	More poetry from Dan Byrnes	1000 poems by Dan Byrnes An updated/recompiled presentation of Poetry - some rewritten in minor ways Not yet all of poetry by Dan Byrnes but growing - Move on in series here for: Poems from No. 600 to 700 Move on in backwards series here for: Poems from No. 500 to 600
	For your information ... Dan Byrnes, born 1948, has been writing poetry since his late teens and is now aged 74. He has had relatively few poems published in Australia but those published are so marked. A few of his poems have been published in USA and are so marked. He decided a few years previous to 2018, why not try to leave behind 1000 poems? A round 1000? One result is this presentation of poetry. Enjoy. - Ed

This file is for poems No. 700 to 800 (Written between 1999 and 2011
This page updated 2 May, 2023

Poem800 - On re-reading Robert Frost

(Thirty-odd years later)

I've rarely if ever lived in a house I fully controlled,
and I've never had strong feelings about owning land,
or even about having enough money to be rolled for,
(or not), and I apologise it's been so long
since I've gotten back to you,
nothing personal and no offence intended.
Things have happened and life here has been wry.
I moved about and you stayed put.
But I never once thought you ever pretended
anything, not a thing, right down to an individual autumn leaf
and its career, and like you I still hear the echo
of promises made versus the contending need for sleep.
Here's a recent thought I had.
Without people like you, poets and such,
humanity would be much less glad
about its mysteries, and then some,
as and when they weep.

:::::::::::::::(Ends):::::::::::::

Poem791: Death of a Good Man. (For Uncle Roy Musgrave)

Poem792: Anonymous Australian Protest on Excessive Australian TV coverage of Actual Non-events, variety Royal (by Dan Byrnes)

Poem793: empty or The Wreck of Captain Fiddling´s HMAS Parallel Universe (published in Armidale Express).

Poem794: (being renumbered?) The Wreck of HMAS Parallel Universe or empty ...

Poem 794

The Wreck of HMAS Parallel Universe

Poem795: and 794? being renumbered? Old Codgers and Computers, or, empty

Poem796: (and 807) Idle Curiosity, or The Young Know Much (for Scott Hall), or The Finding (on turning age 60)

Poem797: (and 806) Loads of Remembered Beauty or Tears from Music (for Gurrumul, unfinished) or
Poem re Prince Charles

Poem798: and 805 Agnostic Attitude or Death of a Good Man (for my uncle, Roy Musgrave) or Old Codgers and Coffin Dodgers (being renumbered?)

Poem799: Upon my sister turning 60 or, How do you say it?

In 2008 I turned 60.

Quite a watershed. I thought it had come time to rethink any ideas of working on a personal website. What to do? Meantime, I wrote the poem below.

Poem 800,

Upon my sister turning 60 (or, How do You Say It)

Upon my sister turning 60

(Poem 799 on 15-11-2009, draft 3, written as the sun comes up)

Upon my sister turning 60,
and upon my soul,
I recall how I turned 60.
Luckily, without incident.
It's like finding a great flat plateau
with not a lot new to look at.
The water is fresh, the animals and the breezes are slow,
the grass is green enough for the cattle we inherited,
and neither of us sings hymns anymore
of any particular description.

We shared a childhood, then life
shared us out into busyness that seemed important,
until surprise ebbed, or mercy gasped with disbelief,
or The Veils of Maya lifted,
the climate shifted.
Conclusions drifted,
because the feeling grows
that life is more gifted
than we can ever unwrap.
And then what?

It's all in how you look at it,
read a book at it, find a nook,
eat what you cook
for yourself,
and discover that God is a skyhook.

You don't and anyway can't tell anyone the secrets,
because each secret reshapes itself a little overnight
as it bellyflops into the past to escape you once again,
and you wake and wonder if sleep is practice for death,
or if death is practice for another very long dream.
If the sunrise is better than usual,
that could be quite enough versus the evils of the day.

The earth turns, but it doesn't exactly go anywhere,
nor does it seem to care about that,
it's just involved in turning,
yearning for more turning,
yearning and turning, yearning and turning ...

Maybe we ended up in entirely free space?
I don't know.
Just that it doesn't feel so expensive anymore,
and here, there's much less wear and tear.

Poem 791 - item to come

Poem 793

empty or The Wreck of Captain Fiddling's - copy to come

Poem 792

Anonymous Australian Protest on Excessive Australian TV Coverage of Actual Non-events, variety Royal (by Dan Byrnes) - Poem 792 of 9-4-2005.

