Holocaust Island (2 page)

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Authors: Graeme Dixon

Tags: #Fiction/General

BOOK: Holocaust Island
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Escape!
Spiteful rifle spits
slices through still night
Fragile life flickers
dying beneath searchlight
Faceless, uniformed figure
caresses hot, faithful toy
Warm blood gushes
shattered skull, tender boy.
Institutionalised keepers
blood lusted by the kill
gaze upon the carcass
Overwhelming power thrills!
Nobody mentions
victims a hungry thief
fallen from life's tree
like browned autumn leaf.
World eternally spinning
nothing breaks this move
Deafening silence returning
prison's eerie gloom
Bloody razor-wire glistens
beneath silvery moon
Night, quietly mourning
life escaped too soon.
Yigga's run
Bugger this for a joke coord!
4
I'm hitting the toe
Jail's breaking my heart
and making me low
My yorga's
5
pissed off
with this bunji
6
wajella
7
bloke
on all this bottled anger
I'm ready to choke
I haven't had a visit
near on six months now
so I'm gunna chase the moon
and I know exactly how
I've got this appeal
due to be heard
it'll be knocked back
coz the judge is a turd
But if manatj
8
give me
a smidgeon of a break
it'll be a risky chance
I'm prepared to take
I'll start training tomorrow
or better still tonight
to be fit as a fiddle
and ready to fight
“Yigga to the grill!
get ready for the court!”
Well this is finally it
my brain nervously thought
Shit, shower and shave
then into caged prison van
butterflies fluttering in guts
hoping that I can
take full advantage
of opportunity's coming my way
remembering the cliche
“all are famous for one day”
Escorted to the cells
in the Supreme Court bowels
dark, dingy and dank
full of smells so foul
Slyly I slipped off tie
sticking it in me pocket
I had this flimsy plan
piss weak but don't knock it
They called out my name
To get myself prepared
I was bracing my institutionalised brain
beyond the realms of care
They cuffed both my wrists
and led me on out
I gave manatj a glance
both were stocky and stout
Up steep wooden stairs
the manatj escorted me
all thoughts in my head
were only of being free
We sat on a hard wooden bench
outside the courtroom
I was trying to shake off
premonitions of doom
“Do ya's mind if I smoke?”
I asked one of the police
My frayed, tangled nerves
I hoped nicotine would ease
The manatj answered
“No,
but ya better make it quick
I'm certain your name
will be called in a tick”
I said I didn't care
if my appeal succeeded or not
as in six months time
I'd be free on the trot
“I've done three years”
I added with reckless grin
“and another six months
is not original sin
and jail don't hurt much
if you stay relaxed
at least in prison a man
don't get his pay taxed!”
Both manatj just smiled
Seemingly more at ease
neither appeared to jerry
that I was on the sleaze
“Do ya's reckon it's possible
to take off the cuffs
so I can put on me tie
and look less of a scruff?”
They stared each other
in the eye-balls
one shrugged his shoulders
saying
“no worries at all”
I put on wrinkled tie
forced smile on face
deep down in my chest
my heart fairly raced
“John Yigga to room one”
the court bailiff called
on hearing these words
poor heart nearly stalled
“Well, here ya go Yigga”
The manatj said to me
“you'll soon find out
what the appeal judge decrees”
We walked into court
silent as a grave
I was breathing deep and hard
trying to be brave
The court clerk hit his hammer
Shouting
“all ye stand!”
Wigged, owl-like judge entered
self-righteous and grand
“So you're appealing Mr Yigga”
he said down to me
with sarcastic look in his eye
“against sentence severity
Well, I'm real sorry son
I see no solid grounds
and for this fundamental reason
your appeal is stood down”
As they led me away
I thought
“here I go”
at last this is it
I'm hitting the toe
One cop had hold of me
by the left arm
his grip was relaxed
and he seemed to be calm
The other copper walked
a few feet ahead
suddenly I broke the grasp
and for freedom I fled
They pursued my elusive body
straight out the front door
shouting
“Stop you crazy bastard
in the name of the law!”
Into the court carpark
bending low I flew
trying to think clearly
of what I must do
A half dozen angry manatj
fell in on my trail
but my stamina was ready
through exercise in jail
“Stop that dangerous man!”
the manatj yelled out
to the curious citizens
frozen by their shout
But I was through the park
and entering the street
Two exhausted coppers gave in
I had now four to beat
“Go like the wind bro!”
a Noongah
9
kid yelled to me
“Spring like the Bungarra
10
if you want to be free!”
I crossed the road
like a roo in full flight
my heart was fairly skipping
