A:Nungarrayi=one of me:didi=irish for tit:tdot=I don’t know but:Copas=my mothers mothers maiden name

Not Funny Work

 

Been working

Now some years long way

For to prove strong

The song for today

Is never needing to be

Of racial abuse to stay

Yet also still and permanent too

That stolen generations

Is not what just racial abuse did do

But is a seperate issue

More connected with land value

Of more serious pressure

Upon us all to bear down

Upon who ever let the fact around

The idea that stealing children

Was the way of money’s ground

Never had any real origin upon this land is what I have found

And what I have proved

To you if only you knew

In my own way true

No matter what shade I am to you

Is that any indigenous children

Still in this year (2007 this poem written)

At risk of being stolen

Are who

Are so at risk

Only if

Known of to be indigenous

By the police

And this fact is proven

To be regardless of skin colour

Yet in full regard of

Police attempts to prevent

True culture

Loving the land ever

The work this took to prove

You can never disprove

For neither skin colour based belief

Or the stealing of any children

Ever had any place

Nor any wealth

Of Eternity’s gate

Expect that of the fate

Of those whom in did collude

With our indigenous innocence attempts to disprove

By hate against children

Whose skin is a different shade

For the trick’s name

Is a war disguised as peace game

Of famine lame

And pestilance tame

So remember ever no child is to blame

For the state of what became

Of childhood’s fate

Because regardless of colour of skin

Is every child blacker within

And need it have been

The work of a mother

Abandoned in childhood’s state

That proved this is

No game but serious

Because I did

To end with

Discovering every accusation

Against for money

The full real causation

Not funny

 

 

The harder yarn that goes with

 

I’ll tell you because

You are adult enough

A responsible man

True to cause in love

Who seems to have

Experienced

Similarly

To my own life story

Perhaps enough to believe me

About what is happening

Among Aborigines

 

If ever any one of us

Whitefellas who love

Our true black ancestry

Reach out with a hand

Willing of course

And without depreciating

Black man’s own self

Those blackfellas who believe in us

Are being tortured in feeling

And mental processes of Dreaming

Through the physical depravity

That torture of sodomy

Far further than

The rest of the black community

 

So why then is a question

We who can

Must ask

We have have already begun

To face the task

Of real reconciliation

Who is doing it that

Those illegal acts

In the name of preventing

Our reconciling of love

Between distant relations

Of the same racial obligation

The same bed

To this land wed

Differing in skin colour

By history’s trajectory

Of managing an invasion

 

And the answer seems to be

That the corrupt

Come in both colours of skin

And are who want to be blaming

The other colour

Yet want to have it both ways

Blaming another for being blacker one way

On one day

And blaming the same for being whiter

Another day in another way

 

The corrupt seem to be

Of a fighting bird story

No doubt in me

About the facts

They are those whose feet

Seldom reach the ground

Who are unlikely to want to walk

For ought but a bridge

Of escaping true obligation

Regardless of which culture they are in

The never landed

Seem to have expanded

Upon any and every

Potential for fault had

They imagined of Australians

Past imperfections

 

There are few among

Whom were ever Australians

Then a few who arrived here feigning Islam

Among those Muslims we invited

One a Persian bird liking Jihad too much

Letting to live here

For that good teaching

There in their hand

Been here now quite some many year

But then came more than we could quarter

And those whom began up a slaughter

In an invasion of Chinese bird men

Well before those from England

Plus them as well

Those all British to fell

Among their own crew

Well before they were grounded here too

And these days as well

I have met the birds who won’t land well

Who come from America

Another of Arabia

And even an African

So from anywhere you please are

These worst of folk being here

Those named in Islam the Shayteen

For they only will believe in

The Devil

 

But why is it our country

Collecting these winged persons

Named Ants when at fear

Is our need to them scare

Is it only that it is rare

For them to truly recognise their own fears

Exist as pleasure in what is unaccountible

Thus is it our need to them scare

Those named Ants when knowing fear

They who hid from us ever

That in their animal self they never

Have been unable to escape our justice

For their way is the bird

In feather they pay us

But truly they are Ants

That might never stop us

No matter from where

They originated

Their true country is the moon’s landing

The moon’s true lack of

Enough gravity

To hold down Human responsibility

As it is ours in Humanity

To pay for the Earth

So it is theirs that the moon

And thus they represent to us

No more than the fears of ever in years

Yet but why are they flocking to Australia

These past few hundred years

And do not spin me their line upon

That it is only this poem they won the right to from

 