(Notes taken on 9 April 2005 on the occasion of the second proper marriage of the so-called future King of Australia. Bah humbug, and so on. Draft 3)

As love affairs go, it's about bloody time, and then it's not;
as if we really care here in Australia ...
The TV tells us she'll wear wellies
if the ground and the weather dictate(s) ...
Well, what proper horse-yard and farm girl wouldn't? And,
if we're feeling royalist here, which we aren't,
we're feeling rather late middle-aged, and, like you, we have got the rot
of life under our skin, and in line with the failure
of our economy, and what to do about the Kellys,
we really do wonder about the interest rate!
But if we can give you a hand
of minor congratulation here,
can we also, on into the future, avant-garde,
hope that the lady's current smile
will simply give you an extra mile of common sense ...
And from these bounties of your wellie-wearing beau,
how soon can we please be free of you
and your drastically-outdated, post-Imperial show?

Poem 791

empty, or, Death of a Good Man

More to come

Poem 790

Poem 798

Death of a Good Man (for my uncle, Roy Musgrave)

Poem of 4 June 2006, draft II-III-IV-V of 5-6-2006, Draft VI of 6-6-2006

Death of a Good Man

(For Roy Musgrave, died 2006, aged 92, my uncle)
After they took the trams out of Sydney,
amid the transparency of reality,
he took more to fishing,
catching them out of the Pacific Ocean,
giving them to those nearest on the day.
Less to do with the rest of his life,
or even his other friends,
more a way of seeing the universe being, close-up;
he liked it, except when out in a little boat,
avoiding lightning strike.

He had attitudes
the size of politics in Australia,
a due sense of city,
a way of not-getting washed off rocks
when fish were filled with revenge,
or when a storm was coming or going.

After his sons became fathers,
he retired up the coast
and moved on
to doing more wading,
going out getting prawns,
or watching his wife paint strong landscape,
before her kind mind wavered,
and strolled on out into the mist.
And, after the several warning deaths of those close by,
he was last seen walking, or just standing alone,
dreamed-on with the wisdom of his now-silent
(and now, maybe-neglected) garden,
wearing the smiles of his children...

and their children too.

(Ends)

Poem 798

More to come

Poem792: Anonymous Australian Protest on Excessive Australian TV coverage of Actual Non-events, variety Royal (by Dan Byrnes)

Poem793: empty or The Wreck of Captain Fiddling´s HMAS Parallel Universe (published in Armidale Express).

Poem794: (being renumbered?) The Wreck of HMAS Parallel Universe or empty,

Poem795: and 794? being renumbered? Old Codgers and Computers, or, empty

Poem796: (and 807) Idle Curiosity, or The Young Know Much (for Scott Hall), or The Finding (on turning age 60)

Poem797: (and 806) Loads of Remembered Beauty or Tears from Music (for Gurrumul, unfinished) or
Poem re Prince Charles

Poem798: and 805 Agnostic Attitude or Death of a Good Man (for my uncle, Roy Musgrave) or Old Codgers and Coffin Dodgers (being renumbered?)

Poem 797

Poem 796

Poem 795

Poem 794

Poem 792

Poem 791

Poem 790

Poem 789

Poem 788

Poem 787

Poem 786

Poem 785

Poem 784

Poem 783

Poem 782

Poem 781

Levee breaks on debt ceiling

(The USA Congress on TV news - night of 1 August 2011)

I was watching rocks ignite
at the volcano.
Just funnin*, just sayin* ...

Washington politics,
and them Republicans stormed out of the debate,
and they done gone off prayin*.

The dollar! The dollar! Mammon calls.
The Empire moves in, protective,
like the heart of darkness, brayin*

The foreigners plead, how could you do any of this
to yourselves, let alone us?
While the dogs of war are bayin*?

The Existential American said,
Who are you? Where are you? And where is the volcano?
No one here but us good old boys, layin*

down the law a bit more.
In God We Trust as we kiss rattlesnakes, swim in lava, and you betcha,
the devil you know is in the payin*.

Ain*t no way we gonna pay anything out!
We am that We am. Here*s the list of demands.
We ain*t decayin*,
and our imagination is our redoubt.

