Minjerribah's loss is eternity's gain
By Brandon Astor Jones
Oodgeroo Noonuccal (Kath Walker), our late sister from Stradbroke, has graciously left us many gifts, not the least of which is her poetry.
I have chosen the following selections to note the start of her journey into eternity, and to urge Green Left Weekly readers to read all of her other works not presented in this brief memorial to her "awaking spirit", which was so magnificently personified in her 72 years of sharing and unification.
United We Win
The glare of a thousand years is shed on the black man's wistful face,
Fringe-dweller now on the edge of towns, one of a dying race;
But he has no bitterness in his heart for the white man just the same;
He knows he has white friends today, he knows they are not to blame.
Curse no more the nation's great, the glorious pioneers,
Murderers honoured with fame and wealth, won of our blood and tears;
Brood no more on the bloody past that is gone without regret,
But look to the light of happier days that will shine for your children yet.
For in spite of public apathy and the segregation pack
There is mateship now, and the good white hand stretched out to grip the black.
He knows there are white men here today who will help us fight the past,
Till a world of workers from shore to shore as equals live at last.
Yellow Cake
Yellow Cake, Yellow Cake,
Where have you been?
I've been asleep in the ground
Not part of the scene.
But now I'm awake,
I can sing, I can shout,
Innuendo, Crescendo,
As to what it's about.
I can kill, I can maim
I can burn, I can blind,
I will treat man the same,
And the whole of all kind.
I can shatter the earth,
I can leap to the sun,
And cut off your birth,
Before — it's begun.
White Man, Dark Man
White Man
Abo man, we
To you have brought
Our social science,
And you we have taught
Our white democracy.
Dark Man
White man, who
Would teach us and tame,
We had socialism
Long before you came,
And democracy too.
White Man
Poor black fellow,
All your ever had
Was ancestor Biami,
Except the big bad
Bunyip and his bellow!
Dark Man
White fellow, true
You had more for pride:
You had Jesus Christ,
But him you crucified,
And still do.
The Teachers
(For Mother who was never taught to read or write)
Holy men, you came to preach:
"Poor black heathen, we will teach
Sense of sin and fear of hell,
Fear of God and boss as well;
We will teach you work for play,
We will teach you to obey
Laws of God and laws of Mammon ..."
And we answered, "No more gammon,
If you have to teach the light,
Teach us first to read and write."
White Australia
Let little kiplings rant,
Narrow and arrogant,
Their chauvinistic cant,
That white is nobler birth.
The very best of every race
Should here find a welcome place;
The colour of his face
Is no man's test of worth.
Rest in peace, sister. The struggle continues.
[The writer is a prisoner on death row in the United States. He is happy to receive letters commenting on his columns. He can be written to at: Brandon Astor Jones, EF-122216, G2-51, GD&CC, PO Box 3877, Jackson, GA 30233, USA.]