There was a village in a time before the moon entered the skies where trial fighting, magic and the daily life coexisted.
I want to end this year with a look back on my writings and musings throughout the year, marking the first year that I spent understanding how best to ‘tell ones story’, as it is often the hardest thing to do.
Though I have tries exploring different forms of writing, I have enjoyed the voice of poetry as a medium for story telling so here are some of the poems from this year.
Performing Sex Poetry
Continue reading “#40 My Poetry in 2017: Caffeinated Sex, PNG and Cairns”
Into the day
To find where I belonged,
Leaving time and space before me,
Feet after feet
– A growing distance.
I was drawn into eyes,
Shimmering beneath blistering sunsets.
Each time wondering,
Whether sunrise would bring me back over the horizon.
And I held my breath.
In belief that dawns beauty
Would steal my breath away.
– Each time,
It almost did.
But each time,
I found my feet,
And caught my breath,
Each and every time
– Grasping on tight
To that part of me;
Still wrestling wild,
For a missing
Part of me.
It came in cups of smiles
On plates of tears,
That asked me to stay.
I almost did,
But each time,
I caught my breath,
And found my feet,
Each and every time
– Searching for the next step.
Only this time,
I stepped back.
And saw me standing there,
In the shadow of a silhouette,
who had lost its way.
And so I turned,
To find my feet,
Leading me home,
To where I never left.
We all go through life looking for our place in the universe.
Some of us find it in the voice of those we come to love. Some, in the pearly eyes of little treasures. Some, at the breaking of an endless dawn. I found it in death.
This is a piece I recently got cross-published on the blog mylandmycountry. It is about Papua New Guinean’s celebrating all that is good about our country.
Media attention awarded to Bugandi Secondary School of late, has tainted the name of this pillar of education within the Lae City community. I do not want to dwell on the events that have garnered such infamy, but it would be fair to say, there exists a sense of bitter distrust from the part of the greater Lae community.
But the nature of trust is that
it can also be earned back because bad does not necessarily mean ‘there is an absence of good’. At least that was my experience with the Bugandi Secondary School students on Friday, 6th October. An incident transpired during that day that showed hope and goodness that often goes unacknowledged about that institution.
I am not at liberty to fully disclose the details of the incident, least to say it was a hit and run and I, along with the students were first witnesses. I’ll add though that it was the quick thinking on behalf of the Bugandi students that led to the survival of the victim; the emergency ward named ‘Mr Friday Unknown’.
In a show of spirited heroism, the young men from Bugandi Secondary School gathered the seemingly lifeless pile of aged bones and soft tissue onto my ute. Without time to spare we rushed the Mr Friday Unknown to the accident and emergency ward at ANGAU Memorial Hospital.
There is always a moment of sho
ck that follows accidents so gruesome as that that reminds us humanity is nothing but skin and bones. It is the spirit that connects us to each other.
Seeing the spirit the Bugandi students showed to save a life gives me faith enough to say that the school is raising integral community members and citizens of Papua New Guinea. That lesson cannot
be overlooked. That lesson is more important then any piece of information that can be found in textbooks.
But this is not an isolated event. This act of selflessness is evidently engrained in these students. Almost a month before this incident a head on collision between two vehicles on Jawani Street (next to Bugandi) was witnessed by Bugandi Secondary School students who were unwilling first respondents to the scene, doing what they could to save the lives.
The description of the incident is not important here, but the character
demonstrated by the students is, again, testament to their strength and value as members of the greater Lae City
I would like then to commend the teachers and for their commitment towards their students. For believing in the goodness in your students. To the Principle, Mr Tony Gaul and your leadership team, it takes real courage and strength to believe in your mission with limited resources and the clout of negative media – for that I applaud you and your team.
Bugandi Secondary School has quite the journey ahead of it yet I believe that in the not too distant future, the institution will give the great city of Lae reasons to look upon it with the endearing fondness that it deserves..
A letter to Mr & Mr Too-Wrist
Two things really prompted this poem. One, I have started penpal-ing again over snail mail and the other was a conversation I had with a friend of mine who was worried that I was ghosting from that friendship. I don’t think I am, but it did make me think about how I would ever end a friendship. It’s not often something we think about but how would you approach it?
I also wrote this with the intent to perform it at our Pizza and Poetry nights in Cairns, hence the breaks.
Breaking up with a Friend in a One Page Letter
My Dearest Friend,
I know we haven’t spoken in a while.
The last time we did, all I left remembering was the
that lingered like the echoes of laughter we used to share at the bottom of our empty coffee cups.
Yours was full.
The inside joke that I hated computer technology and spelt it out in a six letter F word F.U.C.K.I.T.
“Ah fuck it!”.
Those were the days. Do you remember?
I call you friend. I haven’t found another word to replace you. How a six letter F word could keep me laughing – F.R.I.E.N.D.
Now you remind me of who I no longer am. A six letter F word that I want to F.O.R.G.E.T.
But reading comprehension was never your best suite. You liked Chemistry and Music, which only a friend would know.
So I’ll have to
Our friendship was like gold. It was worth a lot.
I used to like heavy metal.
So I fade away. Into black.
Insert Metallica reference – Fade to Black.
Or from Black to White and moonwalk out of this.
I like Michael Jackson. R.I.P to this.
pointless conversations mean little, like the one about being lost at sea.
Like I’m drowning in this. Not drifting anymore. Drifting apart, unlike before.
‘Tis time. ‘Tis me. Not you. ‘Tis change. It is life.
“Ah fuck it.”
I am being vague as I get to the end of this page. And I guess I just can’t find the words to say what it is I need to
say right now.
But until then,
until I do.
I guess I remain.
Your dearest friend,