Billy Adams
@billy-adams.bsky.social
Interested in the rehabilitation of degraded landscapes. Once upon a time I used to read a bit.
🌿 North-west Meanjin. Above the floodplains of Maiwar.
🌿 North-west Meanjin. Above the floodplains of Maiwar.
The Fine Arts
You can go to flash places to eat,
Or faraway countries to stay.
But the best kind of doing is nothing,
And I like to practise each day.
You can go to flash places to eat,
Or faraway countries to stay.
But the best kind of doing is nothing,
And I like to practise each day.
May 15, 2025 at 12:31 AM
The Fine Arts
You can go to flash places to eat,
Or faraway countries to stay.
But the best kind of doing is nothing,
And I like to practise each day.
You can go to flash places to eat,
Or faraway countries to stay.
But the best kind of doing is nothing,
And I like to practise each day.
The Undeserving
See here my home,
Birds full of plastic.
See here their home,
Watch children get blasted.
See here your home,
Applaud rising of fascists.
See here our home.
Nothing, not one thing,
has lasted.
See here my home,
Birds full of plastic.
See here their home,
Watch children get blasted.
See here your home,
Applaud rising of fascists.
See here our home.
Nothing, not one thing,
has lasted.
May 14, 2025 at 10:50 PM
The Undeserving
See here my home,
Birds full of plastic.
See here their home,
Watch children get blasted.
See here your home,
Applaud rising of fascists.
See here our home.
Nothing, not one thing,
has lasted.
See here my home,
Birds full of plastic.
See here their home,
Watch children get blasted.
See here your home,
Applaud rising of fascists.
See here our home.
Nothing, not one thing,
has lasted.
Reposted by Billy Adams
“I’m sad to say just yesterday we blew [the record] out of the water, and our new record holder is 778 pieces of plastic in an 80-day-old seabird chick, in one of the most pristine corners of our planet.”
www.abc.net.au/news/2025-05...
www.abc.net.au/news/2025-05...
May 14, 2025 at 10:08 PM
“I’m sad to say just yesterday we blew [the record] out of the water, and our new record holder is 778 pieces of plastic in an 80-day-old seabird chick, in one of the most pristine corners of our planet.”
www.abc.net.au/news/2025-05...
www.abc.net.au/news/2025-05...
Sounds
Across the way,
a too loud television.
Doors down, they're practising drums.
His collar on the hardwood floor.
A soft wind whispers the Grevillea.
Birds, I don't know and those I do.
In the distance, the rhythm of unceasing waves.
And in my head, again, forget-me-nots.
Across the way,
a too loud television.
Doors down, they're practising drums.
His collar on the hardwood floor.
A soft wind whispers the Grevillea.
Birds, I don't know and those I do.
In the distance, the rhythm of unceasing waves.
And in my head, again, forget-me-nots.
May 12, 2025 at 11:02 PM
Sounds
Across the way,
a too loud television.
Doors down, they're practising drums.
His collar on the hardwood floor.
A soft wind whispers the Grevillea.
Birds, I don't know and those I do.
In the distance, the rhythm of unceasing waves.
And in my head, again, forget-me-nots.
Across the way,
a too loud television.
Doors down, they're practising drums.
His collar on the hardwood floor.
A soft wind whispers the Grevillea.
Birds, I don't know and those I do.
In the distance, the rhythm of unceasing waves.
And in my head, again, forget-me-nots.
Holidays
Awaken from the sun.
Unalarmed.
The others, softly sleeping still.
The dog and I, padding around.
A weak sun strains through clouds; warms my shoulders.
Coffee and words.
A day holds its promises close.
Awaken from the sun.
Unalarmed.
The others, softly sleeping still.
The dog and I, padding around.
A weak sun strains through clouds; warms my shoulders.
Coffee and words.
A day holds its promises close.
May 12, 2025 at 10:37 PM
Holidays
Awaken from the sun.
Unalarmed.
The others, softly sleeping still.
The dog and I, padding around.
A weak sun strains through clouds; warms my shoulders.
Coffee and words.
A day holds its promises close.
Awaken from the sun.
Unalarmed.
The others, softly sleeping still.
The dog and I, padding around.
A weak sun strains through clouds; warms my shoulders.
Coffee and words.
A day holds its promises close.
Stuff
Books. Music. Trees.
A tin roof in the rain.
My old blue hoodie;
Matching jeans from Nowhere.
The kettle whistling.
All I ever wanted.
All I ever needed.
And you.
Books. Music. Trees.
A tin roof in the rain.
My old blue hoodie;
Matching jeans from Nowhere.
The kettle whistling.
All I ever wanted.
All I ever needed.
And you.
May 12, 2025 at 1:07 AM
Stuff
Books. Music. Trees.
A tin roof in the rain.
