Outback Trek: Hebel Dreams

I dreamt upon
the flight of night
riding the backseat
of a V8 Ford Pilot
whilst a Corporate Shaman
was stelthily installing
into my right arm
a mechanism
powered by lithium
that would recharge
my iPhone
and disseminate information
I asked
was this for my benefit
. . . or theirs?
but a vowel of silence
prevented him from answering

I dreamt I was standing
at the Hebel Town crossroads
looking to the west
across a vast dry wilderness
to behold the Devil’s Marbles
laying patiently in wait

I dreamt of blazing a trail
to the east coast
past the lacerating
flagellating Skroo Yoo Trees
of the Daintree Rainforest
Leading a band of boys lost
seeking a grander Neverland
a didgeridoo voodoo child
named Jimmy
who sang the blues
a cranky cassowary
and a Spirit Emu wearing shoes
But that’s another Dreamtime story

I dreamt of things
monolithic
yet strangely bent

. . . made miraculously straight

I dreamt of fording gorges deep

. . . to find living water

I dreamt of a smooth landing
arriving early to a red carpet event
complete with an open bar
and a banquet most enticing
The host of the celebration
had sent a universal invitation
. . . and would soon be coming

I dreamt I was an illustration
in a Never Never publication;
‘The Messy Revenge of Captain Hook’
(not recommended for small children)
Perhaps now I’ll be allowed
to get a tattoo like Uncle Kevin’s?

“In your dreams, punk!
You must first earn the right
in a one on one fair fight
to Tatt the Croc!” ~ Uncle Kevin

Show us your tatts, Uncle Kev!

The infamous Skroo Yoo tree
of the Australian tropical north coast
(no relative of the English Yew tree).

Words and PhotoArt:
~ david redpath © 2018

(… the journey continues)

Photography:
David & Linda Redpath © 2018
+ Anthony Beverly © 2018

105 thoughts on “Outback Trek: Hebel Dreams”

      1. It’s Aunty Hilary, of the gecko tattoo. Take care & safe travels mate. May catch you on the road again one day. Keep on keeping on mate xx

        Liked by 2 people

  1. I had to take a pit stop part way
    to say “flagellating Skroo Yoo Trees”
    out loud
    to the amusement of many passerbys.
    I hope you defeat that croc someday
    in your next dream
    to receive your prized ink work.

    Liked by 4 people

  2. “I asked
    was this for my benefit
    . . . or theirs?”

    Great line, David! Where’s Vanna White when you need to buy a vowel? Wow, I like Uncle Kevin’s tatts, but of course you knew I would. The photos are terrific as are the Skroo Yoo trees! Have a great week ahead. ~ Mia

    Liked by 6 people

  3. A most delightful poem, David.

    I love those lines about a Corporate Shaman installing in your right arm a mechanism powered by lithium.

    There’s nothing like being totally connected.

    That old mantra All Is One has become literally true.

    Is there actually a tree in Australia 🇦🇺 called the Skroo Yoo tree?

    If one got into its sharp prickly points, it looks like you’d be screwed indeed.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Thanks Chris. I’m no botanist,
      but them Skroo Yoo trees sure
      do exist (ouch!).
      They’re the unofficial flora
      emblem of the Australian
      tropical north east coast. The Cooktown Orchard just
      didn’t cut it (wasn’t tough and manly enough).
      As for the actual botanical name?
      I know you’re a keen botonist,
      Chris, but I don’t have a clue.

      Like

      1. You are very lucky Walt
        to be so close. We have a Townsville Country Music
        Festival 🎶. That’s when
        the boys from the bush
        are back in town . . .

        “Been shearing sheep,
        we been mustering stock
        We been culling out roots,
        we been spraying the crops
        We’ve been droving cattle
        up an old stock route
        Now its Saturday night,
        we pile in the yute
        Were the boys from the bush
        and were back in town
        Well the dogs in the back
        and the foot goes down
        Were life members of the outback club
        Were the boys from the bush
        come in from the scrub
        Been out in the heat,
        we been loading the trucks
        Been fixing fences,
        we been choking on dust
        We curse the rain
        we curse the drought
        Now its Saturday night
        and were all in the shout
        We get high when
        the sun goes down
        We work the land
        through fire and flood
        Its in our hearts,
        it runs in the blood
        Well we raise hell
        when the sun goes down
        We get high
        when the sun goes down”
        ~Lee Kernaghan
        `Boys from the Bush´ 

        Liked by 2 people

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