Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Poems about Genocide

A series of poems written about the genocide of Indigenous people -
An attempt to express the emotions I experienced during research into policies of
assimilation and eugenics in Australia.

Dig that shit

Mines are the mass graves of Humanity.
Dig that shit?
Rape your mutha
Wonder why you are questioning your sanity?

I looked out the window and everything was a mass of poisoned, deathly shit.
And I was it and so where you.
Oh no, but I need a bla bla bla, coz, you know...I need it
We are all doomed
I may as well dig that grave a bit deeper and get a plasma screen, yo!

Fuck yo.
Your plasma screen and your big fuck off hole in the ground.
The waste dump where you bury the shit you up graded, up grave.
And all you people sitting in that circus called parliament.
And all you mining executive slave driving mutha rapers.

You are killing this land and her people.
This rape culture is death.
Wake up and see it and DO SOMETHING
Oh, no dear. Thats not very nice!
We have well-to-do life styles, you know.

Your life style stink like the fetted turds
you flush so freely.
That shit is NOT going away.
I can smell it!

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Bleached like ivory

We where bred into white people. while people. white people

Mummy, why did the white people do that to us?
Because they where stupid, Because they could.
Where did the color go?

Melted into grey streets and brown smoke stacks - Leached.
Like drift wood on the ocean current, to the sand,
baked in the hot sun - Bleached.
Why does that make the white people stupid?

Because they are blind to how things are dreamed to be,
You can't leach the essence of how things are
if they wanted to see. to see. to see

In the river one sunset, I spoke to the rainbow
We chatted, about the state of the world,
Things are not much fun some times you know. you know. you know
The serpent knows. All color. Isssssssss

Hi in the sky, grey ivory bright. Hurts the eyes.
Eagle circles, sees, knows forever. forever. forever
Without stupid blind color matters on the mind.

The woosh of wind. Still. Breath of trees above the canopy.
Eagle knows justice will come to those who chose
to dream of smokestacks and monolithic phallus office block.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid

So my child, not to worry. The ivory skin issssssss.
Our camp fires will burn forever.
Rainbow will wait and chat.
Eagle watches and knows justice is OUR dream.

Friday, July 3, 2009

Walk the Streets

April, 2009


Pale skins shine with purple veins translucent
Milky eyes searching,
Having witnessed a nuclear holocaust.

Shining bright in transparent chests
These walking dead
Have hearts of pure gold

The darkness of the street
Consumes their bright beauty
And we forget who we are

Not so long ago
We walked proud
Upon our lands

We wander

The time has come for our hearts and eyes
To shine bright again.

We will never forget who we are
In our golden hearts.

The power went out...

The power went out
Yes, thats right: the electricity, it's gone.
The telephone is dead

There will be no calls for re-establishment.

The lights are out, computers black
networks down, radio ravenged, banks on the blink
Freezers defrost, ice cream avalanches.

The people, with no switches to flick or TVs to watch
huddle on street corners, around fires
toasting slices of stale bread and roasting potatoes in the coals

Slowly, they realise no emergency service is no the way
They boil water for the tea and sit together
It had to happen one day, sooner or later, they say.