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jumping
stone fences
running
thru the bush
melissa and I
waving sticks above our heads
avoiding the mag pie bite
two twelve year olds
tripping over rocks and shrubs
thru paddocks
singing songs at cows
jumping stone fences
from field to field
climbing the rings of age
that circle the mountain
above a green valley
a speckled land –
quilt of australian trees
hunched in corners
beyond – the big water
blemishes
the
world hasn’t changed much
just a few blemishes covered
I read the news
watch the radiated screen
our planet bleeds
drowning the kindness of man
financiers folded into pockets of existence
lost people, with loose change for pride
capitalism thrives on the bones of starvation
I look for action on the streets
becoming smaller
once, propaganda meant information,
now a machine, grinding stones of hope
we wear shoes now
our natural leathery souls softened
in the comfort of cities
breaking the ribcage of earth
third
world, western world,
muslim state, hindu country,
catholic value, buddhist chant
orthodox, jew, mormon,
pentecostal and baptist
collide on the field of philosophy
science claims the knowledge of creation
indigenous cultures lose their right, to history
I watch the integration of skin, colour, language
waiting for an awakening
the great apology yet to come
where will our children be
when the sun dies
I watch the ocean
feel the increasing heat ripple on skin
deserts stretch wider, a sandy preacher
revealing a lost tomorrow
praying for rain where trees once stood
progress, our driving force
the gift of speech,
a conceited intelligence we claim
I cling to the vision of blue
walking thru newly planted forest
fresh oxygen
no more brass banners
drums, borders or woman
standing alone
I
thought you was Dallas
black
night
stars brighter than silver shards
blades and teeth in the sky
ravenous quarter moon crying, warning
she awoke to him behind her rough hands
pulling hair at the crown of her head
hips pounding into hers – thru manic laughter
couldn’t see, couldn’t scream
she sobbed, struggled , a wild animal
scrabbling, scrabbling thru dark chasms
red wine-hallucination
‘stop’ she growled
‘you like it’ he said with a slap
there was no scream
just a pool of sorrow where her heart sank
in the morning she kicked him
punched and howled
he took it all,
the girl couldn’t cope with this demented thing
‘I thought you was Dallas’
that’s all the apology she was ever gonna get
he told her friends, she was ashamed & scared
scared to tell that he knew
Dallas has long hair
her hair was short for years
(a silent tribute to pending death)
and unlike Dallas she wasn’t Aboriginal
he knew where his woman slept
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