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out on my own

 






out of the shallows



i lost touch

with my fears

& flew blind out into the night

exile

nowhere i'd ever been before


but found new doors


the more we bottle things up

the more inevitable bloodshit bloodshed


these days

we're all presumed guilty

then forever tarnished


the con


--


takin about jokes with blakfella

an old French saying with a 92 year old from post War: "no problem mate"

what has been lost

in the singular i dentity wars


bullshit


one needs to acknowledge

all that we are

not only the bits we prefer


otherwise quit poetry

& go into advertising


--


our lineage is mixed


now here

we must move beyond our ancestors

coz we're elders now

us Fauves

us wild beasts


liberating our spirits

from masks shields & swords


give me the poet's pen

man's only protection

against Mammon's warlords


--


us blokes & sheilas on the street

gotta say gday!

friend or foe

the basis of moral philosophy


--


but back to poetry

fuck ur infantalizingdesensitizing trigger warnings!


as a 70 year old migrant poet said to me


"it's precisely the point of poetry & art:

to give u a jolt!"







Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2026.

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