Wild Fridays: Thought Provokers

Imagination

We need to review our past to fix the broken cast that we all need to heal

The seal that is always broken that needs to be forespoken

To make everyone awoken

That our imaginations are limitless

If we come together it will be bigger than ever

If we collide as one, when we are done

We can see what we have become

Before one expression can lead to depression

The pressure of being yourself has made you feel left behind.

Being kind is not a self act, it’s a selfless movement

This containment needs to be released as if it was our relief

From our so called ugly self image

Our disapprovals our negative thoughts

I’m not being figurative, the damage of us hurting ourselves

Has changed us as a whole as if someone made the wrong fold.

Now tilt the container.

Do you feel a sense of calmness and relaxation?

As if that fracture has been repaired but left a scar.

If you don’t that’s OK

All you have to remember is time isn’t now and you’ll feel it one day

But sometimes that’s what keeps us going of the fuel to power our minds to steal our sadness away

To conquer our imaginations

Don’t stay how you are now

Work on yourself even if that means bending yourself down to pull others up

Because if we all do that then who will be down?

When you look at your property do you realise that others are living in poverty?

In school there are people who think they are cool

But what they don’t realise is that in a time scale smaller than a cup

Starting from the word 'sup' makes the ones the majority thinks aren’t cool feel lower than a stool.

Don’t be a fool to be proud of someone who is down and think it’s hard

That is how it is now

What we all need and know is that this generation can quickly turn foul.

– By Jasmine Logan

It's a time when the young are speaking up with powerful voices. Sherry gave us a great example in her last 'I Wish I'd Written This', featuring Shane Koyczan on bullying.

I admire the way this poem, too, while deploring the nastiness some young people can engage in, also urges the positive values of kindness and imagination.

Jasmine Logan, pictured sharing this poem at a recent 'Poets Out Loud' event in Murwillumbah, Australia, is 13 – the youngest participant in these local readings. Soon to turn 80, I may well be the oldest. 

A very confident performer, Jasmine came in second to me in one of our recent slams; I beat her by only 0.2 of a point. It was the only slam I've ever been in, so I was pretty chuffed to win; but, until the announcement, I was actually sure she had it won, and I told her so afterwards. Now the oldest and youngest local poets have become friends, and I asked if she would let me share her words here. 

At this stage she is very much writing for performance, so you need to 'hear' the sound and the rhythm as you read her words – or even better, try them aloud.

In the photo, Jasmine is wearing the colours of the Australian Aboriginal flag. I asked her to explain what the t-shirt says, because I was sure that otherwise someone would be bound to ask. She replied:

'Free the Flag', the t-shirt says.

It’s because the Aboriginal artist (Harold Thomas) has sold the flag to a non-Indigenous company who are Aboriginal art frauds. Now they have got rights to use it while everyone else has to pay. We just want to use our flag like every other Australian.

You can read the history of this flag – one of the officially proclaimed flags of Australia – including the situation she mentions, here if you're interested. (I think most Australians are already aware.) I asked her if she would like to say something about being an Indigenous Australian. She said:

Being Indigenous has made me really connected to culture and this land, although it comes with a cost. It is so upsetting to see people climb Uluru and Wollumbin.

[These are sacred mountains; the second is local. The indigenous custodians have recently ended the climbing of Uluru.]

Jasmine also finds it upsetting to contemplate the Stolen Generation.

My cousins were stolen, and my dad, aunties and uncles had to hide in my nan’s house until it was safe.

Here is one of Jasmine's most recent poems, on this subject:

Staring back at me was the Stolen Generation

I looked in the mirror and found a great mystery
Staring back at me was my people's history

Its name was a generation stolen

Sad event with children taken away

Many aboriginals had fallen

Mums are home anxiously every day

Terrified and NO parents of their own

Forbidden to learn about their people

Strange people around, feels like you're alone

Silence all around, besides one beetle

Forced to sing for the boss, they were made slaves

NO dreams, they were made to be maids when they grow

Least they tried, run back because they were brave

Blindfolded taken feels like it is slow

Mixed heritage identity unknown

Imagine that’s you. See! Are your minds blown?

She says: It breaks my heart to know how much racism there is in Australia ALONE, but I’m proud to call myself Indigenous.

May her strong voice be widely heard!

Material shared in this post is presented for study and review. Poems, photos, and other writings and images remain the property of the copyright owners, usually the authors. This photo of Jasmine is © Sarah Temporal 2019.

Note:
Sanaa's 'Wild Fridays' title is too good to waste – even though Sanaa herself won't be using it any more. Instead, she and Magaly will be taking turns to host our Sundays, now that Mary and Sherry have stepped down.

We think the title fits the way all sorts of topics pop up on Fridays, in random order. So we're making it the overall title, now, for all the Friday posts. This banner is Sherry's photo of wild waves in her glorious home environment, used with her permission – an acknowledgment of our original Wild Woman of Poets United! 

Ros