* Gaba means white man. Werriberri was the last tribal Chief of the Gundungurra Aborigines of the Blue Mountains
Tuesday 3 July 2012 4 pm
Dispirited
Joe Massingham
Chisholm, ACT
And then the white fellas come
and try to break our spirits. The
older spirits run and hide from
sticks that crack and smoke,
leaving us alone and fearful,
so we call upon the spirits in
the bottle to give us strength.
At first it seems they do but
by ’n by new spirits come
and eat you from the inside out,
like the rot that eats out the trees,
until you’re left, an empty husk
with no clear memory of the
past and no clear vision for
the future. All you have
is being here and now,
an empty bottle, a fire of
burning embers, with mangy
dogs and waiting crows
for company.
Wednesday 4 July 2012
I Will Call It Solace
Irene Assumpter
East Victoria Park, WA
Good or bad, religious or not, I believe everything happens for a reason.
I will call it solace, not fate.
Things happen to make you stronger.
To help you wake up – because you have slept enough – or simply sleep more, because some things are best left alone.
To tell you when to (gently) press the ‘ignore’ button. To help you know a normal human being can’t possibly please everybody.
To stop you from making a mistake.
To cry. To let go.
To help you learn from past mistakes. To tell you life has never been perfect.
To make amends. To grow.
To smile. To laugh. To love. To cherish.
To help you count your blessings. For a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.
To help you evaluate who and what really matters in life.
To help you know and appreciate your true friends.
Things happen to help you collect stones and find your diamond among them ... for we all have our diamonds.
To separate the wheat from the chaff ... oh the chaff has got to go. The wind needs something to do.
But sometimes, many times, we don’t know why some things happen.
Maybe that’s just it – to help you not know. To stop speculating.
That has to be solace, not fate.
Life brings misery, happiness, unsolicited lessons ... surprises et cetera et cetera.
Because I can’t speculate any more,
I’ll assume there is an overwhelming, higher authority beyond the stars.
One that gives and takes life,
One that is beyond human understanding.
I’ll just assume he or she gets those mood swings we all have.
I will baptise this. This profound feeling. This sense of defeat.
I will keep quiet about it.
And when I speak, I will call it solace.
‘I Will Call It Solace’ is for Jenipher Kirasia Odawo, a strong African woman whose demise continues to make no sense. A sweetheart whose treasured memory keeps us on our toes.
Thursday 5 July 2012 8 am
Robertas
Drummoyne, NSW
How thin is is?
Between was
and will be.
A membrane
thin to vanishing.
A nothingness.
But everything.
Is exists
else nothing does.
Our lives
a moving plane
of is.
A two-dimensional
emptiness
more full
than all that was.
More real
than all to come.
Robertas likes poetry short and sweet. This is one idea for the reader to ponder.
Thursday 5 July 2012 4 pm
Green Eyes In Afghanistan
Sandra Renew
Dickson, ACT
In a brown-eyed country
our eyes are blue and green.
We were here when
Alexander crossed the Hindu Kush.
We were here when opportunistic Russians
fought their way through the Salang Pass
and into Kabul.
We were here when America
invaded our mountains.
We were here when Alexander
passed on by,
and when we sent the Russians home.
We will be here
when the West withdraws its missions.
All we have to do is wait,
and you will be gone.
Alexander left us his green eyes.
The Russians left us education without poetry.
America is leaving us
a breath of a modern world
to unsettle our youth.
But in the end, you will be gone.
All we have to do is wait.
Our people went to Alexander’s world,
to Russian universities,
and to the diasporas in Scandinavia and the West.
They will not come home.
And, in the end, you will be gone.
All we have to do is wait.
Friday 6 July 2012 8 am