Why are they trying

To be fully denying

Of our Aboriginal way here

While they conspire to let

The Indigenous American

Way get ahead yet

 

Have they not yet realised

Or have they but ignorantly

That we are the culture who can

Ensure their demise

Undermine that they fight to win for

Which is none other than

The victory of nothing

Over life

Death is their wish

Upon us

Since they count so by

As though how else

Could it be

That we also survive

Since they know no ant

Had any other means

When of attempting to replicate

The Human mind

 

They are whom have caused

Every atrocity of course

Whose presence is ever

Where the worst of behaviour

Proves them in-Human

And unable to believe in

That Grace of Allah has granted

Of His own Kingdome

Upon us who believe in him

The simplicity of Human kindness

And the fact of their method

Is that they simply can not breath if

They for even one minute believe

That what in any and every

Truly Human believer

Can in believe

Of Faith in Scientific discovery

God will be

But of what is it your own

Way to find He

The singularity of organised energy

Which sustains you and me

And is neither of us

But neither of any of our acquaintance

Even when we

Are fully acquainted

With the shaytan

They who pursue only the imposing

Upon Human children

To never believe

God to be

One

I see that

They did it to you too

Young man

What they have to me

And the difference between you and me

Is my motherhood’s fear

Is ever impossible to decline to believe in

Every medical fact is a point that

My mother hood of biology

Is saving me

By having brought me into the fear

What might they try upon my own children

That I might be culpable at

And this fear my son’s hold dear

Directing me into Islam

Where in a lesson is

So this now mine to give

Having been untowardly educated in

Not to let just any Dream

Be that guiding the mind

But to rather follow a few rules

Of time

Location and

Rhyme

Enabling health better sustained

No matter how hard

The shayteen push us into their grave

When we can accept that path with them

Not of our own fault but

That we were so pushed

By their efforts to escape their own future

Of being birds and insects

Is that we will be forever well breed

By finding our nature in time

To have always been fine

In escorting those bad fighting bird folk

Right down into the pits of their mind

To discover that their real nature

Is that of an ant to find

 

So to follow the Dreamtime

Know that which is your self

And know how to detect

That wrong to trust

And know also

The only dreams unalterable

In your own mind and every

Are of the body’s own death

So if you were pushed into

The behaviour causal to

What pleased the non-believer

Such that you received a warning of death

Then link your own to

That of those who pushed you

Which is no less

Than what every Aborigine must do

And always did

For this our true culture is

 

The proving

That by abusing

Black and white children

And grown men

Only for agreeing

We have no need for

Negative racial discrimination

And live because we believe

In the need to protect

In absolute sense

The sanctity of childhood

These things never can again

That the shayteen steel away

From our mind’s own belief

What with to portray

Themselves as though alike us

Yet while they refute the belief in is true

What was it they did to you

When to me through

By hands born in Townsville too

And abuse of your first love

I have caught them at that fact

Alike to what was done to He who first loved me well that

Yet even now if I could

Do their bidding they suppose I should

Remove Allah’s name

From the deed I have done to protect

All whom shared a similar experience

Of facing them and their passage of hate

Facing what they have caused

In abuse to the Dreamtime

Of our inner most mind

Will it ever be mine

To know no need to fear

For never in denial of Allah

Is that I would

Continue to protect children

Even if I might be forever alone

Since I believe

In life

Eternity will be

Alright

Never again letting near

Any person whose fear

Can undermine this clear idea

We need not trust

Any person only by their appearance

And even if they choose to

Threaten us with

Harm to our children

For mentioning our belief

Is certain in Allah

That only of the truth of nature

Then silence us

In our protection

Still with us will it be

That ever have we

Worked aligned with

The facts of nature

To procreate

That life is