Joe Goddard
Joe Goddard is a participant in Poetic Portraits, an intergenerational creative project to showcase the creative talent and diverse life experiences of different generations in Monash.
Joe Goddard, originally from South Yorkshire, England, migrated to Australia in 1974 after nearly a decade in coal mining.
He worked in meat and food processing before transitioning to human resources and industrial relations roles in the health sector, including with the Australian Red Cross and Monashlink Community Health.
Now retired, Joe enjoys painting with the Box Hill Art Group and is active in the Monash Men’s Shed. He and his wife Heather live in Mount Waverley and have 3 children and 4 grandchildren.
Parallel yet intertwined
One sparkling as new ..glitters like Sheffield steel….the other of a base metal, dull and grey. Both speak of yesterday.
Parallel yet intertwined
Two women stand, hands on hips exude pride, their eyes intent, steadfast in their posture, eyes raised, confident.. women of steel.
Parallel yet intertwined
The other cool and grey, has on the one side a safety lamp and stretcher within a winding wheel, we flip it over to reveal.
A team of stretcher bearers, four there number, striding, their steadfastness apparent.
Beneath the poppy head, their task is grim; they bear this injured miner, now rescued, towards the ambulance and safety. Given hope by this team of bonded men.
Their lives…parallel yet intertwined.
[Footer] This poem describes service medallions presented to each of his parents.
To his mother Muriel for her service as a Woman of Steel in Sheffield, England during World War 2.
To his father Jim who worked in the coal mining industry in South Yorkshire for his entire working life. This medallion is for his contribution as a member of the Mine Rescue Team at Houghton Main Colliery, Barnsley South Yorkshire.
To my younger self
Appreciate your surroundings, sense the sounds of nature, the sound of rustling leaves bearing the weight, they hold the tree together, some short some long, some old some new.
Some new experience to you, you’ve never before been through grasp it, sense it, smell it, feel it. Now: It’s yours.
Your life, the good, the bad, the rough and smooth. It’s yours.
That thought you had, that smile, that inner glow. It’s yours.
The anger that you felt, that sense of rage, that wrathful vengeful thought. It’s yours.
That rush of blood, the judgement quick and premature. It’s yours.
The closeness felt in love, that kiss, that smile, the many times you’ve laughed. It’s yours.
Precocious talent underwhelming, the false humility, the effort too little and then unrewarded. It’s yours.
Regard and feel the embrace that family gives. Even though apart, we are together. It’s yours.
Pay attention to the world in which we live, both enemy and friend offer much in oh so many ways, lifting you up, plunging you down, joy, sorrow and despair. It’s yours.
That which you built, that which your hands and mind created, that which you abandoned on the way. Remember that, ever more, it’s yours.