unspoken pauses between channels
emergency alerts, empty city streets
faded murals sell —―
returning inside like a dead satellite


just dance dance dance

dark night escape
from life space
society seeks efficiency
technology towers
take people’s live
fleeting myths
suspended on instagram
but don’t worry
just dance dance dance

Surviving the 21st Century

low tech – terror ,
new ways to cheat in the public interest,
the people speak
but not with one voice;
chequebook journalists pursue victims,
blueprints of the future fall short,
the White House shakes
to a vicious campaign,
shooting drones from the sky;
this is just murder by another name,
not politics, ideology, religion,
it is murder, lying in wait
for global investors to get nervous,
but down here it’s business as usual.

Today’s world

where Monday is a long time ago
economic powers military might
worries persist leaders
global disorder runs across borders
nothing like a war for votes

at its heart oppression
shadowy threats overt
the complex truth

child breathes poison air
women, children, religion

Directing the storm

Directing the storm
Of patriarchal ideals
That men and women subscribe to
Of romance, unattainable love,
Housewives keep streets clean,
With sparkling eyes, dimpled, fresh,
Waiting to bestow kisses or faint
Curiousity won’t stop them talking,
Defined not by what they do
But by their relationships to men.

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

There was a boat

There was a boat
Just an old boat
Rust curling up the side
But it was the children
They were in the water
All of them
All of the children
In the blue water
Like it was a game
If I covered my ears
It looked like a game
They weren’t screaming then
And it was just the smoke
From the burning boat
Flowers licking the rust
That made my eyes teary
Not the children
I couldn’t see them anymore
But I knew they were there
In the water, the blue water.

Society, the dark truth

the basement of civilisation
ensnares humans with a lust for survival,
outside the shining dawn draws them out of corners

newcomers are swallowed behind doors
into the doll’s houses of emotion
human nature walks away from the poor

slipping through the cracks of humanity
misery leaves childhood behind
in the wind and the rain, the dark truth

They’re watching me

They’re watching me
over every shoulder
reading my emails
following every footstep
into the shadows
every key stroke
every thought
worried about revolution
but they are part of the problem

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