Robert Raftery

Australia's Picture Writer

Category: Humanity

AIDS… Infectious… Keep Clear

By the mellowing swards of the hospital wards, in a wing of the children’s floor,
You’ll find no blooms in the caring rooms, detached from the mainstream’s core.
For smiles are rare for those stationed there, their cries are tepid and thin.
The tiny tots there, from their crimson cots share a world that is shrouded and grim.
And all that they know is the ebb and the flow of the muslin masked mentors that peer,
While their pink stickers quote, the deadly last note of
“AIDS…INFECTIOUS…KEEP CLEAR”.

“It’s our baby who’s dying”, the fathers are crying. The mothers are strangled with grief.
And some come in nameless, abandoned and blameless, conscripted to life rendered brief.
And the reaper that waits them is taut as he takes them and shies from the bright, blazing rod,
Of the angel that bids the world’s loneliest kids, to the all-loving arms of their God.
And a sad little teddy sits patient and ready, his face is set pallid and drear.
Been rejected of late by that same little mate with
“AIDS…INFECTIOUS…KEEP CLEAR”.

Was it nature or God who turned the first sod to extract this enforced retribution?
Some reason as ‘clear’, and venture to sneer, “It’s the gays’ and the molls’ contribution.”
All mankind will cringe at this terrible binge and the toll that will cause us to dread it.
And Christ help the one – the daughter or son – who knowingly options to spread it.
And some time tonight you might wake in a fright at the sight of life’s great Overseer
As He touches the face of the whole human race … and writes
“AIDS…INFECTIOUS…KEEP CLEAR”.

There’s a lesson to learn at this century’s turn, for the warnings are posted and clear -
We must sever the need for the lust and the greed and work on the want and the fear,
To unredden the rags of the old battle flags and slit the red jug’lar of war.
We’re as much to blame, for this trans-global shame, as the dealer, the gay or the whore.
And some time if we ready, the eyes of a teddy will not see the pain or the tear
On the face of a tot or a sign on his cot that says,
“AIDS… INFECTIOUS… KEEP CLEAR”.

Robert Raftery ©

The Stone Walls of Windsor are Wailing Tonight

The Stone Walls of Windsor are Wailing Tonight,
The presses are dealing with death as they write.
While two little Princes were woken from bed
And told that their mother, the Princess was dead.
Our star ship’s lost steering and its main guiding light,
The Stone Walls of Windsor are Wailing Tonight.

The fairytale Princess with a yearning to teach,
With the commoner’s touch, not a “Royal” out of reach.
And now in a casket her body has come,
Draped in a flag to a “rum-a-tum-tum”,
The renegade royal with no need for a throne,
For the whole world has given her one of her own.

And slow the gun carriage moves on past St. Paul’s,
The planets at anchor around its great walls.
The Thames threads in silence the sad hearts of men.
There’s a tear in the eye on the face of “Big Ben”.
To her slipper of crystal the palace would ring,
Through her lyric of love she would teach it to sing.

In death joins immortals like Monroe and Dean,
For the commoners crowned her at heart as their Queen.
And all the dead Poets and all the dead kings
Who have written of love, and have ruled worldly things,
Through all of their empires where suns never set,
Will worship a Princess we’ll never forget.

Now walking behind her are five men in black,
Wishing to Christ they could turn the night back.
In step and in mourning this vice regal wing,
A Duke and two Princes, a brother, a King?
And on through old London, the horses’ hooves carry,
As a billion arms ache to hold William and Harry.

“The Stone Walls of Windsor are Wailing Tonight”,
Our Princess Diana has left in the night.
The candlelight’s fading on Elton’s sad song,
Her beauty surrounds us … can’t believe that she’s gone.
But she’s left us clear searchlights in twin vaulted joys,
The flash of her eyes … in her two little boys.

Robert Raftery ©

Let’s Give The Fear The Flick

Seven Sunrise… The Canberra Accord

There are those who’d like to shut us down… and crush our way of life,
They’d like to siphon off that spirit… that we’ve forged through times of strife.
The things we’ve loved and nurtured, for from the very start,
We were built from a part of every race… that’s why we’re a race apart.

We’ve assembled like an anthem in one big, sharp, national prick,
To puncture terror’s bubble, and Give the Fear the Flick.

We’ve all had a guzzler’s gutful, of all this terror talk,
And I reckon it’s time to settle down, and give the fear… the fork,
Just suck it in… the majesty, as the Maker had intended,
Let’s refocus the fear, and re-engineer… the Banjo’s “Vision Splendid”.

See… our Nation’s never learned to beg, to fetch, or stay, or sit,
And there’s invincible Aussie armour tucked inside our terror kit,
Let’s ensure we bring our searchlights, to bear on the fringe minority,
But adjust the score… when the sirens roar… from the ranks of the silent majority.

Now just take a look around you… let these mansions fill your eyes,
If paradise was put on earth… this place Australia would take first prize,
We’ve forged a global example, of optimism’s glue,
The glue that welds us together… and together… we’ll see this through.

So let’s keep the billies boiling, ‘cross this great Southland we share,
And let’s put our hearts in the kitbags of our soldiers… when they’re “Over There”,
For sacrifice… is sometimes the price… for… “Beauty Rich and Rare”,
So stuff the strife, let’s just log onto life… As we Advance Australia Fair.

Robert Raftery©

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