Free / Flow

is today the day i’m going to catch the light

fly out into the universe, bring back some truth

travelling safely like an older, wiser person

someone i’ve never met before

growing newer, brighter times

in smaller and smaller ways

moment by microsecond

connecting to what is

praying i love you, to a universe

in slow acts of dedication

never quite blooming

never quite expiring?


it’s in the moving

in the way i move


my eyes wide with surprise

bursting through the underbrush

into the heartfelt beauty

of being in life with


all this space tinged with impossibility

and the steady, gentle echo of my tread

in step with what will be


split me into a zillion pieces

then watch me flow

back home, to this place

free

In: Truth

Breathe in
more truth than you ever could
imagine.
Call it all in.

Wait.
Listen. Wait.

And on the exhale?
You can fly.

Anything is possible.
Let me be
infinity.

Don’t think
I know how to.
I can
just
almost
probably
see.

I know
where it might lead.

Feel everything…
even fear.

Allegiance

I don’t seek your power
I can’t eat your hate _
It’s tasting kind of sour
The way you’ve sealed my fate
But I’m a new beginning
A mix of all that’s true
I am one that’s ending
The pain we all go through
When we divide and conquer
The lovers and the land
Have you stopped to wonder
What you don’t understand
Is maybe the beginnings
Of cracks between our worlds?
Dance into the middle
Where you can glimpse these curls
Won’t you come and join me?
So we can celebrate
That time in our history
Where we’ve wrought right from hate
Nodding to the future
As lives that we might like
Unity’s our culture
And I don’t want to fight
Instead I want to grow us
Right out into the light
Life is gonna show us
Those stars shine bright at night

*

Prevailing force

Some claim to know the will of heaven.
Today, I'm waiting for the rain to fall.
Dense clouds fly in from the west to leaven
Dysgenic populations, so they're called.

Fettered by settler colonisation,
Midst appeals for the right to remain free.
The world responds in tergiversations.
Old man casts his oranges to the sea.

Mineral rights, land theft and free water,
Lusts that raze earth 'til young lives cannot fruit,
Displace generations with blood-drenched tears.
The sorry legacy of men in suits.

Foes in torrents doth wield prevailing force.
Pre-emptive strikes simply par for the course.

This poem is my response to a recent podcast interview on local radio with Australian Palestinian, Nasser Mashni. His stories recounting personal experiences of life growing up in Melbourne are skilfully interwoven with bewildering depictions of daily life for Palestinian inhabitants of the occupied territories and the continually-expanding Israeli state. Even with a map, it’s impossible to comprehend the situation via the populist diatribe that floods our media. For clarity’s sake, I highly recommend a listen. https://www.3cr.org.au/radicalaustralia/episode-202002121600/nasser-mashni

The old man throwing oranges into the sea appears in a story told by Sara Roy in her 2007 book, Failing Peace. Her idea of de-development to describe the impact of Israeli occupation over generations has impacted my thinking on this topic for almost a decade.

I wish every human being understood that the colonisations are still underway across the world, nowhere is immune, no categorisation of people who can’t be defined as expendable, no matter how many times we lament this or that previous outcome. If there are resources, if there is land, if there is water, you can be sure that over-the-top prestidigitators waving big guns in the faces of civilians will be used to control whatever they think you have until eternity.

If we want the prevailing force to be otherwise we have to demand it.

Bip

A special memory I would like to share with you…

He was truly delightful and made me giggle a lot, but mostly I was awestruck by his performance, watching from the wings. His old mate Rudolf was there too and I met him, but I did not understand the significance of that until this whole event was a distant memory.

I sometimes tell people I grew up on the stage, but they can’t picture what I mean until I share with them the odd memory such as this. It is possible to be both very open with people and deeply secretive. I am.

marcel-bipObviously he inspired my blog photo. More importantly this memory represents something about me that I have never let anyone mess with. It is elusive, it is not “on-call” nor greatly on display, but it points to my very essence, to what has proved consistent throughout the years. It lives at the wellspring of my joy.

As a small child, I discovered one of the best ways to guard something intangible is to never let it descend into the realm of language, whether it be spoken, written or thoughts/mental dialogue. I can mention this now because, like a tree that has already grown, I have already taken form.

Everything about me that deviates from this natural course is merely a performance in some way related to survival. Do not judge your inconsistencies. After a couple of years of investigating “the shadow” and allowing it to come into the light, as it were, I can honestly say that it was/is chock full of really good stuff. After the initial shock and displeasure, I find it is the place where so many wonderful, unique and heartfelt aspects of me are born, live and die, only to be reborn again.

If, even for one minute, you’ve ever thought you have spare parts to who you are, things that could be improved about your basic nature, I beg to differ. You only have things that could be discovered and embraced about your basic nature. Everything else is just a performance.

