"...the truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: A human creature born abnormally, inhumanely sensitive. To them... a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, ...a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create - so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, their very breath is cut off... They must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency they are not really alive unless they are creating'.-Pearl S. Buck

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

call me un-astrayan

...you see a few years back i lived but a few hundred metres from the Cronulla riots. then, even worse than the actual day, was the aftermath. being painted with the same brush as those involved in that horrific day of vulgar hatred merely because i lived in the same suburb...well, red never was my colour.

Today the flags are worn by patriots in every imaginable pattern of chinese made paraphenalia, flags, togs, hats, boxer shorts, singlets, towels, paper plats & cups, beer coolers...for twist tops & tallies. I am a particular fan of the arab inspired rolled flag hat come turban, you know like you used to do as a kid with your beach towel...classy. even the cars proudly fly their red, white & blues (so sad to see the reindeer antlers put away). by far the most popular is the strayan flag cape. for the hero among us.

every police officer stationed in this area is on duty, plus we have a few (quite a few) from other stations. i guess you dont get rostered off for straya day round these parts. we dont call them riot squads here anymore, but those non descript police taragos line the back streets of cronulla just as tightly as the revellers swarm from the trains toward the sacred sight once again.

There is alot of mucho talk about patriotism on the street, not so much when the police drag the feral mouthed thrashing drunkards to the back of paddy wagons. i wonder if they're air conditioned. do police officers have to follow OH & S measures? its really hot here today.

Im glad im not the only person who doesnt see patriotism as such a positive thing. These guys say it far better than i do.

"Patriotism is the last refuge of the scoundrel" Samuel Johnson

“If patriotism is "the last refuge of a scoundrel," it is not merely because evil deeds may be performed in the name of patriotism, but because patriotic fervor can obliterate moral distinctions altogether” Ralph B. Perry

"A man sometimes starts up a patriot, only by disseminating discontent, and propagating reports of secret influence, of dangerous counsels, of violated rights, and encroaching usurpation. This practice is no certain note of patriotism. To instigate the populace with rage beyond the provocation, is to suspend public happiness, if not to destroy it. He is no lover of his country, that unnecessarily disturbs its peace. Few errors and few faults of government, can justify an appeal to the rabble; who ought not to judge of what they cannot understand, and whose opinions are not propagated by reason, but caught by contagion." Samuel Johnson

“You're not supposed to be so blind with patriotism that you can't face reality. Wrong is wrong, no matter who says it.” Malcolm X

"Patriotism is the willingness to kill & be killed for trivial reasons." Bertrand Russell

"Patriotism is the virtue of the vicious." Oscar Wilde

Please dont get me wrong, i love this land, & contray to poular belief i even love many of the people that call it home & most of those visitng. I simply cannot be a part of or support something that to me has birthed a generation of egotistical imbecils. I fail to see the joy in something that segregates & instills fear. Not everyone is so welcome in Cronulla today.

Ah Cronulla its so easy to forget that your name means 'place of the pink sea shells.' Its so hard to remember your beauty in the face of such ugliness.

And what on earth do i teach my teenage son on a day like today? His 14yo counterparts can mostly be found down 'the wall' today. hangin, boozin...its fuggen straya day after all mate.
Instead we have chosen to speak with him about what Australia means to us. It means hope, it means understanding, it means gratitude...that we should just so happen to be the lucky few to have been birthed in a nation as beautiful as this, a nation borrowed, a nation stolen.

We no longer live in Cronulla we moved a little further out, unable to stand the violent & thuggish energy that hovers just above its littered shores, yet the vile public performance i still see around me continues to remind me why i dont call myself strayan. I dont need to. Id rather call myself human.

Happy Colonisation Day Australia.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

i dont come...

...round here much anymore
i have love & life & death
& now & then
& today
& yesterdays still
to contend with
& understand
& embrace
& they are piling up
& i dont know where to put them all
i cant fit each day
into each day
& it doesnt mean i dont
think & love & cherish
& remember
its just
the more times i have to let go
the more times i realise
my desire to hold on
& the more times i hold on
the more i realise that
in its extremity
life is so small
& fleeting
& the only thing that matters
is now
so if i am not as before
than forgive me
as i just try to be
right here
right now

blood/ water/ stains

i fought once. against the world & everything in it. against those closest to me. ignorant listless dumb fucks. golden. plodding extravagance. whoring themselves. to a make believe world. fucking their money. fucking their gold. fucking their shiny cars. fucking their couture. fucking the machine. writhing & and rubbing themselves to a glistening sheen. fucking me.

fucking me.

but oh how beautiful they were. carbon cut jesters billowing in the wind.
so big.
a slow motion pose. a portion of awe. eat up. was so hungry.
and i took a peek underneath. then. one day. to see what lay beyond. for surely. great jewels of the world are where they come from. lifted their skirt. closed my eyes tight. held my breath.


i understand.

after after

some days
i laugh
at all that i miss
other days
not so

its never the same
after the fact
after after

i laughed louder


I watched her
wander, waver
toward me
hunched and huddled
a slow calculated mission
to who knows where
and its sad
but it doesnt matter
to anyone anymore

she smiles
as she passes
mumbles that old h'llo
her perfect teeth glisten
in an odd position
as new meets old
and try to get along

But still she shuffles
gently robust
kicks papers
outta her way
step cane
step cane
step cane
i am mesmerised
as she bobbles
up the street

where you been
lil old lady?
what you seen
beautiful girl?
did someone love you
and caress you
in times gone?
did you marry in tradition?
start to live the dream?
did you birth
a little family
into times of war?
did your lover leave you
buried far away
for freedom
how did you feel?
were you lonely?
doin it on your own?
strugglin to eat
keep on your feet
no one wants a widow

but look at you now
look at you go
so determined
to never let go
not nothing
will stop you
coz you know
nothin can kill you
but time

Monday, January 17, 2011

i should

i should write you a love song
because i can
because i choose to
my days edges are rounded by you

i should sail the seas for you
to your side
as only i can
because the moon calls my tides

i should touch your skin
the way i yearned
fallen through

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

i love me a good pray

I pray alot. I mean a.lot. You could nearly say i am in a constant state of prayer. Or another way to think of it is that prayer is my personal white noise. White noise for those who've not heard the term is basically background noise. Static. Because we dont watch teevee or listen to radio as such in our house, we have zero white noise...ah the bliss. It leaves a lot of space for general pottering around prayer. Unless im consciously thinking about it sometimes i dont even realise im doing it anymore.
I used to pray to a God. Yes just one specific God. But these days that is not quite inline with my personal beliefs whilst also being completely inline with my personal beliefs if you get my drift.
One of my favourite sayings is "there are as many roads to god as there are breaths of sons of god.'

This isnt meant to be about religion but i guess im just inlcuding it as its relevant to who/ what i pray to & how i pray.

To me...god is all. everywhere everything. god is not religion. god is existance. oh & god most definitely is love. god loves love. god loves love so much god decided to be love...man i love that.
So when i pray, i pray to all. i send my prayers, my thoughts, intentions, desires out to god...outward & inward to everything.
i offer & i request. i connect with god, with everything external of me & with everything internal of me....& i pray. oh i love me a good prayer. you know what i love better than a good prayer? when you can see the power of your prayer manifest around you...within you.

ps: feel free to replace the word god with universe, mother nature, God (in his/ her various religious forms), earth, gody god god, universe, goddess, angel...whatever or whoever god means to you.