My old blue hoodie;
Matching jeans from Nowhere.
The kettle whistling.
All I ever wanted.
All I ever needed.
And you.
Books. Music. Trees.
A tin roof in the rain.
My old blue hoodie;
Matching jeans from Nowhere.
The kettle whistling.
All I ever wanted.
All I ever needed.
And you.
Reposted by Billy Adams
Every election. Every western country. Same narrative from the right. And somehow* this shit still gets them over the line.
*Depressingly low levels of public media literacy, and a complicit commentariat, bound by their employment contracts to billionaire oligarchs...
*Depressingly low levels of public media literacy, and a complicit commentariat, bound by their employment contracts to billionaire oligarchs...
April 22, 2025 at 8:27 AM
Every election. Every western country. Same narrative from the right. And somehow* this shit still gets them over the line.
*Depressingly low levels of public media literacy, and a complicit commentariat, bound by their employment contracts to billionaire oligarchs...
*Depressingly low levels of public media literacy, and a complicit commentariat, bound by their employment contracts to billionaire oligarchs...
Reposted by Billy Adams
I hope all the Australians rightly horrified by Trump ripping people from their homes and deporting them/holding them in indefinite detention…but thinking this couldn’t happen here can remember what Dutton did to the family from Biloela, including two tiny girls born here.
April 21, 2025 at 9:21 AM
I hope all the Australians rightly horrified by Trump ripping people from their homes and deporting them/holding them in indefinite detention…but thinking this couldn’t happen here can remember what Dutton did to the family from Biloela, including two tiny girls born here.
Reposted by Billy Adams
Here's me. 'On doing the same inadequate shit over and over again until the end of democracy'
On doing the same inadequate shit over and over again until the end of democracy - The Shot
The consequence of not good enough, as evidenced in the United States right now, is that you inevitably get much, much worse.
theshot.net.au
April 11, 2025 at 2:25 AM
Here's me. 'On doing the same inadequate shit over and over again until the end of democracy'
Been coming back to Lori McKenna's poem, Humble and Kind a lot lately.
Here's a bit of it:
Hold the door, say please, say thank you.
Don't steal, don't cheat, and don't lie.
I know you got mountains to climb,
But always stay humble and kind.
Tim McGraw did a version:
youtu.be/awzNHuGqoMc?...
Here's a bit of it:
Hold the door, say please, say thank you.
Don't steal, don't cheat, and don't lie.
I know you got mountains to climb,
But always stay humble and kind.
Tim McGraw did a version:
youtu.be/awzNHuGqoMc?...
Tim McGraw - Humble And Kind (Official Music Video)
YouTube video by TimMcGrawVEVO
youtu.be
January 29, 2025 at 10:25 AM
Been coming back to Lori McKenna's poem, Humble and Kind a lot lately.
Here's a bit of it:
Hold the door, say please, say thank you.
Don't steal, don't cheat, and don't lie.
I know you got mountains to climb,
But always stay humble and kind.
Tim McGraw did a version:
youtu.be/awzNHuGqoMc?...
Here's a bit of it:
Hold the door, say please, say thank you.
Don't steal, don't cheat, and don't lie.
I know you got mountains to climb,
But always stay humble and kind.
Tim McGraw did a version:
youtu.be/awzNHuGqoMc?...
One Day
It's just one day,
Same as any other.
I stay put. Quiet.
Wait for it to pass.
The majors party on.
Carefree, dancing on graves.
They have their beliefs.
My troubles are mine.
The afternoon grows long,
Hot, humid.
A wide brown land,
Heaves and sighs its grief.
Shifts toward the east.
It's just one day,
Same as any other.
I stay put. Quiet.
Wait for it to pass.
The majors party on.
Carefree, dancing on graves.
They have their beliefs.
My troubles are mine.
The afternoon grows long,
Hot, humid.
A wide brown land,
Heaves and sighs its grief.
Shifts toward the east.
January 26, 2025 at 7:31 AM
One Day
It's just one day,
Same as any other.
I stay put. Quiet.
Wait for it to pass.
The majors party on.
Carefree, dancing on graves.
They have their beliefs.
My troubles are mine.
The afternoon grows long,
Hot, humid.
A wide brown land,
Heaves and sighs its grief.
Shifts toward the east.
It's just one day,
Same as any other.
I stay put. Quiet.
Wait for it to pass.
The majors party on.
Carefree, dancing on graves.
They have their beliefs.
My troubles are mine.
The afternoon grows long,
Hot, humid.
A wide brown land,
Heaves and sighs its grief.
Shifts toward the east.
Reposted by Billy Adams
sean connery’s alma mater
January 8, 2025 at 5:31 PM
sean connery’s alma mater
Reposted by Billy Adams
You can hear the blood in your veins if you listen vericosely.
