Skip to main content

Easter Poem (with my 90 year old homegirl Mary)

 

Easter Poem (with my 90 year old homegirl Mary)

 

When one is desperate

One is not much fun

It’s hard to make small talk

When you’re desperate

When you don’t have enough to eat

When you have run out of money

Note I don’t contract when I talk

It’s hard to be entertaining company

Other than the car crash

People like to watch car crashes

They like to watch what’s left after a car crash

Brain juice on the road

Broken corpses

Blood lust

Just like they loved to watch public hangings

The guillotine they all cheered

When people were killed

They jeered the condemned

They like the spectacle of death

A social death is quite similar

To a physical death

They like to watch that death too

Someone broken

Someone beaten down by public opinion

Baying in the marketplace for blood

That’s human beings

& we forget that

& we talk about yunno

Progressive & humanitarian values

& all that kind of stuff

Sounds good in a meme

Sounds good in a press release

But for most people

I wouldn’t trust em

As far as I could throw em

Do you know the feeling

Of having to beg for help?

From someone who’s thicker than you are?

& can’t follow a logical sequence of reasoning?

It’s tiresome

Was that what it was like with Christ & Pilate?

Or was that what it was like with Christ & the Rabbis?

Reasoning with those who are thicker than you

But have the POWER to KILL you

(duologue) Me: “You think he didn’t defend himself?”

(Mary): “No”

“Ah…

 

Interesting”

 

Wow Yeah!...

 

… for me that’s the most frustrating thing

When someone’s ripped you off

& denied you

& made life Hell for you

& you’ve gotta somehow beg them

& they can’t understand that

It’s your life on the line

& they’ve stolen your money

(duologue) Mary: “but India… India”

“India?...

Take your time…

India & Britain you mean?”

“Before Britain”

“India before Britain you mean?”

“Krishna”

“Jesus & Krishna are they same people aren’t they?...

The same spirit?”

Mary: “(laughs) Yes...”

 

Every last supper I am born

I was born on a Holy Thursday

& every Easter I am betrayed

Every Easter I am sacrificed

(duologue) Mary: “I visited Jesus after he died”

“Yeah, well that’s a different thing altogether”

“He took me out of the Earth

Out of space”

 

“… pretty good mate…

Pretty good…”



 

 

Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Apology for an evil word (draft)

  Apology for an evil word   by Malachi Doyle   I wrote/drew/painted this art book in Respekt for the child soldiers in Australia the British Empire AmiKKKa & of course Momma Afrika The French German Italian Dutch Spanish Empires Jesus Asia The Middle East South America Central America The Carribbean The Pacific Islands The former USSR countries The former Yugoslavian countries… My Nation’s & the world’s Asylum Seekers Child Detention Centres & the World’s poor country city neglected homeless  abused persecuted ignored ridiculed dismissed forgotten the murdered & raped mutilated totured  the beaten those who suffer the effects of Authoritarian & ‘soft’ Tyrannies skooling shitstems & other corrupt institutions Corporations in short the Vampires who suck “Earth Mother’s Women’s Child”rens’ blood,   I can’t express how I don’t wanna eat I have lost my appetite I wish ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Win ugly

  Win ugly I win ugly for some bloody reason I win ugly Life’s like footy Playin into the wind Some days you act like you wish it was over Some days you get the word from the coach & you take it in your stride Though you know ur only D grade Who thought you could play ruck rover & play a ruddy blinder Who thought you had it in ya? Not even ur mother Where did that come from? For you to walk like a king who knew you could sing? About pawning ur weddin ring When ur alone You ain’t nothin but alone Just don’t scam yourself Though u can’t get any help Yes I win ugly I like it in the wet Like a 10 year old boy Drawing with a stick in the dirt Go in hard & you don’t get hurt But a wise man once scribbled The hard is overcome by the soft Like stone in water Like watching a child’s first steps One day in the sun Feelin so privileged to have been there How’d you get so lucky? Ya win ugly Ya win ugly Ya win ugly Worth the price of admission To this valley of tears Coz every now ...
Post a Comment
Read more

In short, sharing versus selfishness

  In short, sharing versus selfishness   I have heard about The Yolngu people & gasped & sighed & dreamed & with my kite Tacked with & against the wind; Here in Dja Dja Wurrung country, Returning, Solitude for the Yolngu people Is prohibited It’s reason of ‘sorcery’ Offered Pride & closed heartedness Stunting & ending wisdom Without love, So much the better is Living communally on Country, The sounds of Nature: Birds animals water frogs Wind trees & bushes Yarnin & laughter: Relaxed, Part OF country, Not straining adrift to Examine & stand apart, & so, I write here Amongst friends, The sounds of The sitting room Food prepared, The birds the frogs A rabbit to be Air rifle shot & eaten People walkin & talkin & A sneeze The click tick Of finished oyster shells In the fireplace Chewing noises Pottery, Life in good Company Cooperation ...
Post a Comment
Read more