Count But
I have a way
To count all day
Or is it that
The night now rather way
The way of my mind
Forever in time
Is to consider every cause
The precedent
Of every consequence yet
But to account for myself
As so evil as if
Alike to what if
Which was because of
That it
That those effects had a future
I hope is well ending
Are when now effected
By the past directed
The deeds in my command
So get it that terror is banned
Through being acknowledged and fanned
Minded and winded
And in love real bind
Will it be real
To rather
Account for your self
By which ever direction in time
Your mind finds the larger
Fear of the find
Yet while taking the precaution
Of never being certain
That when open wide
Be truth’s curtain
Never caught short of
The cost of
To Dream is
No loss with
While cause follows precedent
Is that before accounts for ever after effect
So better than to mistake a count
Just do not
Know but
That does it show
I must
Not yet
Nor once stuff it up
And so account
For an animal self
Mine also
And life to bind
Just in case in time
Our future might find
While those without faith
Who’ve imagined the past into their future
As though they’d cause it be happier
Seek to force me into their mind
And theirs into mine
Well just in case
That had been taking place
Why I’ll account for that also
As mine
And therefore be fine
For Who Might Need To Know It Is So
I thing about
What might happen around
The knowledge I spread to the sound
Of who needs to know
What this is I have found
Is that those whom stole of
The want to know
Without equitable work to show
Are who never quite grasp
What exactly it is that they know
But that is just so
Since the other hand is finer in flow
By like I knowing to just let it go
That quality of knowledge
Pouring in need not soiling
But just continue on in
The flow of time
Of work to know
And want only to work
For the extra we give
For free in
The work is
The measure of
How well we are earning
And for Holier
As well as to show
Which will ever be
The first fence to go
Since in time
The message of
Every lesson fine
Is this only
That who learns well it
The lesson of time
Might learn also
Not to fear why knowledge
Cannot always be mine
But by that I can let go
And so know
Truth falls fine and perfect
Only upon
Who works for it
Who earned of and paid for
And who needed to know of
Will be who is next to let go
Without fear of not knowing
While who hangs on too tight
Might only ever hang onto
The worst things alright
And we’ve all got some of that roe
Best left to who works it
For everything is for someone to know
The Cards Were Falling
The cards have been sorted
Into suits shorted
By spills of water
Upon the bench they rested
In suit sequences
Left with me by a family
Showing many signs of
Illnesses of dietary abuses
Being forced upon women and men
Within Australia’s prisons
And showed clearly much fear of
Their own skills as cooks
Almost entirely unable
To prepare any meal for a table
Most especially not
When in view of
Anybody in knowledge of
How in prison the cooking is shoved
Upon who receives it named a privilege
To become abused into imposing upon
The rest of the prisons population
Psychological abuses
By what food who has got
And who imagined what while
Preparing of
And these cards I have got
Read for such love is of
Eight of hearts
Then seven King nine
Three then the Ace
Four next whose disgrace
Then the Queen’s face
Heart’s Jack is next
Then five six two ten
While in spades
It all starts with the King
Then five six ten Queen
Jack three nine two
Seven eight six Ace
Diamonds in red
Have seven to begin with
The Queen nine ten
Six three five two Jack
Four King eight Ace
Clubs again start with King
Ten Jack Queen nine eight
Five Ace two three seven
Four six is it
This the reading of what
Was left behind by accident
When it happened that
A mixed race family
Of former prison inmates had
Stayed a few weeks at
My place
And of the food they left with me
The meat more porky
But many the beef pies
And vegetables the solanum family
Of capsicum tomato and potatoes
All alike in blood to tobacco
Pumpkin and cucumber
Eggplant and zucchini
Those foods which grow too easily
So long as the water supply
Is not too teasy
Yet what else was left behind
Was a gingerbread house of my own kind
Given twice to their child
By two trips to the charities
Yet he afraid to eat mild
For being blamed of its style
Of white icing supply
For preference had he
To a chocolate addiction
At five
Already telling me
That the work belonging to he
Is to let the bad guys
Blame he
For by his own life
Will their ends be strife
The Story
I have a friend
Whose been making herself
Into a story
Of forgiving the world
Of having exposed all our children
To drug using
While me
I have been forgiving
The world of D.V.
