•January 31, 2016 • 2 Comments

dead mans beach

Sand-Dunes & their Ways


I was day-dreaming about Sand-dunes

and their sly, purposeful, creeping ways,

as I stood in the shallows of Deadmans Beach

midst the swell and swirl of gently breaking waves.

sandune and grass

“What does a Sand-dune want?” I wondered,

as I felt the small Sand-bar beneath me

restlessly shifting in the shallows.

Playful as an overgrown puppy,

first it quickly tries

to eat my feet, shlurping and shlupping

around the ankles, but I pull my feet free with a plop!

But then it soon gets bored and swiftly

sifts away to somewhere else,

chasing the other Sand-bars

down the length of the beach.

sandune and grass

Sand-dunes are of course, Alive,

like Mist and Trees

and, like us,

pursue interests of their own.

sandune and grass

Mostly, I decided

they just want to swallow things whole,

horde them like a miser in their hidden depths,

suck and strip the flesh from the bones

and leave them white and shiny.

Broken bottles they collect as well,

polish and sand the jagged shards

into smooth and subtle gemstones

aglow with mysterious fire.

sandune and grass

Sometimes they will display

their Treasures in the Sun;

the whitened bones,

the old coins bearing

nameless, faceless kings,

the polished glass like jewels.

sandune and grass

Coyly then the dunes

will show their prize,

like a shy child

offering you a gift,

half hidden in their hand.


sand-dune 2 coloured


squarey on holiday


reverend profile red

The Reverend Hellfire is a practised Performance Poet,

President of the Kurilpa Institute of Creativity Inc.,

and an ordained Minister of the Church of Spiritual Humanism 

and the Church of the Universe.

Impressed yet?


Australia/Invasion/Survival day Holiday Notice

•January 26, 2016 • Leave a Comment

rev by the sea


The Reverend Hellfire is on holiday, wandering the Wilderness.

Sunday Sermons will resume next Sunday.

Meantimes the Reverend refers Friends and Followers

to his classic Australia/Invasion/Survival day Screed,

“The Land”

Lest we Forget.

Squarey is also on holiday

and was last seen approximately 500 yards offshore,

travelling at 4 knots an hour in a southerly moving current.

Holiday car jpig



•January 17, 2016 • 2 Comments Frank McLeod

I Saw the Rainbow Serpent Dancing


Looking backwards as the barge

departed Dunwich jetty,

I saw the Rainbow Serpent had awoken

and arched his ancient, banded back

low over Minjerribah’s khaki hills.


Awakened by a passing shower,

shimmering in his glistening scales,

Kabul the Sacred Serpent hitched a ride

and followed us all the way

across the waters of Quandamooka Bay.

Keeping pace with the vessel

as if in play

as the dolphins sometimes do.


For twenty minutes or more

we watched entranced

as the Sacred Serpent danced

and then, as the barge approached

and put in to the mainlands shore,

Kabul reversed

and swiftly retreated

to Minjerribah once more,

hovered in the sea-mist a moment,

then shivered and faded into the sky.


Talk not to me of tricks-of-the-light,


or optical illusions!

It was a magic moment

when old Kabul bid me Farewell,

and I saw the Rainbow Serpent

dancing over Quandamooka’s waters.


kabul by oodgeroo noonuccal


fok tales


reverend profile red

The Reverend Hellfire is a blue collar worker, a practising Performance Poet, President of the Kurilpa Institute of Creativity

and an ordained Minister of the Church of the Universe and the Church of Spiritual Humanism.

Has his good points.



•January 10, 2016 • 13 Comments

trees at sunset

The Man Who Couldn’t See Trees


There’s a Plague on, my Friends,

oh a Ghastly Disease,

that threatens to bring

the whole World to its knees!

Dont Panic! Don’t Laugh!

This isn’t a Tease,

there are People, I’ve learned,

who cannot see Trees!


My Neighbour, it seems,

is alas one of these,

try as he might

he just can’t see Trees.

Like Mister Magoo,

the man’s a blind Fool,

all he can see

are leaves in the pool,

and gutters he also sees

chock full of leaves,

and pollen that aggravates

his Allergies.


He can see in the Future

branches that fall

to crush cars and children

and that is not all!

With his X-ray vision

he sees roots in the drains,

and undermining the foundations

of his suburban domain.

He sees poisonous berries

that splatter and stain,

but there’s still the one blind spot

that flaw in his brain;

he can’t recognise Trees

in any terrain.


