Friday, January 17, 2014

The Spectacle of Silence.

"Operation Sovereign Borders"
It has a fascist ring about it
Public interest not of concern
A military solution
To a human problem
That sounds like an intervention
And once it's military
We, the public, are on a need to know basis
And, frankly, we don't need to know
Except that this is Australia 2014
Not South Africa 1974
(comparisons have been made)
So human rights go out the window
Like keeping children in prison
Torturing and detaining ligitimate
Asylum seekers in offshore prisons
You out there voted for these cretins
Heeding their call to arms
"Australia is being invaded!"
It has been for forty thousand years
And the locals have learned to accept
Waves of invaders as traders
But not this lot because the immenent threat
Is the most visible
Make it invisible and it goes away
Yet the stigma stays
The stain upon our national character
That we don't treat these people
Like the human beings they are
We are too busy
Digging into the guts of this terra nullius
Scraping out whatever we can find
Wealth beyond imagining
Tie that into terrorism
And anything becomes illegal
Even broadening your mind

© shaun patrick green 2013

Thursday, January 9, 2014

If You Fall.

It is a simple matter of trust
If you fall I will pick you up
I have arms and legs that work
They are there at your every turn
If you feel weak and can't go on
I can carry you further along
We made a vow to be together
No matter how bad the weather
So whether in snow, wind or frost
If you fall I will pick you up

© shaun patrick green 2013

Dinner Party.

An over-seasoned evening drags
Its dead legs toward midnight
As conversation among strangers
Dies an even slower death
Kebabs burned on the Webber
Long since politely picked over
Salads fester in decorative bowls
While dessert remnants attract ants
Beer and wine empties rack up
In a kitchen corner as if asking
For something hard and heavy
To be thrown their way
Faces stunned by awkward silences
Search for something to say
With stars pensive overhead
Like the eyes of a bored audience
Please God let something happen
Maybe the BBQ could explode
And send the jock on the balcony
Screaming down in flames
To the unforgiving carpark below
Or perhaps the high maintenance
Trophy wife could choke
On a chicken bone
Ending her vacuous life with
Ever smaller gasps for air
While the ambulance crew
Drive in circles in search
Of this sepulchral address
No, I think the host, having devised
This tortuous event should provide
The guests with suitable entertainment
He should disappear for a moment
Then emerge in a maroon dressing gown
Which he dramatically whips open
Announces his desire to be a woman
And with a carving knife severs his penis
In front of all and sundry
Then, at least, we can leave
Slightly drunk and bemused
While he bleeds out
No doubt, we will still feel hungry

© shaun patrick green 2013