11 November, 2009

sneeches

Campbell Newman
Lord Mayor
Brisbane

cc:
the Honourable Rachel Nolan,
Minister for Transport,

Councillor David Hinchliffe
Central Ward

Dear Lord Mayor,

The following story is a work in progress. Perhaps you can assist me by telling me and my 8 week old daughter how the story might end!!

How will historians (and poets) remember you?

regards,

Rowan Barber
Normanby Q 4059

Now the car addicts of Brisbane were dependent on cars.
The cyclists of Brisbane clung to their handle bars.
The roads were quite wide; there was plenty of room.
So you think the cyclists & car drivers would be happy to zoom.
But those in their cars, would yell out in vain,
“Hey you, you cyclists, get out of our lane.”

With the soot in the air, cyclists would cough and they’d snort,
For some space on the road a fight would be fought.
And as for pedestrians who resorted to walking,
the car addicts zipped past them without even baulking.

When the car addict’s children were dropped off at school,
those who rode bikes or walked were considered un-cool,
Yet they lined up for blocks in the school traffic jams,
you’d think it would be better if they all caught a tram

When the car addicts of Brisbane drove their cars to the coasts,
the traffic was grid locked, while the trains carried ghosts,
they never considered the gases emitted.
Along side the roads was the stuff that they littered.
They commuted to work, they parked there all day,
and didn’t think twice of the price that they paid.

Then one day, it seems, while the car addicts
were static, just static grid locked in the traffic,
sitting there, wishing the congestion would ease,
up popped a stranger who was aiming to please.

“My friends, ” he announced in a voice almost human,
“I want to be Lord Mayor ‘can-do’ Campbell Newman”.
“I’ve heard of your traffic; and I have a suggestion
I can fix that; I am the ‘can-do’ of congestion.

I’ve come here to help you; I’ve seen your dismay,
My tolls will low, and I’ll show the way,
and my public private partnership will be user-pay.”

Then quickly, the Lord Mayor ‘can-do’ Campbell Newman,
Proposed a truly remarkable solution.
Then he said, “You want to drive freely from A to B?
I’ll build you a tunnel for a billion dollars or three.
You know you can trust me, I am a man of my word,
Just keep me in office and call me “my Lord”

They elected him Mayor with a nod and a wink.
The Coro Drive bus lanes disappeared in a blink
He dug North-South bypass, he built Hale Street Link .

When the car addicts drove he would charge them a toll!
They actually paid to go down through his hole!
Then as time went by more cars filled the tunnel,
they closed surface roads so the traffic would funnel.
then grid lock returned, and traffic it queued.
the Emperor in new clothes now appeared to be nude!”

“Good grief!” groaned the ones who had been gridlocked before.
“We’re no better off, perhaps worse off, we’re not sure.
We are stuck on a freeway in a tunnel they all frowned,
We just took the same problem and moved it underground

Then up stepped Can-do with a nudge and a wink, and he said,
“Things are not quite as bad as you think.
We’ll just make them wider and longer and deeper”.
Their addiction to cars was not going to get cheaper.

So they dug more tunnels and added more lanes
and then had to build wider, longer, deeper storm drains
“we need more bridges & tunnels, ” said Can-do.
When you build a new sewer people don’t do more poo,
but when you make the roads wider more people will drive,
Like swarms of angry bees when you mess with their hive.

conifers, the pampas grass, the ford mondeo

the funny clay tortoise outside No 3

Velochick

Gaining momentum by friendly gradient,
Exciting the senses to smiling radiant,

Think not of whether or when it will end,
Relish the moment, enjoy the bend,

Committed angles which make Pisa blush,
Adrenaline engaged, experience a rush.

Conscious green as hedgerows passed,
An innocent thrill, sustained to last.

The Two Wheeled Good

———————–

The Two-Wheeled Good

hardly stopped by very much

through rain snow and heat and sleet

driven home by pedalled feet

waterproof and wind resistant

long spun limbs turn on insistent

that no bus, train or car

or suited warming post-five bar

shall deviate them from their route

as dusk stalks day-glow on their shoot

With bike lights lit like Viking torches

to guide them soon-wet porches

dashing  back in one good stint

all fuelled by smugness for their

carbon foot prints

eight angry geese stand before me

how will i get my bicycle through?

it makes even them angrier

now, there are fifteen of the pesky birds

why can’t they put ‘No Geese’ signs

now i’d pay more council tax for that

Velochick

but to cycle on the A21

tis the quickest way

In nature hedgehogs do the same

and look what happens

to them

Velochick 2008

if it rains all the time

how can I cycle

 it’s supposed to be summertime?

every day

it rains

or hails

or snows

the wind blows the trees down

with a thud

What is it about cyclists

that brings out the wrath of God?

Velochick 2008

(was published in the London Cycling Campaign’s Mag)