Sunday, October 7, 2007

The improvment to poems that won everything under the sun by making these ones the more difficult to read of

Family Ties

Let mothers be bound
By everything that is sound
In her children's perception of need
And fathers be found
To not need be rare
So long as that they provide of
Is not more than a child's mind
Can forgive equitably in time
For who in the world
Will father mine
Bound as I am
By three sons fine
Two daughters in the dreamtime
And an ex-husband of sorts
Who would rather have married the wife
Whose want is control of
The child's mind
So let us be bound
This gift a round
To impose on all fathers
In children's forgiveness abide
No matter how far need we
Redress the tide
Of fears to live within
Paternal consequence bind
Letting mothers thus
Clean up the mess
Of what has become of
Family ties
Bound and gagged alone
By time
That none can deny
In our genetics
Must we rely


Not Too Bad

Can they even know how
To be hungry
Those people whose cow
Is well fed on the
Grasses of the rains of
What will be
For we of the desert
Fear no evil see
When held by comparison
To how the
Rain lands be
Where is it
Higher population
Density
Causing the rain or
Rain bringing the people to be
In the game of
What in life can't be
Held for free
A different ball game
Yet existing the same
Upon lands where
No people are named
As faulted to blame
The ball game
Of no known rain
Is that which
No despair could lame
For together
Will life be
Held on by
What of my
Existence might not long be me
Yet eternally
Life has every been held by
The same key
So learn how
You who want of
Whatever it is going round
Learn how it is that
Being hungry
Is me
Yet never the definition
Of hunger
I breath


When Death’s Disease is Real

I know of those who can’t believe
But this my real experiential feel
Is that of my world
Might it be unfurled
They’d be better off to believe

Yet believe in what
And why me
It is that believing
In reality
Can prove has no money ring

When better off is because
Of re-learning the need
To fend for life
When without money
Has every life the right

So with your dollars and cents
Remember my belief will not be proven non-sense
But that I can not tell of
Only what it is which above
Falls down and infects the ground with

The right to feel
Even when the world
Has proven itself
To be no more than
Your diseases

The world in your head
Will come on down
Into physical sense
Only as diseases
Unless you believe in

What it really is meaning
To be a Human being
That the sense of me is
To hate the world that
Ever denied even one child such fact

So feel with me if you can
What it is we all need please
Believe in again
Since disease has real reason
When deaths want is another season

So believe in me only
I might just be
A real possibility
For without me
Perhaps sooner your own will in death be


Belief in the Self as the Citizen might have right

In this country my home
Now in a forty year zone
Of having imposed
Being citizens of legislative process
Upon every one among
Those of us born here
As though it was us who did
Define legislature
As real law
In this country we love
There has to become
More positive reason
For being a citizen
Than the ongoing failure
Of legislature
To provide justice
In this nation in which
Belonging to land is
The notion of what a house is
Has always been more collective
Yet therein the private becomes
Defined by what is the indigenous
Association with worth in
Holding onto what is without
Immediate utility
For when holding one
To what is your own
To belong
Even when wrong
Has one simple function
Determined by collective suggestion
Of to which story might you belong
In which animal tale might you become strong
Through the money you pay for
How is it you are housed
Might indigenous Australia this
Now after forty years paying
Redefine the nature
Of what it means to be
A citizen
Of the nation
State of mind being
What will be what houses your feeling
And believing it also best
Inshallah like the rest
Of Humanity's best
Will let the money we spend
In the oil industry
Mark us as is
Our real nature to be
For a house our self
Might test imperfectly
To the truth we lead in full attest
While of the carbon
That your car burns
You become what you be
Directly proportionally
Is that you buy
What you cause with
Your purchase
And in each citizenship test
Might we
Ensure this
Ideal is
Bound into
By shared citizenship
With
Those old allegory
Of the house with four rooms
And the horse drawn carriage
No future without the past can manage


Consequence

There is no way
To touch me
Without this
Even yet when
I have of it
No knowledge
In external mind
For belief in
Myself
Will ever I
That my own consequence
Is eternally only mine
And thereby
In Allah I


Islam’s Eternal Victory

The Muslims who deem
All of their own minded sheen
Of what it is Allah might seem
Could be the death of me
Since they are not wanting me likely
To be that defining
What any real believer could be
Are those Muslims
To whom in cruelty
It is that
The rest of us Muslims
Refuse to deny any Muslim
The identification
Of being a Muslim
Yet
When they wish death upon
Any individual among
All of those in Islam
No matter what our identification
Then upon their own mind
They make the stamp of their kind
A non-believer
Indeed is
That which
In Islam
The Jihad of mind
Establishes the right
To end with the falisification of life
While the exact same is real
Of the true feel
Of being an Aborigine
Here in my land australia
Never too grand
And whether there are any
Or none or some
Or all of us many
Who belong in both category
A Muslim and an Aborigine
Risk not to guess upon
For this my friend
Is that we are all who have won
That any are some
However whatever will none


