the word ‘fleeting’. It’s so sincere and subtle,
so innocent and genuine,
but it can describe the most dire of situations.
Fleeting: Passing quickly; ephemeral.
It’s like a stone skimming across a silent, sluggish lake,
only to crash into a building and watch it crumble to the ground.
Is that not the perfect description for life?
The world never ceases to exist,
and it exists for us so long as we can experience it.
Or does it?
We exist for a short period of time before we die.
My life is fleeting.
My existence is fleeting.
Is the world fleeting?
Will the world cease to exist when I do?
I’ll never know. Nor will you.
