The Capacity to write

Its gone they say, the capacity to write. 

I know but won’t say so

not so much that they know that I know. 

I wonder why I don’t want them to know, especially when I have said it all, to the police even. However, he makes them cry and then promise that they will not let anyone know that he has been cruel to them. 

They cry and then they smile when I ask them and I know that they are afraid but won’t say anything against him.


What should I do, I am really tired. 

He uses them, sends them away on holidays, takes them to movies,

He spends money like there is no tomorrow 

And children like it so much that they get pleased but it is like a disease.

I know not what I should write,

I know though that it is Depressing to sometimes

And the pain in the pit gets stronger and stronger

And that which is there will not diminish or not linger.


I see them sometimes and not too often anymore, 

I wonder how many other mothers this happens to 

And how many live without their children

Who grow up as the sons and daughters of villains.


Is it only in Australia that this happens,

Or is it all over the world now.

Is it only to a certain cultural background or 

Is it across cultural boundaries

For the world is a fairer place now

And what used to happen to one, and I mean Slavery,

Cannot happen to another this easily

Because of all the laws which were put into place in 1945

Post World War II or was it just history?

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Voices

A poem Voices come and go They stay not for too long  in my mind or another's; a fleeting thought makes me think whether it will be fine to know or to blink I think with the voice but it does not acknowledge me at times  and then I know that it is fine to not think
Read more

Cloud

What to write or say, There is something which I need to say. They come and they go They still need a mother and so does their brother. He does not come over that much,  But he does still. They know, but do they care, no, they don’t; This is a really sad tradition Taking children away from mothers And letting ex husbands do so with the assistance of their friends and brothers. It is illegal to do so, I hear the parliament say, But do they turn around and help when you ask them to or do they say, No. Let them know that it is wrong but do they say it when you ask them to say so, No. What should I write today, the day is a bit cloudy It is going to rain again And cloud our judgements still.
Read more

The Voice

I begin this note with a quote: “If you hear a voice within you say, “You cannot Paint,” then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced” - Vincent Van Gogh Vincent had a Mental Illness and which was that he could hear voices. I probably read this in the NGA or I could have also read it in my sister’s books when I was in year 11. A Voice once asked him to cut one of his ears off and he did. But he was an amazing artist as most know now and tried to keep the Voice that used to bully him at bay, especially, when he was painting. I, for one, started to paint and sculpt when I was in primary school and could probably draw before that too. I also started to sing, probably when I started to talk and this as my mother was a singer.  I have now been assessed with a Schizoaffective disorder and am being treated for Voices & visions that used to reveal distressing truths to me (!) and I am on medication. My three sons have been entrusted into the care of my ex husband and his f...
Read more