December 19, 2024 at 9:07 PM
You can hear the blood in your veins if you listen vericosely.
Whispering
Through the shifting ether,
Where all of dreams seem real,
Illicit love takes hold.
And that is where I meet you,
The shadowy, whispering realm,
To join not bodies, but in souls.
January 1, 2025 at 6:57 PM
Whispering
Through the shifting ether,
Where all of dreams seem real,
Illicit love takes hold.
And that is where I meet you,
The shadowy, whispering realm,
To join not bodies, but in souls.
Just Before
Just before dawn,
First light creeping
Over curtains.
Awake and dreamy,
For sleep has left
Me now.
Birds mark the start
With their songs.
The chimera of you,
Slips away again.
January 1, 2025 at 6:44 PM
Just Before
Just before dawn,
First light creeping
Over curtains.
Awake and dreamy,
For sleep has left
Me now.
Birds mark the start
With their songs.
The chimera of you,
Slips away again.
Reposted by Billy Adams
“Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”
“So you don’t want to play fetch, then?”
“I just don’t see the point, Steve.”
“So you don’t want to play fetch, then?”
“I just don’t see the point, Steve.”
December 30, 2024 at 1:40 PM
“Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”
“So you don’t want to play fetch, then?”
“I just don’t see the point, Steve.”
“So you don’t want to play fetch, then?”
“I just don’t see the point, Steve.”
The last time
The last time we spoke,
I was trying.
To find my way back.
I heard your repugnance.
When I laughed;
You said you weren't trying to be funny.
So felt the long goodbye
through the phone.
Placed it down. Surrender.
And later often wondered.
Did you ever get the birthday
card I sent?
The last time we spoke,
I was trying.
To find my way back.
I heard your repugnance.
When I laughed;
You said you weren't trying to be funny.
So felt the long goodbye
through the phone.
Placed it down. Surrender.
And later often wondered.
Did you ever get the birthday
card I sent?
December 28, 2024 at 12:06 PM
The last time
The last time we spoke,
I was trying.
To find my way back.
I heard your repugnance.
When I laughed;
You said you weren't trying to be funny.
So felt the long goodbye
through the phone.
Placed it down. Surrender.
And later often wondered.
Did you ever get the birthday
card I sent?
The last time we spoke,
I was trying.
To find my way back.
I heard your repugnance.
When I laughed;
You said you weren't trying to be funny.
So felt the long goodbye
through the phone.
Placed it down. Surrender.
And later often wondered.
Did you ever get the birthday
card I sent?
Reposted by Billy Adams
Shitposting is a real skill, a bit like chess, but without the dice
December 27, 2024 at 11:19 PM
Shitposting is a real skill, a bit like chess, but without the dice
On Leaving
When all was said
and done.
Races run, lost
and won.
Positions taken.
Choices made.
When please dont go,
Became, I won't stop you.
Then you remained
and I had left.
To walk through life
My great regrets.
When all was said
and done.
Races run, lost
and won.
Positions taken.
Choices made.
When please dont go,
Became, I won't stop you.
Then you remained
and I had left.
To walk through life
My great regrets.
December 26, 2024 at 7:26 PM
On Leaving
When all was said
and done.
Races run, lost
and won.
Positions taken.
Choices made.
When please dont go,
Became, I won't stop you.
Then you remained
and I had left.
To walk through life
My great regrets.
When all was said
and done.
Races run, lost
and won.
Positions taken.
Choices made.
When please dont go,
Became, I won't stop you.
Then you remained
and I had left.
To walk through life
My great regrets.
This morning, where I am.
December 24, 2024 at 9:59 PM
This morning, where I am.
Reposted by Billy Adams
maybe she's a
vagabond heart
raised by wind
loved by sky
vagabond heart
raised by wind
loved by sky
December 21, 2024 at 8:44 PM
maybe she's a
vagabond heart
raised by wind
loved by sky
vagabond heart
raised by wind
loved by sky
Reposted by Billy Adams
Turns out adding glitter to your urine sample doesn’t add sparkle to the lab techs lives. It does, however, get you yelled at by your doctor.
December 17, 2024 at 2:02 PM
Turns out adding glitter to your urine sample doesn’t add sparkle to the lab techs lives. It does, however, get you yelled at by your doctor.
The Dance.
When all your work is done.
House built, garden grown.
Children up and gone.
When silence fills the gaps.
For two here, left alone.
With broken dreams and taps.
When all is lost or seems to be,
Stretch your hands, let music play.
And save, the last dance for me.
December 15, 2024 at 12:52 AM
The Dance.
When all your work is done.
House built, garden grown.
Children up and gone.
When silence fills the gaps.
For two here, left alone.
With broken dreams and taps.
When all is lost or seems to be,
Stretch your hands, let music play.
And save, the last dance for me.