Writing Down Under
Writing resources for Australia and New Zealand.
Shakatoah
Shakatoah sit by fire
Shadows dance, cruel menace
Baby daughter on lap
Smoke from fires no longer warm
Eyes cast down.
Sleep little one, while you can
Dream dreams of leaping joy, freedom.
Awake you are captive.
Warrior come back to teepee
Eyes blazing
Inflamed by bloodlust
Rape of villages
He take his woman
Brutal
Her body wracked, she bear his hatred
Sleep Shakatoah, while you can
Speak to ancestors of quiet dignity.
Awake you are nothing.
And many generations pass.
Shari sits in her armchair
Shadows in her heart
Alone, lonely
Baby daughter in her crib
Soft pinks, plush rugs
Dollies in the corner
Sleep little one, while you can
Dream dreams of freedom, achievement
Awake you are nothing.
Her husband comes late from the office
Impotent with guilt and resentment
Smelling of whisky and cigarettes
She aches with defeat
Lifts her eyes one more time in hope.
Bears his rejection
Sleep Shari, while you can.
Tell your children of a new world to come
Awake you are beaten.
And many generations pass.
Shadows dance, cruel menace
Baby daughter on lap
Smoke from fires no longer warm
Eyes cast down.
Sleep little one, while you can
Dream dreams of leaping joy, freedom.
Awake you are captive.
Warrior come back to teepee
Eyes blazing
Inflamed by bloodlust
Rape of villages
He take his woman
Brutal
Her body wracked, she bear his hatred
Sleep Shakatoah, while you can
Speak to ancestors of quiet dignity.
Awake you are nothing.
And many generations pass.
Shari sits in her armchair
Shadows in her heart
Alone, lonely
Baby daughter in her crib
Soft pinks, plush rugs
Dollies in the corner
Sleep little one, while you can
Dream dreams of freedom, achievement
Awake you are nothing.
Her husband comes late from the office
Impotent with guilt and resentment
Smelling of whisky and cigarettes
She aches with defeat
Lifts her eyes one more time in hope.
Bears his rejection
Sleep Shari, while you can.
Tell your children of a new world to come
Awake you are beaten.
And many generations pass.
Sweet Fool
I knew you once in aeons past
when I cupped your soul-face in my ethereal hand
and promised – Sweet Fool,
to love you for all time.
Incarnate we became then,
sucked into the mortal vortex – torn asunder.
Yet through this earthly cadence,
where discord hums a patchy tune across my bow,
I searched in fiery torment.
We stood amidst the jigsaw then,
scattered fragments, shattered dreams –
the splinters of life too deep to see through.
You, trapped by walls of history;
me, flating still, not anchored where I ought.
And I have danced a dance with Death –
not happy with a twirl He asked me twice,
his hot breath closing in upon my ragged breast.
Yet He, exhausted, bowed out first,
knowing I had not finished yet…
Not yet. I had not found you.
And as I gazed across the moors of time one unspecial day,
through these immutable mists I saw you rising.
In the mirror of my mind your spirit formed.
I knew you then.
Ah, yes, I knew you.
Yet though we danced a timeless dance,
you had lost your soul to this world,
not forever; perhaps not for long.
But Time, you said, we answer to.
Time, Sweet Fool, I said, is Lucifer’s jester.
But passingly I held you
and no garment such as this had clothed me in its care.
No Solomon’s song drew near to these abandoned depths.
For once, lost in your passion, you found me...
and as your spirit grazed mine, I knew this would be all.
It is enough.
I cupped your face
in my shaking hands
and promised in my heart, Sweet Fool –
for you would not hear me –
that I would love you for all time.
You said goodbye then,
not knowing what you severed.
Still, wrapped around your soul
there clung a tiny child – and I understood,
he wielded the sword.
Now in the darkest hour of night,
the Witching Hour of grim delight –
amid your dreams I hover close above your creaking bed
to watch your body shiver
With some ancient remembrance of a soul embraced.
when I cupped your soul-face in my ethereal hand
and promised – Sweet Fool,
to love you for all time.
Incarnate we became then,
sucked into the mortal vortex – torn asunder.
Yet through this earthly cadence,
where discord hums a patchy tune across my bow,
I searched in fiery torment.
We stood amidst the jigsaw then,
scattered fragments, shattered dreams –
the splinters of life too deep to see through.
You, trapped by walls of history;
me, flating still, not anchored where I ought.
And I have danced a dance with Death –
not happy with a twirl He asked me twice,
his hot breath closing in upon my ragged breast.
Yet He, exhausted, bowed out first,
knowing I had not finished yet…
Not yet. I had not found you.
And as I gazed across the moors of time one unspecial day,
through these immutable mists I saw you rising.
In the mirror of my mind your spirit formed.
I knew you then.
Ah, yes, I knew you.
Yet though we danced a timeless dance,
you had lost your soul to this world,
not forever; perhaps not for long.
But Time, you said, we answer to.
Time, Sweet Fool, I said, is Lucifer’s jester.
But passingly I held you
and no garment such as this had clothed me in its care.
No Solomon’s song drew near to these abandoned depths.
For once, lost in your passion, you found me...
and as your spirit grazed mine, I knew this would be all.
It is enough.
I cupped your face
in my shaking hands
and promised in my heart, Sweet Fool –
for you would not hear me –
that I would love you for all time.
You said goodbye then,
not knowing what you severed.
Still, wrapped around your soul
there clung a tiny child – and I understood,
he wielded the sword.
Now in the darkest hour of night,
the Witching Hour of grim delight –
amid your dreams I hover close above your creaking bed
to watch your body shiver
With some ancient remembrance of a soul embraced.
Across the Water
I’d like to take a walk with you
one blustery English day,
and lead you back beneath the gums
right here in Moreton Bay.
And if a year or ten should pass,
you find yourself alone,
just call my name or pen a line
to find yourself a home.
You don’t believe in God, I know,
no cosmic force above.
But look into my eyes my friend;
You’ll see them filled with love.
These spirits strong and sure and sweet
will watch you leave our shores,
and follow you amid your dreams
despite our human flaws.
For in the spirit world, you know,
there’s no such thing as time.
A heart stilled in the human breast
still beats in the divine.
We took a fragment of our lives
and shared it with you friend,
and though it seems a pause in time
eternity’s its end.
one blustery English day,
and lead you back beneath the gums
right here in Moreton Bay.
And if a year or ten should pass,
you find yourself alone,
just call my name or pen a line
to find yourself a home.
You don’t believe in God, I know,
no cosmic force above.
But look into my eyes my friend;
You’ll see them filled with love.
These spirits strong and sure and sweet
will watch you leave our shores,
and follow you amid your dreams
despite our human flaws.
For in the spirit world, you know,
there’s no such thing as time.
A heart stilled in the human breast
still beats in the divine.
We took a fragment of our lives
and shared it with you friend,
and though it seems a pause in time
eternity’s its end.
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