Shared with dVerse Poetics – landscape. This one took a turn and describes the mixed feelings I have about one of the most beautiful cities in the world, one that I very much enjoyed meeting and living in for twenty-plus years.
Let me tell you a story, one that denies what is seen; because my eyes were open without understanding what had been.
The lemon eucalyptus was unknown to those such as me; star-eyed sailors on a voyage of discovery.
By the time of my arrival all the murdering was done, so I celebrated the widest skies while never holding a gun.
The abundant harbour waters the bridges that were since built, were symbols more than cricket to hide away our guilt.
Where the forest meets the city, right down to the water’s edge, all the sorries were insincere – the surf repeats its pounding pledge.
The floods and fires – lost control – so nature’s revenge befits; glass houses return to the rocks, like an opera that never quits.
I can hold you in my mind’s eye now that I’m so far away. Learned that anywhere is everywhere and everything is nothing anyway.
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
Self-Deception Is Our Enemy
When we think we already know We’ve halted our chance to grow Meet ego with hostility and contempt 24 hours a day – no one is exempt
Warrane’s children watched the tall ships come; now towers rise where the songlines hum, unbroken This scarred earth breathes beneath the city’s beat: a heart they couldn’t silence, slow, deep and true This earth remembers every footfall: songs of Gadigal sorrow and steel unspoken Lasting months or more, a communal, visible crying, the place always bound by grief
Two centuries of silence could not bury their song; they still sing their harbour home Images and names, kept memories – unseen, unsaid – the spirit safely travels through All these years of bleeding, the harbour knows; the rocks remember the cry of every stone Unresolved collective and intergenerational mourning, still seeking relief
Grief continues because the causes have never been fully acknowledged or repaired Death manifests through mass dispossession, disease, violence, and murder malevolent All the sorries are never finished, the deeper losses are continuously shared Peoples excluded from decision-making about their culture, heritage and land
Deep historical culture, reduced to plaques, acknowledgements, and museum displays Bulldozed by infrastructure and development; damaged or erased without consent The least I owe is attention, some respect; The least I owe is to not look away Protection laws weaker than commercial interests; consultation, a token hand
What my ancestors named discovery, the land remembers as interruption still I inherit the language of arrival without having paid the cost of entry I stand here in admiration, aware that the ground knows more than I ever will Just two centuries is but a heartbeat to a people who measure time undeclared Grief, which demands absolution, is only another way of asking to be spared
For a longette: The theme is social commentary (usually critical of the status quo and reaching towards a better/longer future) The title of a longette is long; 40 syllables The poem consists of 21 long lines—of 20 syllables each A longette has an ACAB rhyme scheme, with a final rhyming couplet: ACAB/acab/a’c’a’b’/A-C-A-B-/A’C’A’B’B’ The poem can be separated into 4 stanzas of 4 lines each, with a final stanza of 5 lines, or set without stanza breaks, at the poet’s discretion. Use of emojis is encouraged. The same emoji may be repeated throughout the poem, but if you want to use more than one emoji or symbol, you must conform to a 1312 scheme Emojis and other symbols are not counted as syllables. Collaboration is encouraged.
I couldn’t comprehend using emojis in a poem, though Catherin’s sample poem uses them well. And on re-reading the rules, I see that I actually used 21-syllable lines instead of 20! Perhaps I can claim to be the creator of this form now! Either way, I don’t think that I will be attempting it again soon!
I initially struggled to find a topic but as I discovered that Catherin is based near Sydney, a place I became very familiar with for 20 years, my mind kept coming back to Gadigal country. The Gadigal people being part of the Aboriginal owners of the land on which Sydney is built. The only problem? I knew next to nothing about the topic beyond the fact that my ancestors have completely fucked them over time and time again.
So I turned to AI for help. Here is the process I went through:
Prompt (Deepseek): I want to write a poem about the struggle of the Aboriginal people in Gadigal over time and need a 40-syllable title for it. What can you come up with?
