September Poems

The Dew and Me

Morning dew
you so icy cold to my bones
The sun is high and you fade
my sleep so swiftly
o, my wonder water.

The Kawas Gunman

Lewa, o lewa
you snore the night
as I cry my heart at the frontline
to keep you warmth
from the infidel New Guineans.

Lewa, oi baka ani
you nice like the orchids of Korarei
that entice my eyes with calm
of the Kau'para peak
where legend homage
as elopers' paradise.

Lewa, baka domangnani
let your gunman snore by your side
to heaven with you
and never come back
for the sun.

My Bougainville

My Bougainville
listening to your songs I cry
my sweet home island

Free Bougainville

In the coast
I was born
In the mountains
I grew...I grew
like any other Blackman
fighting to survive
in the motherland
where the strangers of New Guinea
are wringing our milk
and killing us
to turn us New Guinean.

Sleepless nights.
Doubtful days
I survived in agony.
In the cold jungle caves
and wild ridges
I travelled in tears and blood
away from the hovering gunships,
brawling gunboats
and rattling machineguns
that kept breathing at my tail
every beautiful morning.
Beautiful morning
for not a Bougainvillean
but the grubby New Guinean
who fell in love
with my mountain abode,
Panguna gold money.

There he is, shameless
corrupt New Guinean. Yu mas longlong pinis...
call me New Guinean
if I am a Redskin...
call me New Guinean
if the Shortland islands
are seven hundred kilometres away from me.
O yu uncivilized
Australian puppet!
Free my Bougainville...
my Bougainville.