Take him out to the Forest,

the problem remains,

he may as well be

in some vast, empty plane.

Surround him with Trees!

The answer is still,

he can’t see the wood

for the Papermill.

He sees chipboard and paper

and plywood as well,

but he can’t see the tree stumps

that line the Highway to Hell.


Put him in a garden,

some green Sylvan glade,

he’ll just bitch about spiders

that lurk in the shade.

Mighty Redwoods before him

that glisten with the dew?

He’d only bemoan

that there wasn’t “a View”.


So go laugh at those men

blind to Trees but not Money,

till we run out of Oxygen,

then it won’t seem so funny.

owl babies on tree at sunset

The Cat in the Hat shows the way forward

The Cat in the Hat shows the way forward


joy joy


reverend profile red

The Reverend Hellfire is a practised Performance Poet,

President of the Kurilpa Institute of Creativity Inc.,

and an ordained Minister of the Church of the Universe AND

the Church of Spiritual Humanism.

He also desperately needs a new car. Well..newer at least.


Tales from the Compost Heap; MIDNIGHT COMMOTIONS

•January 3, 2016 • 7 Comments


Introduction; This Year Zero

Welcome back, dear Followers & Friends, to

 Sunday Sermons for 2016

but before I commence today’s Sermon proper, a short announcement that the Reverend intends to devote more of his energies this year speaking out on “Environmental Issues” and no doubt this will be reflected in the content on this page.

The Reverend believes we stand on the edge of a precipice

of World-wide Total Environmental Collapse

and all we need to do to get there is what we’re doing now.

Overcoming his native pessimism the Reverend avows,

“It’s This Year Zero time, kiddies. We must each do what we can

to save something from Today’s greed

to preserve for a better Future.”


Raven in egg

Tales from the Compost Heap; MIDNIGHT COMMOTIONS


The peaceful repose of the Compost Heap was disturbed

the other night, some time around Midnight,

by the most god-awful commotion

coming from the big “Ghost Gum” tree out the front.

Upon investigating it soon became clear that, despite usually being a daytime bird, a stray Sulphur-Crested Cockatoo

had migrated at Midnight from where-ever it had previously

been perched, and had decided that the afore-mentioned Gum Tree would make a suitable emergency shelter

for the night.


Alas, the tree in question is the local “Crow Tree”.

Yes, the neighbourhood Torresian Crows colonised it long ago and have ever since determined

 on maintaining it as their exclusive domain.

There’s usually a couple of nesting couples and their young in residence, and at first I thought it might have been

 a predatory Owl conducting a raid on the nests.

But it was just a case of “walking through the wrong door” and judging from the indignant cacophony raised that night it sounded as though the unfortunate, night-blind Cockatoo had landed right in the middle of the Nursery.

"Oh god what a night!"

“Oh god what a night!”

Talk about screaming “bloody blue Murder”! Sulphur crested Cockatoos have a voice that sounds like screeching corrugated iron at the best of times, but this hellish sound! The intruding bird did indeed scream like it was being brutally murdered, as the angry parents CRARRKed and flapped furiously and the foliage swayed, bits of stick and nest falling down all the while, whilst

every crow and dog in the neighbourhood

voiced their own opinion.

As soon as it could the flustered Cockatoo made an escape,

erupting out of the foliage like a rocket. Unfortunately,

night-blind and panicky, he made a giant soaring loop

and ended up landing in the same tree!

Chaos quickly resumes. The bird makes another escape, looking quite bedraggled by now, and manages to find Sanctuary in the tall Gum Tree down the back, the traditional home to the local Bush Turkey tribe. They just kept their heads down and said nothing.

The same could not be said for the crows. Upset and annoyed by the whole “unpleasant incident” they continued complaining about it for hours. They were unhappy and wanted everyone to know.

The crows don't really approve of anyone using their tree

The crows don’t really approve of anyone using their tree

Sometime before dawn the neighbourhood finally quietened down and everyone went to sleep.

The next day, the broken branches and leaves scattered on the road beneath the nests (the litter and detritus of war) told the story of the night’s epic battle.

Crow babies are ALWAYS hungry.

Crow babies are ALWAYS hungry.

Two nights later, sometime before dawn, in the last dark quarter of the night, when there is no Moon and the Sun has yet to hint of it’s possible return, a mass migration of parrots occurs.

Restless in the humid night, the Reverend hears a distant pandemonium in the distance getting rapidly louder.

