Latrobe: To Sink or Swim?

This is dedicated to all men in black who in the future will find the coal face is not infinite wealth but mining the true potential of our world.  I look for industry that sees a renewable future not in profit but prophets that seek wisdom, where philosophers are not statues without meaning but the beacon that inspires excellence by walking the talk. 

There is the new consciousness that sees further than self interest, where excellence is who you are not what you do.  My dreams died to awaken to love as the answer in all ways.  An emotional intelligence that regards truth as the gold nugget transformed from base metals (attitudes).  It is about transformation not processing and this only occurs when truth is the gold we are all digging for rather than a personal deposit. 

For one may live in absolute poverty but hold a small piece of gold in their heart to know all the dark nights were worth it.  The clothes do not maketh the man his integrity is what we all long for.   I look forward to an ending of smoke stacks that cloud clarity to find the clean air of virtue as the mountain top replaces the open pit so that we can see further than self interest.  This will be the beginning of a golden civilisation worthy of living for.

LATROBE IS TO SINK OR SWIM

Latrobe was once a mountain top,

Today it is a valley,

Indeed a depression,

For the mountain has lost its top,

As it sees no further than self interest.

Democracy is mined for profit not awe,

There is no resolution to conflict,

As justice is buried in favour of the cold face,

Ethics is being seen to be as the mask,

And outcomes put the horse before the cart,

Backwards,

As this is the art of a movement,

That never concludes the journey,

Travelling in circles of silence,

Blocked at every exit,

Stonewalls on all sides,

A silent spiral that takes you to the cliff’s hand not the true face,

Where budding differences are to sink or swim,

For the carbon sink philosophises business-as-usual or a renewable future?

The answer is the jar vista,

That jars the door from opening to a new vista of infinite possibility,

to find de war was never true freedom.

To swim is to know no-one will give you a line,

In an endless ocean of despair,

For dignity buoy’s souls out to sea,

As boys see what they want to,

And it matters not if truth was the warning flare,

All turn around and face the opposite direction,

For it is better to be right than happy.

You realise fairness is the name of the ship that never comes in,

To learn lies are the Bermuda Triangle that gives no direction,

As for some growth is zero point,

To find the universe is not a city state,

An Agora of Q & A,

Where all are heard equally in respect of continuous improvement,

It appears a steady state with no moving parts but plenty of fanfare,

For it was never about learning progress,

As the future is egress,

And my hopes drowned in a thousand distress calls,

That were never answered,

In truth.