Obviously I am not composing a Dummies Guide to Being A Conformist in this life.

marcel-autograph

Metaphorical Mountain Climbing

It was only when I finally accepted the reality of my situation within the dominant paradigm that things started to really shift and rearrange themselves in my internal landscape. It occurred once I gave voice to the understanding that I would never be fully acceptable regardless of whether I followed every rule laid out before me or I ignored them, whether I shut up or spoke up, whether I was naughty or nice, whether I loved or hated. Sure, the language and particular brand of oppression and punishment varied, but the established and reinforced image of “unacceptability of everything associated with Robyn because she must make amends for the terrible misfortune of not being born white” was overwhelmingly persistent.

This is not an idea I picked up via fanciful and naive notions combined with a misunderstanding about society, rather it’s a perspective that was deliberately drummed (or beaten) into me by various people and circumstances throughout my life, such as the White Australia policy intended. The actuality of my being in this society, in this time, in this body, with this mind and animated by this spirit is considered to be some kind of offense to creation, or likened as such, by many a supreme white god during a brief moment of you’ve-got-a-chip-on-your-shoulder righteous indignation and hold-the-liniment-while-I-deliver a tongue-lashing clarity. And I’m talking about the non-racist supreme white gods, don’t get them confused with those other types(!).

but when we are silent
we are still afraid

So it is better to speak
remembering
we were never meant to survive
—Audrey Lorde, A litany for survival

I’m not going to gloss this…it hurt. To fully accept the level of oppression you have been living under when you are not literally running for your life every day, will likely plunge a person into some kind of temporary depression or anger, grief, whatever. It hurt like I didn’t think I would survive it, and to be honest I am not so sure I did. Eventually, it did stop hurting so acutely, as anyone who’s been through anything can tell you. Once the shock and devastation subsided, after the tears and rage exhausted themselves, beyond all that pain and self-pity and many miles past the “why can’t it be different?” phase – I began to understand simple things.

If everything I do is already tainted because it is done by me, it follows that I am free to be and do as I please. Let that taint be my insignia.

It surprises me that there is no more worrying about avoiding potential consequences and no more wasting my energy on frivolous attempts to be understood, welcomed or appreciated. There are no more external masters to please as they have already proven that they cannot be pleased by the likes of me. My days are no longer populated with “Yessirs” unless I totally accept that behaviour in the moment as my choice and my honour. More importantly, I am now in a position to set my own standards and to judge, to draw boundaries and define borders, to erase and replace them at will, but never to be judged. No, I absolutely do not confer upon my oppressors the right to judge me.

It is inevitable in a divide and conquer approach to discrimination, that I would have no peers, so who would be left to judge me in any meaningful way? Of course, I am not oblivious, all manner of people will have a crack at passing judgement on their fellow humans, but these judgements are well below the standard and level of humanity to which I aspire, thus rendering them entirely irrelevant within the context of my life. Similarly, my judgements are irrelevant to rural families, sporting heroes and every single one of the political candidates in the recent election, to point out a few. We are each operating in entirely different reality frameworks.

The mental image I hold for this set of experiences is akin to climbing a mountain through all kinds of weather, until the moment you break through the cloud barrier into pure sunlight and clear air. At this point, we become invisible to those who remain at the base of the mountain.

I posit that there is no greater gift for freedom than to be considered utterly inconsequential and therefore to be consistently overlooked.

I ask you in all sincerity, is there a greater advantage to the cause for freedom than spectacularly failing to inspire people to want to use me or enslave me to serve their own agendas?

My measures and markers for success are no longer dependent on the persistence of white supremacy as a social norm, and in this manner the race war within has ended and the human journey has begun.

*

No

image

There is no place for me here
Watching the evil accumulate
Turn back on itself and reproduce
Exponentially, overloading the senses
Until some days I wish it would all simply split apart –
The entire cosmos
The malignancy of civilised existence
An abhorrent, recurrent, shock

Consume, consume, gorge and regurgitate
Consume in ever-increasing cycles
That distinctive taint
Our instinctive taste for
Racing towards extinction
Oh! It’s not happening fast enough for you?

So you’ll bomb them into submission
Punish them into collusion with your
Violently warped illusions
Make them strive beyond reason
Until interdependence is banished as treason
Exiled from from the commonly conscious
And once again relegated to the home
Of foolish myths for the idealogues

Perhaps the only human way to experience
A fleeting time-speck of control
Over the magnificence of existence
Is to bring all that is life
All that opposes your every whim
To it’s earliest devastation

The darkness is accumulating
Many notches on the strop
The era of the whipping-boy
Is alive on every street
I’ve got a hopeless wish
There might come a day where
Humankind will understand
This is not freedom.