Seconds later a dark, chattering cloud is racing across the sky above. It’s a huge flock, much bigger than the daytime flocks you

generally see. Or does it just seem bigger because it’s night-time and it’s so strange to this this day-time party bird moving like this after Sunset?

It’s not like they’re just hopping from one tree to another, it’s like they’ve got somewhere in mind they want to be. As quickly as the swarm appeared it vanished, the mad chattering of parrots fading away in the stillness of the night.

budgie swarm

What means these mad Midnight migrations and commotions

at the Summer Solstice, as the year turns in its wheel

around the Sun?

What do they betoken, oh Reader ? These dark flights of day-time Avian species? Has some bastard been secretly cutting down nesting trees at night in the name of sly and inevitable Progress? (More trees than usual that is) Is the Natural Order overturned?

Or are there just too many city lights,

disrupting Avian sleep patterns?

artist Marc Hempel colourist: Daniel Vozzo from "The Kindly Ones" p5

One of the Reverend’s Sacred Duties is of course to interpret the Auguries. That is, to study the movements of birds and beasts

and interpret their symbolic meaning, divine them as messages from the Spirit World and deliver them to their community. The Art of Augury was much esteemed in the Ancient World, and naturally every self-respecting Shaman practised its disciplines constantly,

seeking to understand the Great Patterns.

The Reverend Hellfire has therefore consulted both the Tibetan and the Roman systems of Augury and presents the following interpretation of these Midnight Migrations;


“WE have been sleeping. We are about to be woken. No-one will be able to hide safely in their home and pretend

that the momentous movements & events that are occurring

in the World today will not affect them.”


Scoffers should consider the cautionary tale of the Roman Admiral, Claudius Pucher, who once disregarded the advice of the Auguries before a battle with the Carthaginians. When the Sacred Chickens refused to eat (a good sign) he threw them into the sea declaring, “Then let them drink!”

Claudius then went on to lose the battle and most of the Roman fleet. The Claudii were like that. Years later his sister declared when caught in a traffic jam in Rome, “I wish my brother were still alive! He could lose another fleet for me and thin out this crowd of plebs!”


Happy New Year folks, and keep watching the skies..

First Strike


reverend profile red

The Reverend Hellfire is..

back at work!



•December 20, 2015 • Leave a Comment

The Rev at Lucky Duck..Scary!

Never Remember their Name


I think it is important,

to never remember their names;

these sawn-off shooters/

jack-off killers of crowds,

taking the cheap shot at Immortality/

Mail-order Fame with ammunition supplied

and as added incentive

some aim for Paradise as well!

(never overlook

the religious angle

when motivating Losers)

Yes, it’s these frustrated Failures Final Fuck-up,

as they try and take a few citizens with them

on the way out. Make the Headlines maybe,

and achieve a lingering, local notoriety

as the Face of Fear.


Forget these Fools I say

Fear has no Face,

it is a contagion of the blood

like Racism or Syphillis.

Remember the Dead for sure.

Mourn the Loved Ones lost

as is their right,

but consign their Murderers

to an utter Anonymity,

Damnatio in Perpetuity.

Condemn their base Identity

to irrevocable Irrelevancy

and never


their name.


Who killed John Lennon?

I forget.

Sandy Hook?

No Idea.

The last mass-shooting, bar one, this week?

Does it matter?

It was just another nameless, faceless Fuck-up

from the swarm,

who cares what it was called?


Do I name the fleas on my dog?

bar code eye


new poem


reverend profile red

The Reverend Hellfire…

..You know the rest.



•December 13, 2015 • Leave a Comment


Last Thoughts on the 20th Century


Strange how a sultry summers day,

humid and sodden,

provides a perfect background for reflection,

with the scent of Nostalgia in the air

mingling with the rich, ripe aroma

of rotting vegetation.


Of course by the 20th Century

most modern citizens had lost their sense of smell.

Life’s olfactory profusion passed them by,

they could no more sniff the wind

than wake up and smell the coffee

burning in the morning breeze.




There was always something burning

in the Twentieth Century.

Few found time to stop and smell the flowers,

most were plastic anyway.

Deodorant helped

to dehumanise the Mob’s last vestiges

of their animal nature.

MMM! Smells like Product Loyalty!

MindControl for fun and profuit

But, like they say; Buy the Barcode,

Take the Ride,

Rent the DVD,

Download the Copyright

for the intellectual property

residing in your brain.

Legally speaking,

it’s not even your personality at all;

You’re just using the software

of templates owned

by a company in Switzerland.

