In my mind, I raced against time
I smoked peyote with the Apache
I chased Kangaroos
Through the bush with the Aborigine
All the while
...I searched for the power within me

In my mind, I outpaced time
I drew cave art with the Neanderthal
I climbed to the top of the mountain with the Sherpa
I hunted seal out on the frozen tundra with the Inuit
All the while
...I searched for the power within me

In my mind, I eclipsed time
I wrote poetry while under the tutelage of Langston Hughes
And I created visual greatness while apprentice to Gordon Parks
I even stood on the wall with Che' Guevara, like a Sentry standing watch
All the while
...I continued searching for the power within me

In my mind, I turned to face time
I wrote an addendum to the Emancipation Proclamation
And I saw the ugly truths
Of freedom's farcical Declaration
All the while
...I continued searching for the power within me

In my mind, I embraced time
I sought to free my nation from the pandemic perils of *******
And I prayed that we Americans would be free of
The snares of racial and economic divide that still has us chained
I did this while searching for truth, in this, our most tenuous hour
...then empyreally, God reached for me, touching me, and I finally found my power

* Reprinted from 'Exegesis a Decade of Poetry by Mekael'
© July 14, 2009 by Mekael Shane

A satisfied appetite is a simply joy

Overlooked and simplified

Like a growing urge, a salivating need

That is entrancing and glorified.



Everlasting for moments we call meals

Forgotten in time, lingering above

But the taste, the lonesome lover pushed aside

Gazes afar and near wanting to be enjoyed again



The young lady with a tongue of raspberry delight

And the matured widow with darkened cacao lips

Ripening nectar of a sliced peach center

Halved and topped with mascarpone crème



The man with a skin of caramel glaze

Caressing and savoring

With a fragrance and scent

Of hazelnut coffee indulgence and sin



In the pursuit of a brief love affair

What oral sensation did my taste buds want?

My odyssey of gustatory endeavors await

Through the seas of lined people and waiting staff



Generous portions and humble pies

Decadent desserts so rich you’ll die


Vine cherry tomatoes sliced and sauté

Over al dente rigatoni in a roasted cashew sauce

A robust aroma and savory appeal

Basil leaves with garlic strips

Olive oil to top the surreal


Hubristic meatball aborigine  

Elysian cuisine or many dreams


Teasing the senses, warming the pit

Of flowing pleasures

And tingling fingertips

Without moral measures

And succulent wines

Rotisserie lamb falling of the bone

Seasoned with Sicilian herbs

And paired with broiled asparagus

Drizzled with lemon juice


And a glass of Merlot

Spices I hardly know



Lachrymose apologies beside a bottle of faded sorrows

With love there is pain, passion endured through the names

Thin soups, flavorless and dull, feeding street-thrown bums

Breathing hard against the delicatessen glass


Hickory smoked hams, pepper-seasoned pastrami

Vinegar cultured pickles and hard dried salami


Unpleasured, without measure, at one's leisure.
Forever my endeavor

Blackcurrant tea laced with slivers of gooping honey
Layers of cinnamon hair atop olive skin

red-painted doors with cedar trim
crushed almonds mixed with hazelnut butter cream spread

devilish rounds of crumbling ***-swirl bread

Smells and wonders, tastes so ...

oh god

Divine and sublime.

Digeridoos are back in stock
Said the notice in the bric-a-brac shop
Are the West of Scotland Numpties
On their own Dreamtime quest?
Are they contemplating their navels
Through the holes in their stringvest?
Could they realize their chip-papers
Hold the answer to their havers
And the Buckfast in the Hand gripped
Tight is causing calluses in the brain.
Corks dangling from their hats
Swinging like disorientated bats
In ryhthm to the dance of delirious tremor
The adrenaline is pumping.
Mossies no, but midgies, aye,
A stark contrast to the Kappa motifs;
Are the natives going walkabout,
In the local run-down mall?
Calling everyone mate,
In an accent you love to hate
Walkabout, lost in the wilderness
Wandering through the bush.
Outback here there ain’t no
Crocodiles, only quilted, padded cells.
Hand to wall a red imprint,
Not paint, my boy, but blood.
This lot would embarrass any Aborigine
Because they havnae got
An original thought.

Incandescent, the mystic sign burrowed into
Their untarnished consciousness
Depositing meaning where before,
In related specie, there’d been none. Ok,
At first it didn’t seem such a big thing but
Later, much later, it was.