And have these things been
In exposure to children
Prevented between
She and me
A black Maori
And white Aborigine
Both working to ensure of
The safety for children
In having had our own skills of providing for
Denied too long to
Care for the fears of how long the cost is
Since the cost of such separation
Between mother and child
Might best be never defined
Without exceptional pride
For our stories are turning out just right
With the structure internal
To the human mind
Being turned inside out to
Prove why
None ever again need might
Any want to so expose their own child
To furnish with why
The food is so caught in this bind
Thanking eternal
These child
Have we also now to eat here
Fish chilli and rice
Coconut and peanuts
Vegetarian feeds and
Coffee vans for the homeless
And the lettuce is alright
Brassica alike
But let which in whose story
Never unfold its device
Neither stinging bite
For the chocolate milk be for
You and me to
Depend upon for sanity
When nobody else around be
Believing in being alive without
A poison to find
We can all be blamed alike
For whatever anybody likes
So long as we are who never
Upon blaming thrives
For the Ants in their way have
Made their day that
These stories are theirs before even
Becoming our own to have walked and flown
Of lives lived fully known
The Gap
What gap is that
The politicians are at
That they wanted closing
Of to become their fact
As though all the efforts
To attain equal distribution
Of society’s tax resources
Belong to who’s voted in
Rather than who worked to gain
Equal health and education
So politicians better watch out
To find what gap closing
Is really all about
When the gap is between
Aboriginal and other Australians
Perhaps the real gap is in notions
Of what stories to sustain
For real cultural gain
So listen well
For the gap keeps on closing
No matter what anybody is supposing
Closing in on our heads
As we approach its widening jaw
For all gaps are never
At the seams of what life is for
And the real gap is between
The rich and the poor
To own a real story
So find which one is it
Your own love is for
While those politicians have imagined
Perhaps we Aborigines know a door
Between stories worth telling
And hateful blood and gore
But is it necessary
In invasion’s defiance too poor
To let in all the invader’s
Fears about having invaded us
And what they have caused
By promoting escape artist’s store
As the real story for
Closing the gap
That just has to happen
All of us know well will be sure
The Unknown Poem
This is the story
Of things unknown
Of life not flown
Yet but neither thrown
Of somebody’s girlfriend
And her other friend
And then the other bloke who
Is best never to know of
And how they might be connected
To a recent death
Of somebody named after
What they sold by ripping off the best
That is unless always mistaken
Is that this nest was not yet baked on
And of the processing of recycling
There’s a story not poor but frightening
For who waited around for
And drove down to town for
Is receiving exactly their share of
What is nobody’s retribution
But that of honest reputations
Disarmed by strange allegations
In this situation
Not caused so by
The ripping off of
This the Aboriginal culture
Behind this nation
Of every great Australian
At Batchelor Aboriginal Institute
What joy to experience
No need regard in the class
Of being its only intelligence
For at this institute is
Intelligence with all of us
By being Aboriginal indigenous
While in other tertiary institutes
We are the real brains
Enrolled in the course
Engaged in the discourse
And other students lean on us
Without recognition of what
Proving the standards too poor
Of that in the mainstream taught
Tertiary educated
Other sorts of Australians
And all of the schools
Without traditional orientation
In the streams of two way education
Might the worth of the world
Be passing by in the swirls
With factors of faith in
Most social institutions
Delivery of schooling
Having been in relations
Their own pens disproving
Yet with Northern Territory’s
Land ownership base
Enabling difference in Batchelor’s case
No such thing can be said of
This institute’s acceptance of grace
The Aboriginal Institute
Begun at Batchelor
Proving we Aborigines
To be who is causing
The best schooling standards
Across the whole place
Now named Australia
What a clever country
This place ours safe
Word Strings
Word string meaning
Intention best believed in
For if you try to read in
Any other meaning
Who strung those words will have one day heard
And theirs to write again
The way that digs you in
Down under done
By what you own win won
Accidentally Language
Accidental ignorance
Of English grammar nonsense
Ain’t what Aboriginal use of
English word string sets is
By clear mastery
Of word uses
To place English words in
To Aboriginal standards
Unlike those in England
Yet no less than perfect
No less than resilient
No less than academic
Where the academy is
Real language indigenous
So when by accident
Aboriginal English
Manifests real language
Let land be blessed
Retrieval
What happened then
Can you remember
What will to you now
Real memory bring
Which sort of Dreaming
Was it life through believed in
Then when
Only your self might have forgotten
While your Spirit live strong in
That put you under my friend
But nothing you done
Is how you won
For when not that you want
Neither willing truth of
Your family birth and conscience
But of who abused culture
And how it connects
Perhaps by hot air held bare
In photo like frames less rare
That we wish such of the future to bear
Thus remember no more than your share
Whose act was it to know then
That stuck onto the dreams of your own
Causing memory yet unknown
To need retrieving
For who in were you always
Truthfully believing
Whom were you always affirming
To whose tomorrow will fear be boring
And to whom really belongs your
Real true life
Very own
To have and belong truly known
Dreaming
Is forever your own self to believe in