I was hoping that a title would help trigger further ideas, which it did. I haven’t had much luck with syllable counts with Deepseek but it did come up with a set of phrases that I noted down before switching to Chat-GPT5 from here on out. I soon discovered that Chat-GPT could identify syllables per word correctly but then couldn’t add up the simple math totals correctly. Don’t trust AI with your maths!
Prompt: Can you give me information on how the Gadigal people mourn and also how they still struggle to be recognised?
Prompt: Can you suggest language that avoids appropriation while remaining powerful?
Prompt: What about some ideas around ‘white guilt’ for the deeds of our ancestors and how to think about that in the context of the Aboriginal people?
Prompt: I need to find some more poetic lines that deal with this perspective and issue – they need to be fairly long sentences. Ideas?
Prompt: Tell me more about this: “Many Gadigal people speak of ‘sorry that never finished’ “?
This poem is my selection of phrases taken from the various outputs of these prompts and then manipulated (by myself, not AI) to meet the form requirements. When I had finished, I asked AI to give me feedback on rhythm and flow and did a little more tweaking. At this point, though, I had been working on this poem for more than 5 hours and I know that I could improve it more with another 5 hours but….that’s enough. 5 hours is often 4 hours and 59 minutes longer than it takes me to write some poems!
I learned a lot through doing this exercise but tomorrow I’ll be aiming for something a little simpler!
With a hammer in hand Chiselling at the stone Crafting at the life planned In one’s thoughts alone
Painting cloudless skies To fall down to this earth Daydream a new surprise Meaning defines its worth
An artist in every way Reflecting deep-held traits When words can never say The statue silently states
Today I’m feeling:
Pretty good but in some pain. I fell asleep on my back last night which was pretty unusual for me but I soon woke up needing to pee. Back to side sleeping, my shoulders ached me awake again a few times so when my alarm went off I wanted to sleep a bit more but then I was feeling pain on the left side of my jaw as my rotten teeth decided it was time to tell me to go back the dentist. With needing to pee again it was time to get up. I still managed to motivate myself with a 100 star-jumps and out to have a day of coffee, reading and ironing.
Today I’m grateful for:
Being able to watch a funny podcast on YouTube that made ironing 17 shirts more pleasant than normal.
The best thing about today was:
I found out Hayden has a new girlfriend called Vashti and I was surprised to hear that she is Aboriginal. I’m not sure why I find that surprising. I only ever met his first girlfriend who was a stereotypical pretty blonde-haired blue-eyed girl. He sounded very happy today and looking forward to his new job doing support work which he is hoping to start in the next week or two.
What was out of your control today and how did you handle it?
In general, the garden is out of my control or more specifically it is too big and I’m too lazy to get it under control fully. My priorities lay elsewhere. Handled by Amy asking if we needed the gardeners to come again to which I replied ‘Yes!’
Something I learned today?
Having removed a ton of YouTube subscriptions I returned to Little Chinese Everywhere and Yan’s journey from Europe to China. This time she was in a small Georgian village nestled in amongst rolling green mountains. One particular interaction stood out to me when the old lady owner brought breakfast and Yan said thank you in Georgian and the old lady gave her a hug and said thank you in Chinese. It reminded me of the goodness within most of humanity.
What mystery fascinates me?
Ultimately the mysteries of the truths of the world. Growing to be more aware of histories written by victors or manipulated by those in a position of strength I’m left contemplating what it is that I know that is true. So many lies are so often repeated these days and so much information and counter-information is available. What is it that I should believe?
Mysteries of origin, the universe, the planet, humanity. How can it not entertain the mind? The existential mystery of meaning.
The mystery of what I will eat tomorrow.
I took this picture because I found Tigger sitting here in the unkempt grass and though his colour is stark against the green in this picture he somehow blends in and would be difficult to spot for unsuspecting critters wandering by. Here he just seemed to be enjoying the sun after dinner and looking a little majesterial.
1994ever 