* Software problem

Poem 780

Poem 779

Poem 778

Poem 777

Poem 776

Poem 775

Poem 774

Poem 773

Poem 772

Poem 771

Poem 770

Poem 769

Poem 768

Poem 767

Poem 766

Poem 765

Poem 764

Poem763: empty, and on computer listings, all the rest of numbers to 793 seem to be empty or not done at all, lost citations, so need to check holdings in the archives.

Poem762: 762a and 762d, At least one of the US Astronauts: or, The parlous state of the USA, 2005.

Poem 762

The Parlous State of the USA.

Poem761: empty or not done? lost citation?

Poem760: empty/lost citation?

Poem759: Cracktooth (Published in one of the last ever issues of New England Review)

Poem758: what my widowed mother did

Poem757: Quiet as Wool (At Boorowa, April 2002)

Poem 756: This town I live in

Poem 755: The Astrologer's Doubt

Poem754: Poets are supposed to have a strong sense of the frailty of life (for Peter Reith)

Poem753: Grief (death is so severe) Written after my mother unexpectedly died aged 83, 31 July 2000)

Poem752: Armidale NSW (Year 2000)

Poem759: Cracktooth (Published in one of the last ever issues of New England Review)

Poem760: empty/lost citation?

Poem761: empty or not done? lost citation?

Poem762: 762a and 762d, At least one of the US Astronauts: or, the parlous state of the USA, 2005.

Poem763: empty, and on computer listings, all the rest of numbers to 793 seem to be empty or not done at all, lost citations, so need to check holdings in the archives.

Poem764:

Poem751: Notice to Big Men in Government, etc, from poets

Poem750: High over North Brother Mountain (hang-gliding at Laurieton, NSW, Christmas 1999)

Poem 749 - Sweat and Sex

Poem748: Kosovo (on the Serbian side) 1999 sent from 5-4-1999 to Thom, distributed in US, comes to attention of Rod Stryker/Sun Poets and Stazja McFayden.

Poem747: The Australian Treasurer Speaks to the Nation on St Valentine’s Day, 1999

Poem746: High Praise (for an editor)

Poem 745: She’s going away

Poem 744: On being really brilliant

Poem 743: Crows on the roof

The Astrologer's Doubt

Poem 754

Poets are supposed to have a strong sense of the frailty of life (for Peter Reith)

Poem 753

Grief (death is so severe)

Poem 752

Armidale NSW (Year 2000))

Poem 751

Notice to Big Men in Government, etc, from poets

Poem 750

High Over North Brother Mountain (hang gliding at Laurieton, NSW, Christmas 1999)

Poem 749

Sweat and Sex

Poem 748

Kosovo (On the Serbian side)

Poem 747

The Australian Treasurer speaks to the natioan on St Valentine's Day, 1999

Poem 746

Poem 745

Poem 744 - On being really Brillaint (for Kerri from New Zealand, who really had no part in this at all)

Poem 743 - Crows on the Roof

Poem 742 - Notes for political satirists

Poem 741 - the reptiles of midnight

Poem 740 - Comparing the colours of sunsets

Poem 739 - and when it is printed

Poem 738

Poem 737

Poem 736 - Diddums

Poem 735

Poem 734

the floating life of a woman> (disguise it with)

Poem 733

wild as she is -

Poem 732 - Love affair- scene five

Poem 731 - Calm

Poem 730 - Goodnight kiss

Poem 729

Poem 728

Poem 727

(poem 727 6-7-1994 draft 3-4) The reason why Australiam women remain acutely suspicious of compliments *On not being in love with anyone, again” would be a good title if this was a poem, not a letter. It’s just that I’m too lazy to get to know you. I care, but not enough. I’ve been thorough this sort of thing before. I say “I” too often. I know, damn it. Damn a lot of things. But not the lithe movement of your soul in your eyes That’s wonderful to watch. Though you didn’t hear me mention it because I didn’t say it. (because I was breathtaken). That cloak you wear is almost spectacular. But you know ... seeming casualness can’t always be trusted. Or, do you? If I lean across and kiss you, maybe for a long time, you’ll know what happened, I decided to get to work. Now, take off your cloak, I want to see the lithe movement of your soul in your body, I just hope you’re not lazy. Sorry if this is an overly offbeat way of putting it. Yours faithfully …. / ends/

poem 720

Poem 725

Poem 724

Poem 723

Poem 722

Poem 721

Poem 720

Poem 719

Poem 718

Poem 717

Poem 716

Poem 715

Poem 714

Poem 713

Poem 712

Poem 711

Poem 710

Poem 709

Poem 708

Poem 707

Poem 706

Poem 705

Poem 704

Poem 703

Poem 702

Poem 701 - Only because there is no earthquake

Poem 700

Cruising The Gulf of Mexico

By Dan Byrnes Poem 802 (draft 2 of 13-6-2010)

Cruising The Gulf of Mexico

(a bad dream of a digital picture taken in mid-2010)

I travel a lot in my mind
and today I see
the Gulf of Mexico is broken.
It collided with the hubris
of the United States of America
and it may well be in traction
for another fifty years.