Get It Now

Get it now
He said
But to who and how
When if only he knew
He had said to that cow
He was imagining to be his chow
For the getting of
Was no mistake because
Thus one day I got myself
Back from where in hell he’d taken me since
Of Kinship I was ill but
Not now whence
I learned about
Why any many takes initiation proud
Might be because of
Men like he
Who imagine they are getting
By preying on me
To the tune of the moon
While imagining they do
But forget of
What it is that they did to their own
Self because


When Children Were Stolen

In having been accused
Of accusing
My accuser
Of being a paedophile
While they also thus
Accuse me
To the extent of
Having manifested
False evidence of
In the mask
Of insanity
Yet while I
In Dreams am
Yet child still
So seem
To be anything
At all they
Accuse of me
All the while I have been
Resisting
The temptation
To counter accusing
Even their blaming
That this is but plain statement
Of facts already multiply
Around me
In the real world that
While here I stand
Innocent still
Of all they accuse my will
To prove this
Is that today’s hill
Is one accusation
I might just make
Inshallah that
Not of my own bake
But that forced upon
Me for my own children’s protection
I accuse thus
They who have
Stolen my children
By false allegations
Made to psychiatrists
Whom deluded by believed in
The falsehoods
That already true is
These points here proven
Empirically
That they who have
So behaved towards me
I here formally accuse of
Proving the causes
Of stolen generations
In their own example
Towards me
In my own mothering yet
Never will I here let
Them prove of
Through any example
Against children
Thus the proving
In me
Of Dreams in which
I can never see
Yet understand of
I am preventing
That those who have my children
Taken away from me
Ever feel guilt of culpability
From the rapists
Who attacked them
During their own childhoods
That thus as adults
Now will they be able
Never so offend
But as for their accusing
Me of accusing them
Of what they
Accuse me of
When
They speak with
Insane psychiatrists
All their result is
This
That I guess
All parties to
Will just have to
Be assumed to be
Insane until
They do return to me
My children
For Death’s will be in me
That this will through me

The Intervening Army

The Army has been called in
To inspect the children
Make sure of how clean we
Are keeping up with
The rest of society
Us Aborigines
Opposing the Armies
Bringing with them
The federal police
To ensure no head lice perhaps
For children need schooling
And no child might
Be let ever again
To wonder upon
What it is that went wrong
When their father was taken
To prison
For the truth of the story
Is truly quite appalling
That the children at risk
Are being harmed by
Other children
In children’s attempts to
Bring upon their own selves
The responsibilities of
An adult’s life
Since the children will realise
What is it that
Is happening
To their fathers at
The inside of a prison that
Which imposes this fact
Such that the child’s mind
Wants for what will protect
Itself best
Might be the rapid onset
Of adulthood yet
For such is the likely result of
Any invading army’s cautions
And to be invaded by
Medical examinations
So let us all pray that
At least the police
Might now be
Enabling detoxifications
Among the men who
Were raped into
Becoming grog sick
So lets all pray that
At least the police
Might now be
Enabling detoxifications
Among the men who
Were raped into
Becoming grog sick
Demented and bant
To prevent that as fathers
Their self decency is spent
Upon their own children’s intent


Tobacco

I know of a bloke
Who holds his accounts afloat
By blaming whomever
Need partake of
Any medicine
That is prescribed within
Legislation
And when
Once I believed him
Then he told me I needed
To get such medicine
Of the anti-psychotic variety
Presumably
From believing in him
And I got and took it
And I found therein
All my Dreams turned in
To the nightmare of
His own hate for life
And his own worth despised of
In his consciousness
That such as he is
He needed to force me
Psychologically
To take such medicine
Only so as he
Could be manifesting
Any real sanity
While in the meantime
I stopped taking the medicine
Then stopped needing him
Then recovered
So all is well but
For to find that
He still blames me at
And sought to force me
Take such medicine again
So as to enable
That my own Dreams
Of reality
Can make only himself stable
And have no way
To manifest me
Which supposition
I resisted immensely
Until now here you see
I am remembering
That when I took of
That anti-psychotic
Medicine
I promised myself
In each swallow
To take upon myself
What he blamed me with
While he imagined
His own good health
At my expense his dish of wealth
And so now might I
Begin
To believe I
Can condemn
His falsehoods
By every swallow
Of any future medicine
Including even
The food I buy
That well might you also
Remember me and give it a try
To improve your own mental health
Just by
Commitment to believe
In only what has evidence
Every time you chew
And swallow what
It is you your self need
And as for the bloke
His last delusion of me
Will be for him to choke
Since he believed in
My worldly offer
Of health to him
As though without
That accompanying
Condition
That he like me
Give up
Tobacco


