Judgement

25/01/2021 – Poem a Day Compilation



        The judge didn’t see me

        Standing before them

        Needing a chance –

        Not to be a better person,

        Not to live a better life,

        Not to make amends

        But to have my truth believed

        And to live my life a free man –

        And all they saw was

        The colour of my skin.



Justice should be blind.

It shouldn’t see race

Or gender

Or sexual orientation

Or economic status.

The same crime

Should attract the same process,

The same presumption of innocence,

The same considerations,

And the same sentence.



        I didn’t kill my wife –

        I was in police custody at the time

        From drunk and disorderly

        And I spent the night alone

        In the local watchhouse

        As my wife was dying,

        As she lay in the hospital bed.

        As her killer escaped,

        And I was only released

        In time to see her pass.



There are far too many stories

Of miscarriages of justice,

Of wrongful convictions

Of lives ruined,

Because of the prejudices

That people carry with them

All through their lives,

Unable to separate their opinion

From their professional actions

And the rule of law.



        The police beat me

        Until I was broken,

        Until I gave in,

        Until I confessed

        To a crime I didn’t do –

        A crime I couldn’t have done –

        And I wanted it to stop

        But because I was coloured

        I knew it never would

        And so did they.



The judge sits as the arbiter of truth

And if their judgement is clouded

By racism,

By sexism,

By homophobia,

Justice can never be served

And the experience of the accused

Regardless of the outcome

Will not be what it should be

And they will be scarred.



        The prosecution didn’t question

        The tainted evidence provided

        By corrupt police

        More interested in an arrest

        Than the truth or justice

        And even the confession of another man

        Could not persuade them

        I did not deserve this treatment,

        I did not need to be tried,

        I did nothing wrong.



They already have scars

From the events in their lives

That led to the point

Of them standing in the dock

Waiting for a judge

To make a call

To decide their fate

To let them live

Rather than giving them life

Or handing down death.



        I spent almost seven years

        Serving time for a crime I didn’t commit

        Until the record of detainment,

        My alibi that was ignored,

        Was “found” and brought to light

        So that I might be set free,

        So that the perpetrator might be found,

        So that my innocence might be proven

        And I could finally grieve

        For my wife and for those years lost. 



I would love to say

That my country is immune

But that would be a lie,

A scandalous one at that,

Because records exist

Because people remember

Because convictions are overturned

And we must continue to fight

For what separates us

From lawlessness and injustice.



        No police had action taken against them –

        They suffered nothing for my ordeal –

        While I languished without hope

        The continued on with their lives

        And no judge questioned their integrity

        While mine was soon discarded

        Convicted not for what I’d done but

        Because of who I am,

        Because of how I look,

        Because I am an Aborigine.



(Based on the 1984 conviction of Kelvin Condren for the murder of his wife, Patricia Carlton, after being coerced by police to confess, despite his alibi being his detainment by police. Condred was released in 1990 after his alibi was proven, a witness recanted saying that their statement had also been coerced, and another person - a white man - provided an affidavit confessing to the crime, though that person was never convicted due to mental health concerns.)

You Are Wrong

27/08/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



You are wrong in every conceivable way.

I cannot begin to fathom how wrong

It is possible for one person to be,

Yet here we are.



When we met, I didn’t realise

How ideologically opposed we were

Because you camouflaged your true identity

To ingratiate yourself.



Maybe I missed all the warning signs

And wanted to see the best in you –

I’d set the bar so low without knowing

And the likes of you slipped through.



I’m sorry to say it took me too long

To call you out on your bigotry

And when I did it felt so good

And you took it so very badly.



You reacted like the child you are,

Throwing your proverbial toys from the pram,

And I was one of those toys your tossed

But you’re not getting me back.



You’ve made your bed to lie in

By choosing division over acceptance,

Your compassion chip not functioning

Nor your humanity interface.



I hope, one day, you’ll see the light

But I won’t hold my breath and wait.

I don’t ever want to hear your voice

And I won’t answer the phone when you call.



I don’t understand how you can’t see

That we are all just human beings

Trying to survive this thing called life

And our differences are miniscule.



The colour of my skin doesn’t matter,

It won’t change whether I’m kind or mean,

Unless you make it an obstacle to overcome

When it never was for me.



The language that comes from my mouth

Has no bearing on my intelligence

Though I marvel at those among us

Who can converse in many tongues.



What greater gift than diversity

May be bestowed upon our land?

The melting pot includes us all

And we should treasure every soul.



Your hatred burns inside your heart

And grinds your thoughts to dust;

But your vitriol will never reach my ears

Now that you have been cast aside.

On the Field

20/06/2020 – Iso Well-Being Compilation

 

Hey, black fella, do your trick.

Kick that ball like we know you can.

But don’t think for even one second

That what happens on this field of play

Allows you to be one of us

And don’t you dare to raise your voice,

We don’t want no uppity black man here.

 

Can you hear the rabid hatred burn

Deep in their heart of hearts?

They can’t bear to be told a truth

That others have known for so long.

 

We weep with sorrow, with grief, with rage

For too many honoured men cut down

By such tiny minds as they

Who cast dispersions based on melanin.

 

Winmar raised his shirt so proud

And pointed to his skin so brown

And in that one iconic frame

Became a saviour and the devil made.

 

His act, not so defiant, yet

A statement to those who would tear him down

That no one could see and then ignore

The devil that day wore skin of white.

 

But the story ends not with one man

And a jumper raised in silent protest

But continues on until this day

With no regard for fellow man.

 

Goodes by name, and deed as well,

Taunted by a merciless mob

Who saw not a member of the human race

But an ape, a beast, a soulless animal.

 

That none saw the horror then

Of seeing who had launched such bile

And none heard the calls from his own lips

For compassion for this uneducated child.

 

Driven from our fair game

By those who hide their face in the crowd

Until another takes their place

And bear the brunt of privileged hate.

 

Betts, the latest in a line too long,

Has born this vilification for too many years

And seen his pleas for equality

Fall at the feet of unfeeling yobs.

 

Though maybe now his words can be heard

When so many take a knee

To honour teammates past and present

Who wore the jumper just as they.

 

Three men of greater character

You could never hope to find

And so easily they could have folded

Into the shame we all must bear.

 

But to their everlasting credit

They won’t stand silent or play the part

Of a performing monkey in a cage

When, on the field, they are the best of men.