Surfers Paradise
We escape the tombs of frigid cities,
For tropical skyscraping catacombs,
A warm, sticky daze,
Steeped in a cauldron of conflicted energies,
A confused miasma of swirling colours.
Some seek solace and escape,
Others seek profit,
Both predator and prey
Live in comfortable symbiosis,
But there are so many of us here,
Too many.
All the while the surf drums relentlessly,
Its hiss and crash,
Muted by the wail of karaoke kings,
The sparkling stars blanketed in eternity,
Chased by the glow of this neon Oasis,
Pasted and reflecting on warm surf spray
All here are relentless in a search for self,
There seems to be but one law,
Consume at all cost.
And we do.
Feed on ourselves,
For stillness is both Holy Grail,
Yet feared paradox.
There is remarkable beauty here,
It is seen best in the glow
Of a new dawn
When we are not in charge.
12 Dec 2002 (Surfers Paradise Queensland)
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