The Cry That Knows No Supposition

There are some who suppose
Having a baby
Enables absolution
Of any sin in
The acts of
Sexualised behaviour
That is enabled
Facilitate conception
Which can be true
Of course only because
There is no absolution
Of any crime against
The child born
That sin-less sex
For procreation
If in truth had a pleasure motivation
Is made more expensive
In the measure of sin
Than is sex with contraception
In every instant in which
Your babe in arms
Cries
With consuming the world’s poor tide
And you can not yourself
Immediately resolve
The tears of the child who knows time
For your own act caused
That you must realise
What every sexual expense will be ever of
For in giving birth
The lesson is
This experience
Is just the beginning
Of responsibility
For far more than the
Simplicity of pleasure’s fee
So be not one among
Those decreasing sums
Of folk who in some
Maddened mind supposed upon
What is the nature of being willing
And what that fact of consent
Can have done to the cost of love’s rent


Tonight’s Dream

Tonight my Dreams have been
Evidenced to be invaded
Interrupted by police assertion
Their own control of Dreamtime
Such that we may detect
What in we have been leaking
From our minds into police delusions
About the imagination
Of control of ancient song cycles
That I will permanent
Refuse to get
Tricked into such assertions
For I know true
The Dreamtime belongs with me and you
And every mind law abiding
For in Allah the truth
Even the criminals mind
Need not accept of
Police accusing
As though their cause is
No more than to convict through their own story
So let them live only in the day time
In the world of physical evidence mind
Meanwhile will I ever persist
In explaining
Through Dream lines
Of Song cycles
Travelling the Earth’s ley lines
Have no far of police assertions
For will I reassert the thing
To believe in
If your Dream cycle
Is real
And the Song lines your deal
Believe in Allah
Jesus is King
And Qur’an belong to the land
So tonight
Like every night
When woken upon a Dream with might
Will I awaken to engage in
Enacting what through True Law is proven
That this night is including
Refuting police asserting
Their control of our song
Has any relevance upon
Ancient story cycles reforming
Allah forever will love the land
Jesus is King
Thus tells Qur’an


I Have Been

Been prosecuted in mind with
Not being black enough of kind
To that the socially acceptable give
But when of their gift is
Only the greed to be whiter
Which they give of by theft of
What I had been of blacker than them
And when I refuse
To take into my behaviour
What it is that I take in mind of them
Are they accusing me
Of being too white
When what I can see
Is that my own behaviour
Is already much blacker
That must I mentally point to
Their insidious ignorance
Of their own whiteness
As my methodology blackly
In tackling the whites who
Tend to
Be less able resist
Behaving only as they have Dreamed through
In pleasure seeking they do
Yet either skin colour
Bears with less consequence
In how black any of us are
In the final analysis
And of how dark our children are
Than does real culture
In which
The patterns for whiteness
Have an extra layer of pride that
Is not how we are made but
Neither externally apparent
Except in that
It is opposite
To black people’s pride at
The fact that most white have
More pride in
The most intimate secrets
Pride held between lovers
Is that which never registers
The full consequences
That of fear of
By the minded way of why
I believe I am truly
An Australian Aborigine
Despite my white skin covering
So have bound myself down by
The culture well founded
In what ever made any one
Deadly black


Plan

Did Japan
Invade Pearl harbour
Upon assumption
Of what might come after
In proof of evidence
Long been in wait
Of America’s debt
But to
Australia
Yet
The evidence is
Not even consolidated yet
Of who it might be
The Japanese count against
Since if this is correct
Its an innocent unmarried girl mother
That well might they shudder
At what they’ve done to each other
Unless of course
A wedding of sorts
Goes ahead
Despite every force
Against


Right Easy She Was

Easy street
Might be where to meet
Some girl whose feat
Will be your own defeat
You whose caffeine
Addicted habit
Seems to auction
Out naught but
Disease a bout
Since her tolerance
To your politics
Is quietly on her abhorrence
Which is no more than tolerance
To her death’s causes
Being in yours is
This what for she is
No real easy feat
And the cure of cures for
Amphetamine lies sure
Is chilli in the
Chocolate highs
Right?


Up the Steeple of Love’s Worst Rot

The set up
That went on so long
Of ripping off
What is Allah’s song
Has already ripped off
The worst of the consequence
Of what was left
After Allah’s own mob
Got ripped off
Is that America
Seems to have ripped off
Australian prison conditions
But applied such to
Islamic belief systems
That those who were supporting Americans
Have been who were imprisoned
Through the war against terror
This is life’s more terrible measure
While here in Australia
Us indigenous believers
Allah knows also as Muslim
Have been the worst imprisoned
An imprisonment ripped off
By an American Peace mob
Whose relaying of to America
Has done what
Is not that over there
In American bare
Are real peace loving people
Who needed not our steeple


Will

Will that they all still
Can realise atop the hill
Of sight
Is that insight to the mind
Need not the bind
Of becoming blind
While to hear
Was never to deny
That of the ear
So if these words conspire
To be denied
Then will we ever find
That it was not through me
But that the Behemoth did to me
Thus let not such be
And put these words here out for all to see
For in the place of
In the tricks which become thus
Is naught but
Sustaining that you can better than be