David Stevens

Posts Tagged ‘australia’

A summer story

In Uncategorized on January 27, 2019 at 2:30 am

Summer time here in Orstraya. Floating in the ocean yesterday in between the waves, all the beach moments of all my life joined together, as though the rest of life is a mundane interruption to that Eternal Now that is me floating, I was reminded of how that is reflected by the end of my story, This Neil Armstrong is not dead. Without meaning to be, it is my (not “the”) quintessential Australian beach story – I will never write a better Australian beach story, than this story which is not about Australia, or the beach. Of course, I hope one day to write a better story, which may be about Australia or the beach. Oh mind, be still.

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Straya Day

In Uncategorized on January 26, 2019 at 6:01 am

ALL the beautiful young things are wondering about the place dressed in their swimwear and large Australian flags, so it must be that day again. I was once abused by two bikini wearing teens on this day for not smiling enough (“BE HAPPY! Its Orstrayuh day”) and I will always be grateful that despite the wave of Hulk-like rage that immediately swept over me, for some reason I did not respond. I was pushing a pram overladen with my offspring at the time, and did not notice the two bulky figures behind a tree who were ready to step in with their fists (is that a mixed metaphor, no it is an actual description) to deal with any who sought to disagree with the young beauties / harridans. I remember when nobody celebrated Australia Day, it was just a dusty little public holiday tucked up the back near the start of the school year. It wasn’t the subject of national division that it is becoming, because really, nobody cared much about it. My good mate Stephen used to describe it as “the national day of not working for Australia”. Then along came the 1988 bicentenary, rhyming nation with celebration, and everything went downhill. Just let me have a little rest, is that too much to ask?

FLAG DAY

It was Flag Day

so we wrapped ourselves in our flags

and went to the pub.

Everybody else had the same idea, but.

All the flags were the same

because we are all Flaglanders.

It would have been nice to wrap myself

in the flag of difference

but I was too scared.

Everyone looked the same.

The fun idea had become

A Sad Party Thing.

It doesn’t matter.

The flag unites us.

Our fear of looking different unites us.

All eyes are wary on Flag Day.

Everyone smiles with their mouths

as they lift their beers,

but all those eyes are looking about.

And those eyes are quick.

You don’t want to stand out.

Not on Flag Day.

There are no excuses.

It is not “I pay my taxes” day.

It is not “I am a human being, I have rights” day.

It is fucking Flag Day.

Alright?

You sad party thing

Breach

In Uncategorized on December 31, 2018 at 11:36 pm

Breach #08

Breach

 

 

An early morning call …

In Uncategorized on July 18, 2018 at 4:32 am

Four years since MH17 was shot out of the sky, four years since our telephone rang in the early hours …

Here is what I wrote then.

Sralya Day

In Uncategorized on January 24, 2018 at 10:13 pm

Coming soon to a local park / race track / footy field / beach near you: Australia Day. You can tell by all of the people walking around dressed in Australian flags. Otherwise, you might not know that it is Australia Day, or that you are in Australia. And you wouldn’t want to make a mistake about that, there could be consequences. I still remember when Australia Day was a dusty little public holiday tucked away towards the back of the summer pack, hey a day off, thank you very much. Now it is a thing. Not unlike a sad party thing. So here is my yearly offering, an alleged poem, for Australia Day. There you go, get some culture into ya, ya bastard. Clear your plate, there’s plenty more. Now once more, with feeling …

FLAG DAY

It was Flag Day

so we wrapped ourselves in our flags

and went to the pub.

Everybody else had the same idea, but.

All the flags were the same

because we are all Flaglanders.

It would have been nice to wrap myself

in the flag of difference

but I was too scared.

Everyone looked the same.

The fun idea had become

A Sad Party Thing.

It doesn’t matter.

The flag unites us.

Our fear of looking different unites us.

All eyes are wary on Flag Day.

Everyone smiles with their mouths

as they lift their beers,

but all those eyes are looking about.

And those eyes are quick.

You don’t want to stand out.

Not on Flag Day.

There are no excuses.

It is not “I pay my taxes” day.

It is not “I am a human being, I have rights” day.

It is fucking Flag Day.

Alright?

You sad party thing.

