Lionel Fogarty

Rating: 4.33
Rating: 4.33

Lionel Fogarty Poems

YOU ARE VULNERABLE AS GLASS ARE FALL TO PEACES
WHEN TOILED OF THE STRIPPING OF OUR PRIDES
...

The first homo sapiens is
we aborigines.
The different ideas ’bout origins
only you running human like people
...

A young magic man saw there was
no mountains left by this
land cos of man’s destruction
So he blow magic and said
...

4.

Love ..... walk with me
Love ..... waken with me
Love ..... is a black newborn
Camp fringe dwellers are my love
...

I am a moody Murri
my temper as black as me.
I am a moody Murri
drink and smoke.
...

Stain our tears
in those eyes of mine
Forward in wind
They shot
...

She’s native, naked, she’s native and naked
She takes me down and wipes my body
She holds me in her arms and warms my heart
...

Jesus I learned you lived and lived
Jesus we heard you died and die
Jesus I see them painting of you so white
Jesus I hear them sing, you lackey of God they sang.
...

SOMETHING THERE FROM DOWN THERE JOY SAD BLUES
IS TALKING TO US FELLA BLOWING BOWS
YOU COULD LISTEN TO IT YOU WOULD LISTEN TO HIT
...

The Department of Family Services and Abos lied to me.
My grandfather came to Purga at ’bout 19 0r 18 hundreds
And married a Murri woman who gave him sons.
In 1922 he was given exemption certificate from the Acts.
...

Long ago a brown alighted story was told
as a boy looked up on the hall walls
water flowed to his eyes
for Starlight was carrying snake in his shirt
...

There is a country
burned of ashes
far beyond the stars
where stands a skilful war
...

Your morning cried
made me want to die
I like to die with the water hen
with the turtle the porpoises
...

14.

Way out in the valleys and
mountain ranges of light

You came quiet in roaring tide
...

Verbal communication is what we like
Verbal knowledge is what we like
Reading ability in talking we like
Our components of language is stronger
...

I can see a lot of people coming
little black baby
you must respect the moon
you must praise the sun
...

We use to ride emus and dolphins
We now have feathers over our bodys
You in black and me in red
Inside a yellow man’s dream.
...

The first homo sapiens is
we aborigines.
The different ideas 'bout origins
only you running human like people
present state
This old naturally wise earth
not their scientific knowledge
Brothers million love remains
outside nowadays
But savage are there commonly believed
Theory of evolution we developed
things living as original forms of lifes.
Sisters modern human existence
not in there mixed.
Come brief kindly born earth
making scientist naive
the related common ancestors.
WE NOT APES
maps are in your sapiens
unwise species.
Don't we create spirits
the first and everlasting two
every Murri distribution of wealth
we done in this country
so we mustn't pay tax
on our homing wealth
that stays within.
We are the first or last
human being
homo sapiens, aborigines
Well tell we deep
private thoughts.
...

Long ago a brown alighted story was told
as a boy looked up on the hall walls
water flowed to his eyes
for Starlight was carrying snake in his shirt
gut belly
and around the fires a tall man
frightened the mobs that black eyes promised
that night at giant tree, way up
bushes crept in the ant hill
was the wild blackfella
from up north, they said.
Soldier chained him down at the waterhole
but as they bent to dip, sip
behind their backs, old man Waterflow
flew clear, magic
undoing the shackles, without keys
or sounds of saw
saw . . . nuh . . . you didn't saw him.
He's old Waterflow, even I'm too young
to remember everything.
Yet clever than pictures them show off
making fun of old Boonah
sitting outside waiting for dreaming
to come in reality.
After that somebody broke into the store.
Oh, the police were everywhere
at every door, roof, in laws
Where's this and that, you know.
So they find out where him came from
by looking at the tracks.
He's headed for the caves
just near Milky Way.
Happy in strength, we took off
but the hills hid this tribal
bull-roaring feather foot
under Jimmy's Scrub
place up deep
where you have to leave smoke
if you want to hunt there
If you don't, you'll get slewed . . .
On earth our people are happy
but we couldn't find that food.
Musta been up the Reservoir
or expecting a life to run over near Yellow Bar cave
again.
But we bin told, one man got badly porcupine.
Bring him home and not supposed to.
So him get sick, all life time
like green hands touch Murri legs
that's why you don't swim too late
at this creek created.
A spoiled boy one afternoon, went repeating
the bell bird singing.
And he went and went
and sent to Green Swamp, back of the grid.
Then as eels were caught
Aunties sang out, this the biggest
I've ever seen.
Come boys get more wood, we'll stay
here all night.
So sat waiting, a bit dark, tired light
the lines pulling in slowly
for fish seem to be in message
but two-headed creature appeared
legs chucked back
fires went out
the fish swam back
we raced home.
All cold that night, back of the bend
and rocks.
Just near the bunya tree you can see
this middle age woman, long black hair
walk past our Nanna Rosies' place
up to the graveyards
but she flows
and many moons came shone in our minds
watching Dimmydum and Kingy doing corroboree
on stage
in front of her children.
A light story past thru windows
on to you all
never forget
remember more . . .
...