Only the physical brain remains

your very own private possesion,

for now, for even as we speak

some lowly, lesser life form (clerk)

is taking out a registered Trademark

on your genome. You belong

to the Company now.

MindControl for fun and profuit

Shit! I’m supposed to be talking

about the 20th Century,

not NOW.

But that’s how it was,

the 21st Century

just snuck up on us unawares

and black-jacked us good and hard..

One moment we’re celebrating the End of History

(spoiler alert; “We” won) and the next

we’re way back in the medieval muck,

fighting the Crusades all over again.

syrian refugee camp

Yes, it was all so very disappointing.

One moment we’ve got our panties

all in a knot about the Y2K Bug

that was going to bring down Civilization

as we knew it,

then the next thing you know

it’s back to business as usual

with another burning Bush in the desert

pouring out great oily clouds of smoke

that hang in the still, dry air,

while a sense of hubris

and tragic deja-vu hovers like vultures

over the scene..

MindControl little alex

And what of the Sixties and Seventies?

That brief, bright bubble of Day-glo Hope

that burst too soon

when we had barely

reached the Moon.

Was it all just hallucination

a drug dream of the pipe,

Our plans to rebuild the Nations,

Our dreams to refashion our Life?

Sure some things changed, that is true,

“chicks” got the vote, “inferior races”

rose to legally human status.

The direction of the Human course

was turned somewhat askew,

We even tried somethings out

that (to us) were almost new,

like Democracy and Drugs,

but in the end Inertia won on through

and we’ve been back-sliding

into bad old habits ever since.


It’s still too early to tell

what the 20th Century‘s greatest contributions

to Humanity’s Progress (a dubious concept) will be

but in the end,

I think LSD will prove to be

more important

than the Atom Bomb.

Trust me.

MindControl little alex

It’s not so much that the 20th Century

invented anything new,

the ideas had all been round for Ages,

mechanisation, mass production, Nationalism,

Capitalism, Communism, et al;

but we certainly took everything

to it’s illogical conclusion

and now it’s at the point

where it’s too late to question anything

that’s labelled “Common-Sense”.

MindControl little alex

Back in the 20th Century

Latin finally went out of fashion

as the Language of Empire. Today,

English is the Dead Language of the Future!

Meanwhile, each Picture used to be said

to be “worth a thousand words”,

but in the 20th Century ‘Art’ had to work overtime,

what with censorship and advertising

and Inflation and all,

so that each picture had to simultaneously speak

both more

and less than a thousand words

to satisfy consumer demand.

Subliminal messages went public

for the first time,

traded well on the stock-exchange

and acquired new popularity accordingly.


There was some concern at first

that the new invention of Television

might be responsible for a general

“dumbing down” of the Populace,

but it was ultimately conceded that

they were already pretty dumb in the first place.

With this in mind, the Television industry

proceeded accordingly, but with stringent

moral and social guidelines in place

for the first thiry years to guide

the infant medium; hence,

married people slept in single beds,

the act of procreation was depicted by the occasional kiss,

black people were rarely glimpsed

except as servants or musicians,

and exposure toViolence was strictly limited

to a mere 586 television deaths

per viewing hour. (In the American Century,

Hollywood solved every problem with a gun/

it looked such Fun/ it’s no wonder

there’s so many/

Massacres today.)


Meh, who cares about the 20th Century

anyway, aside from History Buffs

and people on Quizz shows.

Try and tell the kids

about Life before the Internet

and they’ll just “unfriend” you on Facebook.

It’s like asking them to watch a black & white movie.

So perhaps I should just finish up for now by saying;

you know,

there was some really good music back then,

even if we didn’t have digitally-enhanced

5.1 “surround-sound” systems

and all that crap

and besides,

Vinyl still sounds better

than any MP3s could do.

We had some real cool cars too.

MindControl little alex

Yeah, don’t get too uppity, my dear 21st Century,

We in the 20th Century

might have stolen all our good ideas

from the other Centuries,

or from that Flying Saucer down in Roswell,

but we made them ours, and registered the

Trademark accordingly, and now,

thanks to Walt Disney,

the Estate & Heirs of the 20th Century,

will be collecting on the intellectual property

well into the next Millenium.


And as for all the rest,

We can but apologise

for the mess.

the hi rise face of the future




reverend profile red

The Reverend Hellfire is a practised Performance Poet,

President of the Kurilpa Institute of Creativity,

and an ordained Minister of the Church of the Universe,

AND the Church of Spiritual Humanism.

He’s ok.



Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 355 other followers