Happy birthday Winnie the Wombat (not womb-bat)

In Uncategorized on December 16, 2017 at 10:47 am

Happy birthday, Winnie the wombat. You look fun and cuddly. But …

 

Wombats are big furry buggers that look like a giant crawling teddy bear and the unsuspecting say “oh cute, so cute” until they turn and outrun your wife and trip her over and you keep running you coward because you have soiled yourself you are so scared, they just keep running and you hear your wife scream because its stopped now, only a fallen victim will stop it, and you hear it, you hear her flesh being torn, it makes a ripping sound, and you cannot ever forgive yourself but you also hate her a little bit forever, because she cannot forgive you, and it is no consolation that the wombat does not eat the flesh, it tears and nuzzles for a moment then returns to its business, it does not eat her because it is a herbivore, but it rips her because it is a nasty big furry bugger, and it could answer the question if it could speak, it could tell you if your wife tastes like chicken, because it has tasted both even though it does not swallow, but even if it spoke, you would be too chicken shit to ask, you gutless wonder.  The relief you felt when she fell.

Not to be confused with the cryptid womb-bats. And what are they? you ask …

 

Womb-bats

The dry evening scurry

Falling leaves

Crackling open before

They hit the ground.

Tiny, not unnoticed as they swarm,

but unmentioned in polite company.

Huge amniotic eyes take in

the miracle of the world

each night.

Before the dawn,

unborn

Rustle along the sheets

A slight disturbance,

a shifting of knees

A minor annoyance

at the early morning turn,

the slight parting

as they enter

to nestle in.

Sralya Day

In Uncategorized on January 25, 2017 at 6:02 am

Here’s some culture for Australia Day – get it inta ya.

Sralya Day, now its a thing. Not just some dusty public holiday at the fag end of the summer holidays, an extra long weekend for free just to make returning to school easier for Mum and Dad. A thing. With concerts and stuff. Sam the former red Wiggle still needs to make a living. Hey, Sneaky Sound System are on at Liverpool, but nobody believes me.

 

FLAG DAY

It was Flag Day

so we wrapped ourselves in flags

and went to the pub.

Funny, eh!

Everybody else had the same idea, but.

And all the flags were the same

because we are all Flaglanders.

It would have been nice to wrap myself

in the flag of difference

but I was too scared.

Everyone looked the same.

The fun idea had become

A Sad Party Thing.

It doesn’t matter.

The flag unites us.

Our fear of looking different unites us.

All eyes are wary on Flag Day.

Everyone smiles with their mouths

as they lift their beers,

but all those eyes are looking about.

And those eyes are quick.

You don’t want to stand out.

Not on Flag Day.

There are no excuses.

It is not “I pay my taxes” day.

It is not “I am a human being, I have rights” day.

It is fucking Flag Day.

Alright?

You sad party thing.

Jan Goldie …

In Uncategorized on July 28, 2016 at 1:56 am

… has been interviewed at Angela Slatter’s blog regarding her contribution to “At the Edge”.

ate

Billy Idol might be grappling with himself

In Uncategorized on July 2, 2016 at 5:20 am

Damn fine news.

My story, ‘The Penultimate Report of Sergeant Burns’ appeared in the inaugural edition of The Grapple Annual, by which I was rather chuffed. Now my ‘The Golden Age of Science Fiction’ has been included in their second volume (along with 41 other pieces), entitled The Grapple Annual No.2, presently under preparation.

Once again, I grapple with all of the big issues of the day: is it socially acceptable to hobble your child, if it is done to prepare them for a job? Is it ever ok just to buy a magazine for the pictures? Why is it best not to know what other people are thinking? Is there a difference in the empathy appropriate for a horrible little man, and a horrible little man with no arms? And I ask these big questions in a journal which is a follow up to an official under rated book of the year award winner. Who could ask for more?

At The Edge

In Uncategorized on June 3, 2016 at 12:58 pm

With a wrap like this, of course I am extremely happy that my story ‘Crop Rotation’ is part of ‘At the Edge’, available now:

Compiled by award-winning editing team Dan Rabarts and Lee Murray, and including a story by Arthur C. Clarke finalist Phillip Mann and foreword by World Fantasy Award winner Angela Slatter, At the Edge is a dark and dystopic collection from some of Australia and New Zealand’s best speculative writers.

Click here for purchase information

 

edge