The fish will die,
the birds will seep oil and die,
the remorse of the USA,
the weeping and gnashing of, yes,
mostly-Christian teeth,
will be surfed on the Internet
for the same half-a-century or more.

The oil men sank too deep,
deeper than anyone can safely go,
hit the bottom of the Gulf,
and it broke, just like that.
Far worse than when the levee broke,
far worse than if the Mississippi floods,
far worse than when the music died.
About as bad as the hard rain
would have been falling
the day Cuba almost disappeared
in a haze of nuclear wipeout
... which at least would have been quite quick.

Not like this abysmal, slow and seeping, creeping
crack in the ocean floor that will spill oil
where oil shouldn't be,
where oilmen should not be.
Where oil ambition went far too far.

The Gulf of Mexico broke, and that's that.
The people moved from the coast
after their second, huge and real-world disappointment in a decade,
their lives and souls lost along with the ruined fish catches
in the surf of a modern madness
as super-techo as a brand-new Hollywood movie,
but far more deadly than it looks when it's actually real.

The Gulf of Mexico broke.
Already I begin to think of this whenever
I see someone start a car.
If this modern madness doesn't stop,
I suppose this will happen
to another great body of water
somewhere in the world,
once great, once proudly wet and rolling free,
and only wet, but now oiled-up
with nowhere left to go,
miserable as a fish dumped in a bathtub
full of anti-freeze
some madman left on a beach.

I'm sorry, but now I have to move on.
It's a wide world, there's still a lot left to see,
and this will only make us cry,
and not stop crying.
See, there's the top of the Andes.
And over there is yet another melting glacier ...
Do you, perhaps as I do ...

Ends)

Poem799: Upon my sister turning 60 or, How do you say it?

Poem800: On re-reading Robert Frost

Poem801: Poetry: the making of the DVD (for Paul Anglin)

Poem802: Cruising the Gulf of Mexico (a bad dream of a digital picture taken in mid-2010)

Poem803: Not in anywhere

Poem804: Brisbane notes (flood poem)

Poem805: The Man Who Never Got It

Poem806: and 797 Loads of Remembered Beauty or Levee Breaks on Debt Ceiling

Poem807: (and 796) Idle Curiosity or The Man Who Never Got It

Poem808: Brief Poem

Poem809: empty

Poem810: Breakfast with the Clouds (for Joel and Jocelyn)

Poem811: The Man Who Never Got It, or Brief Poem (see 808 above)

Poem812: Old Codgers and Computers

Poem813: Peace (for my son)

Poem814: The Finding (on turning age 60)

Poem815: Idle Curiosity

Poem816: The Young Know Much (for Scott Hall)

Poem817: Agnostic attitude

Poem 818: Old Codgers and Coffin Dodgers (unfinished)

Poem819: also 799 is How do you say it?

Poem820: Tears from Music (for Gurrumul, unfinished)

Poem822: Fresh as an old man of 16-5-2012.

Poem821: Lament for Australian Labor Party.

Poem823:

Poem824:

Poem825:

Unnumbered - Poem re John Fields

Song titles below:

115: The Savage Timer: set to music by Gerry Patterson, 1980-ish.

261: the breaking melody (song, set to music by Gerry Patterson)*

262: sage's song

265: Arthur's Sphere (song lyric set to music by Gerry Patterson)*

269: Life Goes On. (song) set to music by Gerry Patterson.

270: lady summer turns away (song*)

283: Sage's song

284: Hard Bitten Love Song (song)

313: after The Swan of Tuonela (set to music by Gerry Patterson)*

328: Rapture Of The Deep: set to music by Gerry Patterson.*

385: Jenny (song - music - Byrnes)

386: Tell My Friends (song)

387: Somewhere Along The Line (song)

405: The Gentle Touch (song for Melinda Marcellos)

406: Another Cowboy Lost in the Simpson Desert (song)*

409: Break Down (song)*;

412: Old Tim Matthews (song) Set to music by Gerry Patterson.

