Big house, big lies, gubbna, white gubbament
Contorted melaleuca
Conveniently furnished with second
hand decadence
Will society ever speak of the secret deals that were made?
In order to showcase marble reminiscent of all the blood that was laid
Fireplaces speckled with red, yellow and black
A permanent reminder that refuses to fade back
Arched windows, towers, huge ornate door
Makes me sick to my stomach, like my heart just hit the floor
I don’t comprehend it, this makes my head sore
When I think about no one seeing beauty in what was here before
The cliffs, the white sand, beach and the shore
My people gathered here upon the first sunrise for ceremony and law
Dreams of magnificent ridgelines intercepting highways like a slow urban crawl
Connected sites of significance, intricate rock carvings, middens forty feet tall
But these wonders have disappeared, they’re not here anymore
I have retained my identity, of that I am sure
Inheritance; dispossession, pain and poverty
Against the calls of a mixed race progeny
While you were left to inherit the bounty of the colony
I am discriminated against on an hourly rate
While you and your ignorant spawn continue to spew hate
I live on the breadline, every day is a hustle
While you parade around with your IPhones and tell me to tighten my bustle
You persecuted my people because of religious beliefs
Initiated alien hierarchies, kidnapping puppets calling them honorary chiefs
Architects of this great nation, nothing but glorified thieves
Terra nullius—–no one here so we can do what we please
Genocide, massacre, they all hide behind the wall
Wondering upon stamps of gold in damp dark places, leading to a grand hall
A line up of history’s menacing faces, regal and ready for the jubilee ball
Crystal chandeliers, floral patterns, manicured lawns
Death and destruction devised in the drawing room by appointed pawns
How many lies are locked away, under the vaulted ceiling?
The English called it a ‘discovery’
I call it what it is, stealing
Indigenous vegetation and population cleared
Paradise paved with relics to construct your big house
Resistance was feared
Legacy of lies spanning eleven generations
Languages forced to extinction as well as many great nations
Your monument to a foreign power and foreign queen
Built on land that never was yours and never will be
Peaceful settlement an even bigger lie to hide their crimes
How many dead, how many more sacrificed?
How many brave warriors paid the ultimate price?
To build the big house of ghosts on a hill
Still today your white lies kill …  

View this poem on The Disappearing »