She's native, naked, she's native and naked
She takes me down and wipes my body
She holds me in her arms and warms my heart
She pushes into my mouth with the smell from future voices
She multitudes my soul into many magnificent beliefs
She never is betrayal to love
Ain't no mountain fireplace gonna encounter her burnt scar
Ain't tiptoe intense kiss gonna undress her lips
She has powers in dignity and her nights endure my feelings
with the moon or stars
She turned my life's passions too beautifully for sleeping
whispering
Glory travels worthy in her lyric spirit
I am fragile in mine but she comes in galaxy memorised
Some outrageous reality remains in this society, but she comes
down plundering moves by radio hateness
She has been disappearing
She has been reappearing
She is the spice of earth and is the psalm's tangled up in flesh matters
my embracements are mine
Branches are of a new thing now called gulls of agony
But she takes this over bridges
But she has private hurts and loves
Now my body speaking for everything she gave is spoken
But my robbed yearning became strangehood
But I praise her touch happenings in her stages.
She is my friend I sort of love her
But sick as me I believe in her returns.
...

Lionel Fogarty Biography

Lionel Fogarty is an Indigenous Australian poet and political activist. He was born in 1958 at Barambah (now called Cherbourg Aboriginal Reserve) in Queensland where he grew up. He has been involved in Aboriginal activism from his teenage years, mainly in Southern Queensland on issues such as Land Rights, Aboriginal health and deaths in custody. His brother, Daniel Yock died at the hands of police in 1993. His poetry, while in no way dismissable as simply 'political poetry', can be seen as an extension of these activities on another front. Common themes are the maintenance of traditional aboriginal culture and the everyday realities of European occupation. Among the most 'experimental' of contemporary Australian poetry, his work has sometimes been described as 'surrealist'. Certainly large amounts of Indigenous Language, which white Australians sometimes find confronting, are employed but in part as an attempt to further dialogue between Australian cultures.)

The Best Poem Of Lionel Fogarty

Burn The Bridges

YOU ARE VULNERABLE AS GLASS ARE FALL TO PEACES
WHEN TOILED OF THE STRIPPING OF OUR PRIDES

YOU ARE RESTLESS IN LIFE
WHEN WE’VE BORN ANOTHER TO FIGHT

ALL THE BRIDGES OF YOUR MUSIC WILL BURN AS SOON
AS YOU WALK TO THE CENTRE OF OUR PROBLEMS

YOU MIGHT HAVE MOVED TO OUR SACRED RIGHTS
BUT YOUR PRICE IS HIGH IN

INTEREST RATES AND THEN YOU PROWL AROUND
UNRESPECTFUL TO ALL BLACK FAMILYS HOMES

YOU ARE THEY DAT WATCH PROTECT AND
LAUGH AS THE BLACKFELLAS RISE

THE WAITING FOR THE SUNRISE IS LIKE WAITING FOR A PAST
OF PEOPLE TO COME AND PROCLAIM THE LAND

BUT SITTING HERE BLOCKING OUT THE UNJUSTIFIABLE SINS
SINS ARE WHAT YOU ARE DOING

Lionel Fogarty Comments

Robert Murray Smith 13 June 2018

This poet ought to consider becoming a rap artist. His poetry has great poetntial in a poetry slam.

0 1 Reply
cody mcgrath 05 June 2018

good my name COOOODYYY

0 3 Reply
Teresa Podemska-abt 18 February 2014

L. Fogarty’s poems are seen as ‘difficult’ to understand because of the extraordinary language activations, verse and structures; but this ‘difficulty’ may simply result from the political slant of postcolonial lens, as evidently, this same language appears original and new, also idiosyncratic, if interpreted within the realm of the linguistic poetry. Therefore, even though the poet does not make the language a main reflection of his poetry, rather creating the language within language, he invents the ‘above-language’. In this language each neologism regenerates the Indigenous world and its tissue, consequently creating reality and linguistic reality itself. In such a way, L. Fogarty’s poetry crafts the ‘over-form’ of the Aboriginal English, but also cosmism, existence, being, self.

7 0 Reply

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