413: Follow the Rivers (song)

414: Travellin' Woman (song)

415: Life Goes On (song, set to music by Gerry Patterson)

416: The Breaking Melody (song, set to music by Gerry Patterson)

417: Goodbye Australia (song)*

418: Sage's Song (song)419: Hard Times cafe (song) Set to music by Gerry Patterson.420: Everyman (song)*

421: Mystery (song) Set to music by Michael Kiely, Gerry Patterson.

422: It's Been So Long (song)

424: Black Tracker (Such is life Ned Kelly) song

426: Early Sydney Jazzman Blues (song) Set to music by Gerry Patterson.

428: Arthur's Sphere (song) Set to music by Gerry Patterson.

*City Love (song) Words and Music by Byrnes. send to Juanita.

Poem706 empty entry to date

Poem707 *Back in Town (song) as 431. Words and Music by Byrnes.

Poem708 *Local Girl (song) Words and Music by Byrnes.

Poem709 Tell my Friends (song) no 386 earlier - Words and Music by Byrnes. Send to Wanita.

Poem710 *I never could before (song) Words and Music by Byrnes.

Poem711 *White Wine (song) Words and music by Byrnes. Copy to Lee Britten.

Poem712 * Travellin' Woman (Song) Words and Music by Byrnes. send to Wanita. Copy to Lee Britten.

Poem713 *Wedgetail (song) Words and Music by Byrnes

Poem714 * Gail (We've Got A Drought On Here). (song) words and music by Byrnes. Copy to Lee Britten.

*Poem 715 - The secret night life of bush poets in Australia. Published in New England Review 1993.

Poem716 - A New Found Pride in the 90s

Poem715 - How bush poets behave in Australia

will become Poem 718 - Boris Yeltsin (October 1993). Given to Anne Edgecomb in Jan 1994 and aired on radio in Canberra in 1994.

Poem719 - And every other question

Poem720 - This particular day

Poem721 - Lying Politicians

Poem722 - This is not a serious poem entitled ANY AUSTRALIAN UNIVERSITY IN 1994

Poem 723: Abseiling with a rope of cliches

Poem 724: You go away from art : emailed to Sunpoets in US on 11-4-1999 as submission to print

Poem725: by custom and usage

Poem726: ode to the god of the unfinished road

Poem727: reasons why australian women are acutely suspicious of compliments

Poem728: How are you?

Poem729: English as a second language

Poem730: goodnight kiss

Poem731: Calm

Poem732: love affair: scene 5

Poem 733: wild as she is

Poem734: the floating life of a woman (1)

Poem735: the floating life of a woman (2) emailed to Sunpoets in US on 11-4-1999 as submission

Poem736: Diddums (Helen Demidenko)

Poem737: Lover's Quarrel

Poem 738: The Long Tribunal: The People vs The Muse (a court reporter’s view)

Poem739: and when it is printed [poem on ‘chaos theory’]

Poem740: Comparing the colors of sunsets : emailed to Sunpoets on 11-4-1999 for submission to print.

Poem741: The Reptiles of Midnight

Poem742: Notes for Political Satirists

Poem 743: Crows on the roof

Poem744: On being really brilliant

Poem745: She’s going away

Poem746: High Praise (for an editor)

Poem747: The Australian Treasurer Speaks to the Nation on St Valentine’s Day, 1999

Poem748: Kosovo (on the Serbian side) 1999 sent from 5-4-1999 to Thom, distributed in US, comes to attention of Rod Stryker/Sun Poets and Stazja McFayden.

Poem749: Sweat and Sex

Poem750: High over North Brother Mountain (hang-gliding at Laurieton, NSW, Christmas 1999)

Poem751: Notice to Big Men in Government, etc, from poets

Poem752: Armidale NSW (Year 2000)

Poem753: Grief (death is so severe) After my mother unexpectedly died aged 83, 31 July 2000)

Poem754: Poets are supposed to have a strong sense of the frailty of life (for Peter Reith)

var sc_project=1134392; var src_invisible=0; var sc_invisible=0; var sc_partition=10; var sc_security="a98b49e4";

View these domain stats begun 18 December 2005