
Through my eyes….

Here we were, hundreds and thousands of us. Marching side by side, as we rumbled for our freedom.
Our echo’s bellowed, evoloping the streets surrounding Parliament House.
Our hearts poured raw, our spirits tears comforted the sacred land we stood upon.
Our tribe complete, but always welcoming, everyone from near and far.
Standing in unity for OUR futures to come.
The overlords above can screech their lashing lying words. For we are no fools.
We travel this land with our ancestors in tow. Hoping for a safer. Brighter world.
Always!
When our hearts pour raw. You will hear the cries of ancestors in tow.
Always!
This is our home, you serve us.
But who are you really serving?
For our hearts speak true.
Always!
Why cry? When you can laugh.
Jollied Time itself.
Seconds still sway on.
Present moments-
speak the only truth.
For the past is a fickle duel-
between a rose tinted haze.
The future is dream.
An ever present memory.
Waiting-
scrolling-
through her phone.
Cash register-
pinging-
in-
and out.
Queue.
Person ahead-
uncroaking their croak.
Words stubble out-
from the croaked.
Soy-
decaf-
caramel half strength-
latte….
please.
Waiting-
scrolling-
through her phone.
She rolls her eyes-
In dismay.
Hey,
lets call it day-
the heart has gone astray.
My minds made up –
these bridges are burnt-
no longer stable-
For you and I.
Hey,
Lets call it a day.
Baby-
I ain’t gonna lie.
This deal is done.
Hearts-
gone astray-
for you and I-
lets say our goodbyes-
and call it a day.
Crickets crackle their courting tune-
Humid air prickles my skin-
A gentle hand cups my waist.
Cheeks are blushing?
From the heat?
Jolting–Pulsing–Heart–
The soul does hum-
Their timeless-
Courting-
Tune.
Each step I take-
Sand caresses my feet-
Imprinting Mother Earth ever so briefly-
Whilst the tide gallops in.
The ocean breeze.
Always felt-
But never seen-
Entwines secrets into my tousled hair.
Salt and sand tango upon my my lips-
A comforting kiss.
From Mother Nature-
It shall be.
As I sit within the shadows-
Life itself I do ponder.
Such sadness scars my soul.
Thorns encased in salt rape my heart-
Reflections of death I have seen.
Isolation-
Mind over body-
Veils my being.
As I sit in the shadows-
They do speak to me-
In hushed whispers-
Warming my ears.
For shadows have no reflection-
Death can’t be seen.
To which brings comfort to thee.
I live in Melbourne, Victoria and I think I speak for the whole of Victoria.
From late 2019 till the current times of 2020 these times have been extremely hard for us all.
2020 ‘welcomed’ us with quite literally fire and brimstone. Smoke canvassed our skies for months.
Worry and concern plagued us for the safety of our firies. Our rural Victorians, their accompanying wildlife and our livestock.
Instead of morning alarms, for months we rang in the morning with Vic Emergency updates from our fire chiefs and our Premier.
Contact to outer Victoria was scarce.
Towns affected by the fires, their phone lines and electricity was gone for weeks.
Instead of friendly phone notifications from our friends and family, our phones pinged and dinged with the messages that another fire was out of control.
As time burned on. Acres got lost. Damage increasing 10fold.
Our hope was fading as clouds of smoke covered our horizons both literally and figuratively.
Once the fires were finally extinguished. Just before Autumn I may add.We continued to hold charity events, benefits anything that could send money to the townships and wildlife destroyed by this devastation.
Melbourne, Victoria as a whole was begining to gain our spirits back.
Joy started to fill our lives again. The air was clear. Our rural nature, the essence and beauty of what makes Victoria Victoria was finally recovering.
Remember….
We are descendants of Bush Rangers. We are strong. We can get through anything. We will be triumph through our struggles…..
Well…..
so we thought….
Mid March came along and along with it came covid.
With just over a months rest. We Victorians and along side us our Premier had to pull our bootstraps up once again.
Instead of alarms, Victoria welcomed the days ahead with death total. Case totals. A variety of different numbers and so fourth from the Premier.
Hope was deminishing once again. We had already been through so much in such little time.
We couldn’t see family, friends. Meet under ‘The Clocks’ do the things that make Melbourne. Melbourne. We were now the shell of once being the No.1 most liveable City in the world. Seven years running.
Most of us stuck to the rules. Staying in. Not seeing anyone outside our household.
Numbers started greatly decreasing.
Some restrictions were lifted.
Five people could visit one household.
Then 10 people could visit a household.
We were getting though this.
Remember….
We are descendants of Bush Rangers. We are strong. We can get through anything. We will be triumph through our struggles. We got this.
Or so we thought….
A month or so had passed.
Stage 3 was shorted lived. Numbers weren’t moving.
Then the numbers and stats were ambushing us.
Stage 4 was quickly put in place.
Yet again the days were ‘welcomed’ by numbers and stats.
All Melbourne checking their phones for the notification ping of ‘The Premier is now live.’
When the Premier would finish discussing the latest updates and changes to Victoria as a whole.
Some Jurnos asked questions that would actually help Victoria feel reassured and informed. Other Jurnos on the other hand would repeat and recite questions on a political stance. To stir the waters in the political atmosphere. Not helping the current situation at all.
A witch hunt towards Melbourne began….
So many people and Media all over Australia were also repeating and reciting negativity towards Melbourne and Victoria as a whole.
Our spirits had already been crushed , damaged and pierced since the end of 2019.
To have most of Australia against us. Causing more grief and anxiety to us Victorians. Wasn’t helping the current situation either.
Why turn on your own family?
I ask.
We are one. We are many.
But now it seems more like Most of Australia is one…and Melbourne, Victoria is not. Anymore.
Melbourne, Victoria. We had been through the ringer so many time in such a short period of time. Spirits crushed.
I will admit some people screwed up. Others did not.
Please think of us….
Fires prevented us from seeing our loved ones for months. Then Lock down continues to prevent us from seeing Family, Friends and ‘Meeting Under the Clocks’.
Each days that goes on in Lock down. We are alone. We are even more alone when most of Australia hates us.
As the ghost of Melbourne essences vapours on through the empty streets and cobbled stone lane-ways…..
We can only hope that things will get better.
Remember…..
Melbourne’s. We will come out stronger than before.
We are descendants of Bush Rangers. We are strong. We can get through anything. We will be triumph through our struggles. We got this.
Coffee in hand we will march through this. Together. As Melbournians.
Electric Blanket, dona heavy, Traffic passing, sleepy street.
Slightly bloated, shoulder hurting.
Winter. Night. Cold.
Work in Morning.
Shallow breathing. Asthma sucks.
World still turning.
Life on pause.
Train, echoing throughout.
Brisk air?
What dreams shall come tonight.
Remember.
Spray Melatonin.
Beside cluttered.
Nightly chaos.
Try to be tidy.
I am happy.
Also sad.
Always in back of head-
Missing my parents. RIP.
Shit this got sad.
Cotton Candy-
Melts in the mouth.
Carnnie games-
What a rip.
Feel like reading-
To which I will do.
Thankful. Night-
Is the moon bright?