The World

The world I perceive
Has been changing before me
Into a different thing
From that it could have been
And within our experiencing
Its more rapid increasing changes
Are many folk afraid of
What all around us seems unstable
When it's only that the world is
Becoming unbelievable
For if to be real and living to tell
Might we not yet have to
Place the trees before ourself
So if its the competing
For information to feel safe sleeping upon
Making you fear your own song
They try to just follow along
With what can cause forests regrown live long

Today just is like this:

Somebody
But perhaps not the actual
Police, was
Blaming in a causal fashion
My family

Blaming for failing to support me
In my endeavour
To protect my children
And blaming for denying me
In my belief

Alike to blaming the victims
Of what about this story is
Since
Be in not for I
To let me and mine
My children fine
Bear with the victim mentality
Yet since among the family
Are those who sought to profit upon being held wrong
Such are those to who the blame is falling

Yet in that accusation which was held against me
Not originally, of course, from the police
But in origin knowable to me
One of their informants did it to me
Did so as to have information be paid for
In navigation of criminal law
That he would not himself be policed
He who did it that it has been seeming
Accusations against me might stick
Of abusing my children
In which the police
Do seem to be whom
Have crossed their wires with
My extended family
Such that each believed
The other was holding
The real evidence the seek
Against me
When of course all alive may search me
And many have already
For every skeric of my own culpability
Since I know in my heart
I never could have been a part
In abuse of any child that breaths

But meanwhile have my family
While being accused causally
Of not believing in me
Missed a critical fact
In our common ancestry
Of which there are certified records witnessed by me
Believed in by those policing
And around the evidence of which
My father most uncharacteristically
Has lied even to my mother
Yet as she to he
All tangled down together among the police
In one giant shirk wangle

So if they want to learn
What it was that the real accusation against me is
Then might they just find it to be
Not more than the probability
That my waiting upon
A report of my son
Working a late shift at KFC
Might just have been
Construed as a child abuser waiting around the KFC grounds
Based upon naught but what was told about me
To the manager at KFC
Of why it happens to be
That the police have been keeping my family
Within their policing surveillance to see
That unfortunately
They seem to be
Causing their own effect
In the allegations which were laid against me

Yet of me
Never it be
A victim to the circumstances here you might read
Such of my will to expose what is real in this see
And never could I be
Holding any red cent of my money
Against the circumstantially framed situation shame
Since
It has come to me
That to blame even the blaming
Of what might be
Abusing of children
Could fall into letting the blame
Land with real victims in some other land

Thus it be
If any real compensation is owed me
And my children three
Be it simply and only
Based upon the need for real sanity
Which the methods of policing used around me
Have been adept at denying
Yet thankfully
Not so adept as I am at sustaining internal sanity

Sanity of which
I know in truth in all this
That my mother's behaviour in front of my children
In defence of their own father's alcoholism
As though they receive their intelligence from it
And when the whole neighbourhood
Knows better than
Will not do more than prove me
Since the case against me
Had relied upon false evidence from she
Thus sadly
Condemning will I forever be
Of the abuse of alcohol you see
And of the case at law between us all
That condemnation never has been the denigration forbidden me

Coverage

Well covered is
The best request
Of modesty's bliss
Yet
When I asserted
My own support of
Among the secular
Shop selling my own lot
Of words these no longer at that shop
Was my assertion of respect for
The coverage of women and wives
Taken for a great ride
Way back in time
From a shop keeper
Through a step mother
An english moderator
The British police cross referencing in their sleep
And of stolen nobility not mine
For I know how cause works in time
Arrived my simplicity
Of modest support for
A clothing maker of sorts
For she told me she'd support what I write
And so I wrote well of her own modest coverings
Such as I am but that those words were then lost to me
Lost back into the start
Of the industry of the art
Of clothing ourselves as who never might tell
What is it this clothing covers too swell

Christmas

I took this
You gave which
Could make of
My Christmas
Yet without its
Potential
In reality is
That the path towards
What you tried to cause
Prevented
Just as I had
Originally contended
For your facts had
The truth
Only pretended
Not of my own efforts expended
Nor resources available to be spent for
Yet if not for
The large expensive core
Of your direction
Upon the path of the poor
Surrounded as we all were
By being fully obstructed
In the realm of real justice
For Christmas this
Is that which
Never could have come
The way you gave it
Yet the orange flavour
The fabric made for
Cake baked because
My word not a pauper's
In social mores for you tasted
Love have I not this Christmas wasted

The Spiders: a poem about the disturbance to reality checked out now in factual effect correct: eight to make, that bake, we hate, tested by date

THE SPIDERS:
a poem about disturbances to reality being cause by the lies of criminality

