Colours in the Waiting Line

Hey! Yeah, all of you’s waiting,
The colours mixed, so listen,
I’m about to tell what’s happening,
Across the streets of Auburn.

Over there! That car, see?!
Yeah, the yellow one,
Woah! What a cool M3!
Should be heaps of fun!

Back in line we keep sighing,
This ballad: a time waste,
For our energy keeps draining,
Come on! Our lunch to taste.

Two minutes left of the agony,
“Next in line!” “Yay!”
I’ll make a colourful symphony,
Finished! I have to pay?

Cash only? You gotta be kiddin’!
EFTPOS next to that centre,
Where? There! It’s not hidden!
Walking and walking then I enter.

So, you see, it’s near closing time,
And all I have is a card,
7/11 cash-out with that chime,
Returned to find a guard.

“Mate, we’re definitely closed!”
“Seriously! After all that?!”
Stepped forward, muscles exposed,
Went back to my flat.

This story ends with a sweat,
Job, at last, completed,
Many colours I ‘ave met,
All this is already tweeted!

Thursday, 21st of February 2013


Sestina for the Forgotten

Halt! Listen to their whispers and feel their hope
Shattered as they lie limbless under mass graves,
Erase your eyes from weeps and endure sorrow,
Honour their long lost lives and roar for freedom,
Tell me, why these women laid near the children?
What have become of us as we observe in silence?

Their screams rose as they burnt, deafening silence,
No media coverage and no one to share their hope,
Villages razed and innocent lives lost their freedom,
They were once in peace playing with the children,
Soon soldiers in black arrived to dig copious graves,
And today, we remember them and pray in sorrow.

Tell me, have their offspring won over their sorrow?
Or have they indulged in drugs to overcome silence,
Owing to false banners and the so-called freedom,
Selling their bodies to traffickers with the children,
Maybe a few fenings or pennies for a future’s hope,
Yet, more bodies pile up on top of rotten graves.

In the news: “The Forgotten’s discovered graves”,
Concealed words disclosed for the souls of sorrow,
Voices heard, books written, survivors lived in hope,
For a better future; for a lovely life without silence,
For new ideas and miracles; for their lovely children,
For their identity; for their faith; for their freedom.

Minorities today still seek their promised freedom,
Ancestors were the same, but betrayed into graves,
Fought even if unarmed and were forever in silence,
Wounds we are yet to replace for dreams and hope,
Still, we need to commemorate our past’s sorrow,
To enjoy our fated future inherited by our children.

We must learn and teach our past to our children,
Such that they keep moving forward to freedom,
And resurrect the long lost lives in the mass graves,
And teach them symbols of peace, love, and hope,
And to reach out and speak for those in silence,
And to create a safe to lock-up the ancient sorrow.

Silence! Listen to the graves sing a beautiful melody
To sorrow over those whose freedom is forever lost
And to share the children their love, hope, and peace.

Tuesday, 5th of February 2013