Friday, December 26, 2008

FOR FLEURETTE


Fleurette...my little flower
Another year has passed
Memories I will treasure by the hour
moments that will last.

I have no earthly treasures to bestow
No trinkets or treats to show
So, on this day to celebrate your birth
I give you the greatest gift I know
Something no amount of money is worth
Something you can’t wrap in a fancy bow

Nothing pretentious or smart
Something that comes from the heart
Something that will never keep us apart
As pure as a dove
My gift to you is wrapped in love.

Heartland Dreamtime

Today ... I wish I could see the heartland ... as it was,
in the dreamtime, before it was dispossed;
before it was changed to make way for the rest;
before we got there and trampled it with a pest –
animals that didn't belong – that were designed all wrong,
for a land so fragile to be trodden on.

Yes ... I wish I could have seen the heartland then;
not like it is today, with nature gone astray,
exposed and crying in pain, competing in vain
with commerce and money for gain;
raping the earth with knowledge of a foreign strain.
Our indigenous people weeping at the cost
of what they had preserved and now lost.

Truth ... those that came before, new the score,
respect what you have or loose it for evermore.
Since the dawn of time it has remained pristine,
a delicate ecosystem basking in the sun,
but what my eye's have seen,
confirms to me, the destruction we have done.

Sadly ... our history written with the power of the pen,
of how it was then.
We were fed the legacy of a myth –
our pioneering fathers – and how they tamed a rugged land,
strugggling with what they new,
our fragile identity chiselled on the faces of a few.
The collective consciouness of a nation
passed down to me and you.

Now ... I to hear the voices of the ancient dreamtime harking,
in the features of the landscape marking.
The rainbow serpent sculpturing the land,
untouched by human hand.
Myths and legends older and wiser than ours,
respecting the earth, mother nature and all it's worth.
A lesson we could heed, to take only what we need
and not use it for our own selfish greed.

But ... angry words have never corrected a wrong.
To blame it on the ignorance of the past,
is to neglect the future and make it last.
We cannot undo the wrong that has been done,
but we can re-write the history book, for what we took
and accept the price we have paid,
for the mistakes we have made,
so the generations to come can still take pride,
in the things we cherish about the legends of the bush
and have nothing to hide.

CRIPPLED FRIENDSHIP

I guess you thought you knew me then,
way back then, when I didn’t know myself;
and if I did, I kept it hid, a tight lid – sealing a sensitive soul.

It wasn’t the real me, I was someone else you see.
The real me was deep inside, not yet crystallised –
a pupa waiting to metamorphosise.
So what you saw, was probably more, of an image of yourself.

I was a mimic then – a chameleon changing colours to suit the occasion.

Inevitable circumstances split us and in time, distance yielded a new me.
I discovered my soul, my intrinsic self, the one I was meant to be.

But destiny mocks the status quo and now you’re here again –
a challenge to the new me.

Mixed feelings coagulate into a heavy solid mass.
And as I surrender to the weight of nostalgia,
I feel a fraction of my new self disappear.

With a part of me gone, portions of my former self surface,
as our greeting convolutes to the narrow flue of our common past.

We were similar then, both lost in a fog of grog.
Mental midgets and emotional cripples in a cultural vacuum.
A slurry of dribbling monologues and sloppy embraces of mateship.
Things said and forgotten, repeated and gone rotten;
our true identities locked in bottles of booze.
Embracing each day in the same way as days before,
saluting to a drink – that alcoholic fluid that reminds us of who we are.

Deja vu! A second in time freezes my life to a moment.
Like a slap in the face you reflect my former self,
revealing the seeds we’d sown and how much I’ve grown,
while you stagnate in the stench of mediocracy.
Time, it seems, has taught you naught. I see you still drink to much –
a convenient crutch for a dominating tongue.

The comparison jolts me to the reality that I am on my own,
while you resurrect exaggerated tales of our youth.
Pathetic stories retold with twisted truth, as if this moment does not exist,
just the past – our bond – a sticky glue that holds us together.

Do you not see, that which is obvious to me – the truth –
that we no longer see eye to eye –
that our friendship is based on a lie.

And, if you cannot see, the new me, what would the purpose be,
to explain myself the thee.

In a vain attempt I try to articulate a deeper thought.
Expose my new self. But when I hear you scoff at noble thoughts and deeds,
and jeer at others needs, I stop, I no longer care.
Just pathetic memories – visions of a cripple and me walking with a limp.

That is why it’s time to say goodbye to you and me
and the futility of our unity. You never were my kind,
you just stole my precious time and raped my mind.

I’m now on a different plane, no longer playing your game.
I’ve found my own place, at my own pace, in control and out of the rat race.
And, no longer walking with a limp.

CENSORSHIP IN A NEUTRAL UNIVERSE

Fuck, is a cunt of a word! So is prick and many other taboo words!

Do I have your attention, or have I offended you, or both? Either way, it is your thinking that has made it so.

And if you are offended, then let me quote Shakespeare, specifically, Hamlet: ‘There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so’. In other words the universe is neutral, there is nothing either good or bad, but our thinking. More specifically, our conditioned thinking—like Pavlov's dog, society has conditioned us to believe certain things are either bad or good.

Yet, what is acceptable by one culture, is not necessarily accepted by another. Take belching for instance, perfectly acceptable in the middle east, a real compliment in fact, but try that at your local dinner party and gauge the reaction. Or nudity, even in our own western culture, it has had its generational ups and downs; today its common place and generally inoffensive; yet in muslim society its taboo, especially for women (a double standard perhaps).

Look around the world and the diversity of cultural ethnicity, religious divisions and divisions within religions, moral and ethical disparities; in their differences, they can’t all be right—right! Nor can they all be wrong—right! Reason and logic dictates that they are conditioned by the society they belong too or live in etc. to accept certain codes of practice and behaviour that they think is right. But in our diversity, just who is right and who is wrong. If both sides think they are right, then what does that tell us. It tell me, that you can’t trust your thinking and that nothing is intrinsically right or wrong, or more specifically that any idea you have is neither right or wrong but neutral. And if an idea , thought or a word, any word, ‘cunt’ for example is neither right nor wrong, but neutral, then how can it be offensive.

And, to further support this neutral universe theory, offensive words come and go. I can still recall a time when ‘bloody’ was taboo, or ‘bugger’, now it’s featured in some of our best advertising. Isn’t this the perfect example of a ‘neutral universe’

So getting back to taboo words like ‘cunt’. Who ordained it to be offensive? Because intrinsically it’s not offensive at all. It can be used in an offensive way, much the same as how you direct many words to offend, for example, take the word ‘fat’; I can call you a ‘fat person’ and if you are fat, then logically you shouldn’t be offended, but depending on your conditioned sensitivity, you may be offended, and the ‘fat’ word sounds offensive.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not advocating the indiscriminate use of such words, as a descriptive substitute for a lack of a better word, or as is common among people lacking a varied vocabulary, by just randomly and consistently placing it in a sentance—that’s pathetically boring—as would any repetitive word be. But, for fuck’s sake, sometimes a cunt of a word has just as much frigging merit as any other descriptive word that other priggish pricks prefer to use.

Back to the basic point I’m trying to make: the universe, our world, or whatever your concept of reality is—it is neutral. There is nothing intrinsically good or bad about anything, but our thinking has made it so.

So...I’ll fuck off now, and leave you cunts to decide the merits of my argument for yourselves.