me lungs were feeling tight
But suddenly a hairy hand
grabbed desperately at my shoulder
my body felt so weak
t'was heavy as a boulder
I reached into my soul
and begged for a little more
from the stamina I had stored
but I had nearly used it all
“I've got you now mate!”
I heard the manatj angrily say
“I run marathons for a hobby
I could do this all day”
So I stopped in my tracks
abruptly bending low
Catapulting over my body
I watched the copper go
He did a half somersault
landing with a heavy thump
I quickly straightened up
and over him I jumped
Instantly his hand shot up
grabbing me by the ankle
quickly pulling out his cuffs
within seconds I was manacled
I lay prone with sweat pissing
blowing like a beached whale
gloomy realisation setting in
I was heading back to jail
The copper breathed heavily
“That was a stupid try
now you're coming with me
back to the pigsty”
Once I was in the lock-up
I then began to shit
deep in my heart I knew
I was going to be hit
“Make fools of us will ya!”
a copper angrily said
“If I had me gun then
right now you'd be dead!”
The first blow landed
with a knee to the thigh
followed in quick succession
by punches to the eyes
“Strip the mongrel down!”
The duty sergeant yelled
“Then chuck him bore-orsed naked
into the cooling cell!”
They roughly threw me in
as naked as a jay
for my little excursion
I knew I'd dearly pay
A bucketful of water
was thrown over me
for a man is most vulnerable
when cold and naggedy
They turned on the fan
embedded in the roof
my nose was fairly bleeding
I spat out a broken tooth
I shivered and shook
through the cold and the fear
but I wouldn't give them
the satisfaction of a tear
The cell door flew open
in strode four burly cops
who systematically beat my body
I thought they'd never stop
When their revenge was sated
I was bruised and bloody raw
On departure one turned and spat
“Don't mess with the law!”
They found weary body hanging
later that lonely night
spirit finally broken
no longer desiring a fight
All this Noongah life lived
sneering at the gun
but this time it fired
jolted by Yigga's run
Was it the Queen's manatj
or could it have been he?
Nobody really gives a shit
but at least his soul is free.
4 coord—(coorda)—mate, friend
Back
5 yorga—girl, woman
Back
6 bunji—man who pays women for sexual pleasure
Back
7 wajella—white person
Back
8 manatj—police
Back
9 Noongah—Aboriginal person
Back
10 Bungarra—racehorse goanna
Back
Battle heroes
You bucked an evil system
putting up hell of a fight
struggling brave and hard
against the captors' agressive spite
So they savagely beat your bodies
whilst chained to the ground
For what logical reason?
Because your skin was brown!
Though the body's strength was sapped
ancient spirits fought on
so fragile throats were compressed
till all signs of life had gone
Other mortal injuries from battle
severe enough to cause death
cracked head!
bullet hole!
strangulation!
all took away life's sweet breath
State paid doctors and police
ruled against you of course!
coming to neutral judgments
“reasonable bloody force!”
And this informed Noongah
11
people
the state sanctions this war
so fight in self defence
you're not protected by Queen's law
Though they lost this battle
warriors brave and bold
the survivors will not rest
till injustice has been resolved
for
“all is fair in love and war”
is the invaders' battle-cry
So defy this oppression
or we're all destined to die
And Yagan
12
is still the hero
pioneer of our righteous cause
(will always be remembered
with respectful, silent pause)
But there's a new breed of martyr
who in bloody battle fell
Maori Tony, Robert and Charlie
John Pat and young Ricky as well.
11 Noongah—south western Aboriginal
Back
12 Yagan—Aboriginal freedom fighter
Back
Darryl
Though the town's forgotten
I remember well
a skinny half-caste kid
hanging in a cell
Your body was caught
in the pain of life
and the agonised throes
of violent strife
We were all stunned
with terror and fear
those of us left who loved you so dear
There will never ever
be time to forget
your agonised face
and that leather boot lace
They cut your shell down
gave it respect
more than they gave you in life
when proudly erect
But you were a child
a product of time
a little bit lost a little bit wild
loving and gentle, slightly uncouth
They refused you the right
to outgrow your youth
But I remember you Darryl
your humour your smile
the good times we shared
for a space and a while
and sometimes when I'm down
and alone in the night
I wonder what would have been
had they treated you right
If you were alive
you would be thirty today
maybe contentedly watching
your children at play.

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