poetry

The winter of humankind draws near
Science has spoken in alarm
The day may be warm, unseasonal
Land whips at our faces
Too spoiled to take root
For all the rot we fed it
The well of life ran dry
As the last drop fell from our swollen lips
Our gods of gold had fallen short
Adorned in accolades we buried them too

Perhaps one day another kind
Will unveil our bones of mystery
On what was once such fertile ground
Should they enquire
How we never grew to regard our limits

The young as they cry out

The old as they die out

The middle aged as they shout

And the silence from the so-called leaders

Engulfs our lives

 

'Do something' we scream at them,

The do nothings

Who knit their rugs

Of self-protection

And doing nothing

With words like

'We are meeting our targets'

And 'we are leading the world'

Along with other lies

We no longer accept

 

And so we gather on our streets

While they still do nothing

Dedicated to all the whistleblowers for the sacrifices they make for our freedom.

This is a battle over truth and freedom of the press. But the debate has been shifted to focus solely on one man, because it is much easier to vilify a man than freedom and democracy. Freedom will be plucked from our hands if we debate it on the merits of one man.

A long time ago Martin Luther King

Sought justice for his minority,

But his white friends demurred, “That’s not a thing

Four months after her release from an Israeli prison, Palestinian poet and photographer Dareen Tatour received the Oxfam Novib PEN Award for Freedom of Expression in The Hague in January.

What do you need to lead our nation?

It was a cold and blustery day in Sydney on June 23 when poet Candy Royalle laid down her warrior gloves and breathed her last. The queer, Arabic, literary and protest worlds bowed their heads in shock and lamented her loss.

Candy was a proud Palestinian-Lebanese queer woman and an electric poet and performer. She was ferocious on stage, offering audiences a heady mix of lesbian sexual liberation and searing anti-colonial orations.

PNG has asked that someone be tasked
To examine Manus as a destination
For tourism indeed, so let’s take heed!
They’re awaiting a recommendation.

               Dear Sir or Madam
For your disposal I have a proposal
For the Manus tourism survey,
They need some actions, they need attractions
For the industry they want to purvey.

It might be great to celebrate
What happened at the war’s close,
When vast shipments of US equipments
Rotted on the base, as everyone knows.

You’ve heard of those recessive genes,
And the masterful dominant types?
We could hope Malcolm’s progressive genes
Throve alongside his conservative stripes,
Even if mostly the latter prevailed.
Whereas Abbott’s mix of political genes
Seemed extreme, then more extreme when unveiled.
But Malcolm’s drum-banging terrorism scenes,
“Keeping us safe” (and Muslims uneasy)
By locking up ten-year-olds, now indicate
His progressive genes are feeling queasy.
He’s Abbott without the flags, so to state.

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