The spiders of our nightmaresBe never what they seemYet as they are spidersWhy it might well be mean To hate them into a dreamFor the cooks are savvy (only imaginatively)The screws no navie (apparently)The gardeners unseenBut the rock spider hatedIs only life savingIf in prison you have beenWhen in fact among them Are whoWere in violence Loved intoTelling a screwPlease but I need protection tooFor the definition Of the rock spiders statusWorks on the assumptionBuilt into imprisoned embarrassed sodomised screwsThat every bum-facedEmprisoned inmateMight have no reason toWant to kill youUnless you were so bad as they whoWere caught in the actCharged and convicted a factOf assaulting a child's childhood thatThe whole world is permitted to hate atBut did youOr any man whoAsked to live throughHis prison sentenceProtected from being raped to deathBy other inmates not convicted for such hate thusSince the screws can only assumeAnd might only be fated to doFor the rock spiders whoHad in fact raped a child the truthWhile near by to meLiving locally I seeAre those child rapers whoToo constipated toBe found out by prison inmates whoHave been deluded intoSupposing that A dick covered in shitIs what wisdom is gained throughBut those silver tailed spidersEx-prison inmates whoWere never yet convicted for what they did doAgainst their own child whoWas too deluded therein to tell youSince in their familyThe only safety has beenWhen rapists suffer convictions from More overt violence thanThat against the inner most sensibilityAnd serve their prison terms
As any of the other spiders that bePerhaps as the silver tail
I witnessed on a bus nearby to me
Entertaining his son
Into the delusion
Of victory in sexual abusingSorts of spiders who availThemselves spiking all foodWith addictive substancesIf the rest of prisons abuses were already not enoughAnd oh the big fussThey all make of their hateFor those rock spiders plusThose innocent Among whom Have informed me of such
As what had set them up
As in fact I had been too
Or might never have wanted realise what imprisonment can doAnd will you too realise with me then thatThe abuse many needed protecting from atMight only have been ofRefusing to become whatComplicit withThe whole system in whichThe crimes of some menGo unchecked by imaginingTo cause us all be assumingThat another had committed it
Thus the whole story so saddeningSo will you here too Work as I can throughKnowing in certain truthThat the innocent men so abusedHave been whoWere protecting The rest of societyFrom what they there in prisons Working for organised crime did do
Against every human untoAnd that the multitudeProtecting youAre indigenous whoHave been by far the worst abusedSo cling on toThe crimes various
Minor and often hilariousOnly in part trueAs that which Indigenous inmates strength is toBe forced intoBy those whomHave been trying to force all indigenous men
To prove false evidence
Of their own incompetence
In child protection thisPoem committed unto
Moderations of the delusions uponThe behaviour their own worst fears are throughOf raping childhood’s many but thus no longer trueThat if the force can beThus well displacedInto any other criminal or legitimate faceBest let that be the case
Rather than let the nightmares of child rape
Land upon the heads of who could fall to enact of insteadBetter to realise this mateThat fighting for justiceBy making men into inmatesOf such untold corruptionsTo the humanity of our nation stateCan sustain no legal caseNo matter how many efforts were madeTo imply that those of us who inform you of whyMight be the criminal typeAble to be policed Within policing unchecked and disgracedMeanwhile inside the prisons The spider and insect songs Have been How the brothels which rape childrenImagined that they were fundingThe excusing the crimes
ObsceneOf what costs every lifeFor no more will I be yet another wifeTo men who've been inmates of the prisons in strifeWithout speaking up about these wasted livesBeing spent upon how organised crimeMaintain letting the richest in monetary meansImagine impossible excuses to find
How to maintain their own self esteem
By fabricating their own be mine

While mortgages sub prime
And some exclusive brethren visitation
Somewhat unfortunately timed
To reveal potential imaginative crime
Of projection of false delusionAs to the nature of the find
The real Australian dream fineSo believe in me it now to beTimeThis story is begunTo be told rightEven despiteThat in the knowledge every person alive mightPerceive that death exists by just knowing this
Unable prevent of itsSuch is the fearOf the men whose livesSo beaten downRefused So far yet to tell to you
What might make you complicit to their account through
Your own knowledge in mineNot that they wanted hell they are in to continue
By silence of witness
Thus herein exposed isBut that they wished not for it ever toExpand out intoThe whole society as news
Able be squandered unto
Who might blame of to excuse
Their own crimes aligned But for a mother's need of a real loving husband Will I now here begin to say the truth ofWhat must be ended withFor if the conditions inPrisons are let to continueWill there be no life left with any real valueUnlessThe spiders of our dreamsBe let out into The world that is not as it seemsBut will realise their bites fail not to doBeing the right form of life untoThrough which the exorcism Of the nightmare of child rapeWill be worked out alrightAnd through the mud crabs
The bake
Of more sociable forms
While the truth of the gameThe prawnsThe grubs and the worms Of our mental stormsHave the invertebrates And singled cell creatures mateKnowledge in DNA of living the fateThrough which into deliver those nightmaresOf hate never to enact And of lateThe key to it never happening againThis be found of that factIn being those nightmares gateThe experience of every inmateOf any Australian prisonHas been the terror ofBecoming their own sodomistFor only when engaging inThat most terrible of sins
Of relieving the colon of another so prowled ofAre the perpetrators of child abuseNot imagining to excuse their selves throughSo doBelieve also you whoFear what I write here might well be trueKnow that to End of this night mareOf timelessness underminedWe all just might
Realise that what prison inmates fight
And fear in an un-win-able bind
Is the imprisonment among their mates
Of whom they themselves may have once raped
Any whom ever did perpetrate
Upon any child a rape
That all men therein need the fateTo want of the exo-skeletal dreamingTo be being attuned in just right bindingSuch as that our own humanity in spiteFor the turtle will everBe the evidence of foreverHas the end of all child rapeBeen inevitable
And the spiders in time
Will again outweigh in life
The fact of the existence of rape
For a spider is the place
In which to dictate
Ideas of finding out
What reality is about
By extracting the knowledge
Of any other person’s intimate longings
Thus exorcism’s prediction
Remembered patterns
Defining
Life on Earth worth saving
Economies thus embroiled with
Environment to recondition to this

