Poems by Ali Cobby Eckermann
Por: Ali Cobby Eckermann
Dingo Eye
Serpentine Gorge is empty
shiny heatwave shimmer
frogs bury, dormant
wait for the next rain
birds have flown the billabong
I peer, into eyes of dingo
motionless, airless
we hold that stare
the first moment
before breath expires
before understanding
a blink of my eye
the dingo vanishes
in fading dusk
* Serpentine Gorge is a recognised Aboriginal site and waterhole in central Australia on land belonging to the Arrernte people*
© from ‘little bit long time’ 2009
A Dream
I saw you dance
that summer
before the war
your face painted
proudly celebrates
your hunting skills
women in awe whisper
behind their hands
of your strength
and bravery
the headdress you wear
reflects your rightful place
of leadership
and wisdom
this was before
the white man came
and murdered you
© from ‘little bit long time’ 2009
Untitled
the pink
and grey
galah lies
dead
on the bitumen
grey bitumen
lies
dead
under galah
pink sky
*galah – one of Australia’s more common birds*
© from ‘little bit long time’ 2009
Kumana
There is no life
But Family
When I am young
I live with my Family
When I grow up
I leave my Family
When I am lonely
I miss my Family
When I am drunk
I reverse-charge (collect call) my Family
When I pass away
I unite my Family
There is no life
But Family
* Kumana – an Aboriginal bereavement name used by my Yankunytjatjara people*
© from ‘little bit long time’ 2009
How Does A Father Feel
How does a father feel
After his child is abused?
Does he want to kill the man
Who stole innocence forever?
Does he want to sit alone
And hide, pretend, whatever?
Does he want to hit his wife
When her crying goes on and on?
Does he want to go drinking
With his mates, even that one?
What does a father feel
After his child is abused?
Kill hide hit deny
Speak to the man, even that one!
© from ‘little bit long time’ 2009
Ribbons
‘See you’ I said to the children
as I memorised
their Anangu faces
filled with laughter
and trust in family
innocent in their youth
and strong in culture
‘See you’ I said to the Elders
as the tears flow
in my heart
and I bend down
to shake their hands
and gain my strength
by skin
‘See you’ I said at Murputja
and the dust from my car
as I drove away
was like a ribbon
across the desert sand
tying me to that place
forever
* Anangu is a collective name for Aboriginal people in the north-west desert of South Australia*
* Murputja is a small location within the Anangu Pitjantjatjara Yankunytjatjara Lands of South Australia*
© from ‘little bit long time’ 2009
I Tell You True
I cant stop drinking I tell you true
Since I watched my daughter perish
She burnt to death inside a car
I lost what I most cherish
I seen the angels hold her
As I screamed with useless hope
I can’t stop drinking I tell you true
It’s the only way I cope!
I can’t stop drinking I tell you true
Since I found my sister dead
She hung herself to stop the rapes
I found her in the shed
That rapist bastard still lives here
Unpunished in this town
I can’t stop drinking I tell you true
Since I cut her down
I can’t stop drinking I tell you true
Since my mother passed away
They found her battered down the creek
I miss her more each day
My family blamed me for her death
Their words have made me wild
I can’t stop drinking I tell you true
‘Cos I was just a child
So if you see someone like me
Who’s drunk and loud and cursing
Don’t judge too hard ‘cos you don’t know
What sorrows we are nursing
© from ‘little bit long time’ 2009
Shrine
among the rubble
I prop a roof
from battered rusty tin
sunlight sparkles through
old nail holes
as will stars
and droplets
of refreshing rain.
I weight every stone
in my gaze
in my hands
I sweep
earthen floor
remove its purities
from its skin
as it has done mine.
I gaze at
clouded glass
no longer.
© from ‘little bit long time’ 2009
Messages
Every grain of sand in this
Big red country
Is a pore on the skin
Of my Family
Every feather on the ground in this
Spinifex country
Is a spiritual message
From my Ancestors
Every wildflower that blooms in this
Desert of red
Is a signpost of hope
For my People
© from ‘little bit long time’ 2009
Yankunytjatjara Love Poems
1.
I walk to the north
I walk to the south
Where are you my Warrior?
I sit in the desert
I sit by the ocean
Where are you my Warrior?
I dance with the trees
I dance to the rocks
Where are you my Warrior?
I wait with the birds
I wait with the animals
Where are you my Warrior?
Heaven is everywhere
Where are you?
2.
I will show you a field
of zebra finch dreaming
in the shadow of the rock ochre
when the soft blanket of language
hums kindship and campfires
flavour windswept hair
little girls stack twigs on embers
under grandfathers skin of painted love
the dance of emu feathers
will sweep the red earth with your smile
do not look at me in daylight
that gift comes in the night
tomorrow I will show my mother
your marriage proposal in my smile
3.
in the cave she rolls large rocks
for the table, for the wildflowers
they pick for each other
she carries dishes of water
filled with river sand to soften
the hard rock floor
she makes shelves from braided vines
to hold the many feathers given
by the message birds
when he sleeps she polishes
his weapons with goanna fat
till they glisten in fire light
he tells the story of the notches
on his spear, the story of the maps
on his woomera (shield)
their eyes fill with spot fires lit on his return
the other women laugh ‘get over yourself’
they laugh ‘he’s not that good!’
she smiles, she knows him
in the night
4.
there is love in the wind by the hanging rock
down the river by the ancient tree
love in kangaroo lizard and emu
love when Spirits speak no human voice
at the sacred sites eyes unblemished
watch wedge-tail eagle soar over hidden water
find the love and happiness of culture
© Ali Cobby Eckermann
Inside My Mother
my mothers screams as I touch her hair
attempting to brush away the coarseness with my hands
to entwine twigs filled with leaves into her locks
a tiara of green to soften her face
and our tears dry now my mother is frailing
she talks only to those who have gone before
no longer seeing my love, no longer needing
and the wailing bursts from our mouths
as she sinks to the ground, her mother the earth
and my mother the dying
throws sand in her face, tasting the grit
in her mouth and wailing louder throws herself
forward, pushing her breasts in the softness
of the earth her mother
and my mother the dying
crawls down into that final embrace
her conversation incoherent now
as if like a child she is practicing words
for the lifetime to come
and the syllables loud and guttural spill
over the sand her mother the earth
and I walk away leaving her there
in that cradle, safely nestled in the roots
of that tree, safe in her country
our solace, her grave
© from Inside My Mother 2016
A Handful Of Weeds
a woman lays down in the grass
squints one eye against the sky
changing grass stalks to towers of gold
her grandson lays beside her
telling stories of kangaroos and birds
he imitates their movements
in that old sacred dance
a blue-tongue lizard lumbers past
it’s tongue protrudes from pinkness
it’s mouth surreal and hissing
the boy is surreal in his love of her
the patter of his feet is her pulse
his skin shines with his trust of her
at dusk headlights force a crusade
in the moment before discovery
he puts a handful of weeds on her grave
© from Inside My Mother 2016
