Gibar Magic
A young magic man saw there was
no mountains left by this
land cos of man’s destruction
So he blow magic and said
Bajeirjeir jungamu
be there a mountain in front of me
And there was a great mountain
where people gather at the body
of it, to dance from grass
trees and animal lives
So it rained and water came
down from the mountain creating
a foundation of harmony
Then after many years a
big storm come rushing
flood flowed over every hut
and lightning hit trees causing
fires, everything was like
a bombed land where people
are helpless and the mountain
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poem by Lionel Fogarty
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Connection Requital
SOMETHING THERE FROM DOWN THERE JOY SAD BLUES
IS TALKING TO US FELLA BLOWING BOWS
YOU COULD LISTEN TO IT YOU WOULD LISTEN TO HIT
GENERATIONS OF SAND MOVIN BY THE WINDS
THE POWER EARTH RATTLINGS
THE POWER MOVING MY VOICE OUR CHOICE
THE POWER OF YOU MY PEOPLE RELATE LINGERING
THAT’S THE HOME MURRI PEOPLE TALK ABOUT
ALL YOU RELATIONS NORTH ARE EVERYTHING
ALL YOU RELATIONS EAST ARE EVERYTHING
ALL YOU RELATIONS WEST ARE THINGS RING
ALL YOU RELATIONS SOUTH ARE THINGS RING
THAT’S OUR WAYS SINGING EARTH REST
THAT HAVE WAYS SUNG TEEMED WITH LIFE
OLD WAY SWIFT AWAY
GOOD TAMED YOUNG WAY
WASTE AWAY BAD SECRET
SOMETHING THERE FROM DOWN THERE JOY SAD BLUES
IS TALKIN TO US FELLA BLOWING
THE POWER OF YOU MY PEOPLE MOVE YOU
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poem by Lionel Fogarty
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Black Woman
She’s native, naked, she’s native and naked
She takes me down and wipes my body
She holds me in her arms and warms my heart
She pushes into my mouth with the smell from future voices
She multitudes my soul into many magnificent beliefs
She never is betrayal to love
Ain’t no mountain fireplace gonna encounter her burnt scar
Ain’t tiptoe intense kiss gonna undress her lips
She has powers in dignity and her nights endure my feelings
with the moon or stars
She turned my life’s passions too beautifully for sleeping
whispering
Glory travels worthy in her lyric spirit
I am fragile in mine but she comes in galaxy memorised
Some outrageous reality remains in this society, but she comes
down plundering moves by radio hateness
She has been disappearing
She has been reappearing
She is the spice of earth and is the psalm’s tangled up in flesh matters
my embracements are mine
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poem by Lionel Fogarty
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Mingom Treatment If Possible
Your morning cried
made me want to die
I like to die with the water hen
with the turtle the porpoises
the fish; even the porcupines
I like to die with the kangaroo emu snakes and opossums
I like to dead with the goanna birds and seagulls butterfish
even pelicans koalas; eaglehawks
I like to dead with all natures brothers and sisters
I love to die with my body in the boughs up high in a tree
I love to die without any black white singing speaking or being at my funeral
I love my bones to be dried out then put in cave; I love to die wrapped in bark
About six or three feet deep dug out
Then the logs put by my sides and branches to make a platform
Put the bark over me and fill in my body with earth
I love to die with singing; dancing and crying around my grave
I like to hear while I’m laying dead the political cultural speakers and fires all night till dawn
I love to die with my Aboriginal freedom colours all around me
I love to have a funeral with live music played by yidaki (didjeridoo)
even a song by our greatest singers; protest cultural singing
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poem by Lionel Fogarty
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