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Watendlath Tarn

 

Watendlath Tarn

 

I’ve had a real breakthrough with English

Listen to this for a place name

Watendlath Tarn

Man that’s an interesting name!

Part of that is ancient

Where is that from? Norse? Sounds almost Welsh? Scots?

Who were the Angles?

Tarn could be town

Actually I don’t think so

There’s no town there

Was there once?

I don’t know enough

It could have been modernised

In terms of spelling

But the dl in it is neither German nor Saxon I don’t think

Its root?

 

I like the name moon

I like the name noon

As in further back

& then there’s the Celtic language

Of Cornish

& there’s the later midday

But Watendlath

Where the Bloomsbury painter

Dora Carrington lived & died

Man I know very little about this language

My first language

It’s so exciting!

I feel like Big Kev

(An Irish name Kevin)

I need to learn more

Not as in read one book

A compendium (Latin)

As Seamus or James cautioned:

“Beware the man of one book!”

& then it keeps going:

Moving through pastizzi & chilli

Pizza & cardamom curry & sushi & schtick

Fucking bling! Blam! Bllat! & Inshallah

The thugs will go back to their expat homes

In the lands of sex tourism

& yes of course myth & baklawa way more

Orchid bazar pyjamas Yin Yang dabo

Bula Wominjeka castinets

I don’t know about words

I don’t know enough about English

At 54 I’m still young

I speak Standard Australian English

Which has a third of the words

& yet we somehow cope

Wacking yabbis & dimmies in our cakeholes

Whether with duende or laughing like a hyena

Sometimes smashin pots of heavy or XXXX

Sometimes drinkin tea

Lookin like a hobo listening to wee bars over jazz

Looking for some good craic

Man I’m turning into a geek

Beware the zombies & vampires to bloodclaat!

Must be some wack voodoo

In this blak dreaming songlines

Bad blood & bone sometimes

For honky appropriation

Sorry Some poems

The pedantic ones

Can be dangerous

Some say casting spells

Why solitude is prohibited under Yolngu Law & Lore

All this can be very isolating

People call you a weapon or a library

Sometimes I feel like Frankenstein’s Monster

Lonely: bad, friend: good

Even when I’m out I’m preoccupied

I’m not mindful

I’m in danger of going crazy

But the shitty is going crazy

Lotta heavy dudes

On rotation off the interchange bench

Fuck you Cunt!

Maybe Psychiatry is right

& it’s just OCD acute Anxiety complex PTSD & Schizo-Affective Disorder?

But I feel the spirits the ancestors are angry

By what’s happening on Earth these days

I think we should be listening to them

Those who’ve been around for a while

Of course I pray through Jesus

He knows storms in teacups can grow

& that there are many holy lands

Everywhere is sacred land

Here in Naarm

As complicated as language makes your mind

Our heart must guide us

To feel how Love is

Love, the key

Make Love not War

 

 

Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

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