Never forgetting
My own are the totems
Of Emu and Roo
And a sugar glider too
A pelican, a crow
And bumble bees in tow
The goat eating blackberries
The turtle doth love be
A water monitor’s worth see
A donkey’s ear
Koala’s nose
But mine
A human toe
With saltbush to know
Forests upon forests of Eucalypts will grow
And to the Ant’s Kingdom the throne
Never be spiders alone
Nor ever accurate when known
Be the Rainbow Serpent's this tome

Relate to the case of legitimate obligation to abide within the letter of legislation

Regardless of what you might reckon
Yourself of the worth in the lesson
Of Islam's Prophet with those who believe in
This fact has been
That by accusing indigenous Australians
Of the worst in any human nation
We Aborigines can
At times seem to manifest aligned
To those conditions folk read of
Which establish to believe in
Where the realising of prophesy is seeming
And I here am claiming
These conditions be no more than
The form of abuse began
By those who sought to profit from
Obtaining money upon
Being first to predict how prophesy might realise to belong
So to honour Mohammed refuse to play along
With the game of blaming your money upon
How other folk in other places
Are coping with the basis
That prophesy is written upon

The poem for the bloke (shok_neuronae his name) who needed its evidence to know I wrote

What
Is this
Story out
That we shout
For we know it is about
Things best not left in a child’s pout
Be the reason for our persistent
Will to find out what need
Be the seed of the
Future in
Story

Will

You be

Late for me

When you wait

Patiently at the gate

For whatever it will be

We meet in this day’s feat

Of what it is to wait for

And why be late for

That which it is

In truth need

I will be

Me

And This

And This

Believe they can
That when they read
My words might
They no need
To believe in
What I write
As their own reason
Dictates their season
The time to believe in
Only what they suppose is
Their lot to believe in
They who believe
That what defines
Their own action
And also reality in fact
Is simply that they believe
These my words might they like thus to read
For many are who believe different to
Whose truth is in Allah the reality of willing to
Believe that reality is yet to be
What might we make of our own certainty
When God willing in Allah to need
We work for our place in the real world to be
Yet of the legal infrastructure feed
What defines the real to believe
Is what in which it is that belief sits
Thus whatever you believe
Is
And this

I am finding it happening to me. But what you might well question of me.

There is a very strange thing which has been happening.
Every time I find that my life is being more overtly guided,
through the Ummah of Islam in which I am finding,
that by prayer alone need I myself be minding,
since when given more explicity worldly advices,
is a very strange thing happening.

What happens is,
each time I,
start out on a new course in time,
with Islamic advice in mind;
Suddenly an Aborigine Man comes by,
manifesting a remarkable quality of real responsibility,
for why it is that I,
have not yet become a fully grown adult woman,
despite at thirty nine being that old and tired,
by my girl self too wise,
to be under valued,
and left out in the cold a girl in this life;
Yet so far to date,
not one man whom has tried,
had managed to find,
his jealousy able,
to let me out of his sight,
into the life of he whose worth might,
not be too frightened,
to learn what it is that I,
have been finding out with my life;
but why,
here is my question,
why is it can we reckon,
that the every instance of any Aboriginal man,
a man of my own race and indigenous ethnicity,
my own culture of understanding what it is that we all might be,
one of my own country men,
happens to come by my life and when,
he notices something about my,
what is it when,
the worth of the Ummah of Islam,
is attempting to supply,
but what is it then that need I,
for the men who contract to,
take responsiblity for me,
just neatly by coincidence,
quite perfectly timed with,
the prayers of the Ummah of Islam might we all thus be praying with,
are men who,
always supply to me,
far greater than what I had received,
yet the supply they provide,
is of their love and their time,
while that which they receive from I,
bound through I into becoming Muslim that this can be told mine,
is what we all need of ourselves,
us indigenous peoples of the world,
it is ourself,
returning through the prayers of,
all Islam sublime.
to each of us one at a time,
but how much longer until I receive what I might keep and be kept in,
of my own results in time,
I will that a husband be the only one next time.
No matter how many times
we have all tried
to prove that this is not yet his own mind.
Is not how I intended that last line.

Lesson

Learning Fast
Might not their blast
Of subliminal
Advertisements
About what
They imagine
To cause me
Having caused them

So best not threaten
Me with what you've already done
For when we all reach that outcome
It won't be of my own touch
But within my accounted sum
To know of your threatening guns