Voices of girls

Emotional Australian girls
With strong voices
That are painfully true
And real, oh yes,
Real Australian voices
Fighting for the right
To be free from voices
Of patriarchy – men’s and women’s
Voices telling girls
Who to be
How to stand
When to speak
These girls have stopped asking
How it came to be
They just know it is
And they don’t like it anymore
It’s time for change
As able as any sunburnt son of Australia


Searching for a female revolution

Tomorrow I am setting out
on the fairytale freeway
in relentless search for lost paradise,
just woman, the road and nature;
escaping the angel in the house,
swept by excitement – revolutionary words,
that rage with hunger in the gathering storm

A night at the opera

A night at the opera
/ seductive heroines meet their death
/ stabbed, poisoned, strangled –
/ drive to madness by men
/ abused, tormented –
/ while audiences rise to their feet
/ for the final aria soars sublime
/ fleeting heroes weave their slow plot
/ against female power and strength

My heart aches for Australia

My heart aches for Australia
Beats with sorrow
For the women that walk the streets
When night time falls
Luring men to their fate
For she is nature
And men need to rise above
Soft maidens and wine
To reach their angels
Waiting patiently at home
Expecting him to be faithful
With aching hearts

Australia is fair, like a true daughter of England

A wanderer stands at the statue of Robert Burns
A digger’s tent is lonely in the night
But a woman is other to the men that laid
Our countries roots in song and verse
She was melancholy, as the lonely curlew cried
Men are sailors battling the weather and dying
Women’s hearts break with all the work and toil
Men struggle and suffer on the other side of the world
Leaving behind sweethearts with eyes full of tears
England was her, the land that gave them birth
Other because men were not of the soil, the fertile land
Australia was her daughter, young and wild and free
Men died to keep her safe, to keep her innocence
From the ravages of men in the old country
Strangers look up her surnbunt shores with lust
Envying the riches hidden deep within her valleys
Jealously the men protect her from strangers
But not from their own violence, their rape, their murder
Australia is fair like a true daughter of England.

The futility of war

good men brave and true
do not fear the leap into danger
it is for women and children
to sit home and quiver
until the good men do not return

Original sin revisited

In the afterlife mystics
nebulous, supernatural
spiritual female souls
search sacraments,
internalising blame.
Penitent pawns gesture,
curious priests castigating
celestial glory, communicating
with angels tempted
by women’s receptivity,
exciting his lust.

Fear is the weapon

Fear is the weapon
against laughter, freedom,
liberty is too freely used
for being, just to be;
hope runs scarlet
in the streets, grief
sirens down below
power is existence
but there is no surrender.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