Creating an object d’art is one thing
For a man wearing animal skins but an entire
Nation is another matter. It took time.
That said, going back seems like just another way
Of going forward.

Out of the encroaching sands crept a single idea
Made out of many others. A pyramid rose out of smaller
But more elegant definitions of power. The greater the power
The vaster the ****** pyramid became,
Enclosing space with a giant flat footstep. Khufu
Lay within, disintegrating slowly,
Convinced of his godlike nature-while minor royalty
Found cheaper ways of preserving body and soul.
Sand covered the Sphinx for two thousand years
Alexander’s body disappeared, Caesar, a manipulative bald
Headed coot ended up under a memorial stone,
Equally godlike and dead.  

Cleopatra may not have been hot after all
But having powerful lovers and dying gracefully
Did wonders for her profile. Long dead,
An icon of femininity and ****** allure, she lives
Forever in a world that desires both.
Quin **** Huangdi surrounded himself with lifelike soldiers
In a bid to recreate reality, as if
Death could be touched by an illusion. Surrounded
By a mercury lake, buttressed by an unmoving army
His bones are as empty in their fashion
As the peasants he ruled over. Can’t cheat it, or
Beat it. Can’t ignore it either.

The personality continues through
Memory aids. A huge gravestone serves as well-
As Khufu discovered. Deeds recorded in
Verse works, but in both methods
The myth becomes greater and the real person,
The one who cried at funerals, failed during ***,
Gets forgotten. Might just as well
Do nothing. It takes less energy, leading
To less disappointment.

The desire to extend privileges into death
Where nothing exists
Is the fantasy of the spoilt for whom life
Must be eternal. An Australian aborigine who
Rallied his people in overdue rebellion against
The European hordes bringing sheep and planting grass
Was killed, stuffed and displayed in an exhibition.
Khufu had himself stuffed and displayed. All famous people
Are stuffed in time and displayed like curios
Dying again and again throughout eternity.

Hello and welcome to Glebe Park and there is a lot of excitement happening here to celebrate the first reconsilation day and on the main stage we had the griffin ensemble and the music they played was very calm and relaxing and there are a lot of different activities happening all over Glebe Park
Yes, the indigenous Australians will be happy but the day has only just began and about to come onto the main stage is the great dale Huddleston and he is known to be a rocker country singer and dale’s music is very good the first song is Arnhem Land dreams and the next song is an aborigine and I go walking
And dale has a great voice and has the crowd sitting there being thoroughly entertained
And he sang that with so much pride and the next song was written about a place called black fellas point and around me the crowd are walking and sitting buying food and one old man is tapping his foot, very exciting, yeah dale you know how to sing and you are a classic to play for reconciliation day here in Glebe Park
And the next song was about the simple things in life like when he wrote the song his daughter was being born and that was the happiest day of his life and he really treasured that day and now he is about to sing
Home is where the heart is which to me will mean you go off and have all these adventures but when you go home you feel love and looked after and he sings about water and listening to country music on the radio and many more exciting things but at the end of the day home is where the heart is
Dale Huddleston is now leaving the stage and he really showed us is version of aboriginal culture and he didn’t disappoint anyone in the crowd
The next singer is **** whose music represents aboriginal and Torres straight Islander rights
In this world and I can tell you he is a bit of a rapper but his music does really suit the occasion and now he is singing or rapping out the heavens opening up to create the rain coming down which he tries to get people to understand that we need to focus on being positive despite all the problems they have in the world and music especially his kind of rap does focus on the positive
They are talking about making reconsiliation an every day event not just today because if you did everyone would live in harmony with one another
The next act is the feature act named busby Marou and they are starting to sing loudly but cool as they sit up on the high seat this band is from Queensland and they are here celebrating aboriginal culture
They are showing Queensland’s great oceans and sunshine in their music which is a good thing for this wonderful day
This next song is titled full moon
And this song really explains the meaning of this day like as long as we respect that aborigines were on this land first it will be alright and after that they played a song called blue road which was written back in the early days and it has a great beat as well as a great meaning
So fantastic and if you remember the 90s when they had a song called my island home well busby marou did a version of it and I can tell you they are singing it with so much meaning saying whatever you do you must remember your island home will be waiting for you so just do whet you see fit
And each song explains whether or not you make mistakes and you could try and fix it and you fail But that doesn’t mean much because in life you can have fun
And if you play your cards right
You won’t fail as long as you don’t make anymore mistakes
The music is really moving and great and it has heaps of meaning of this day and then after that they played a classic cindy lauper hit girls just want to have fun which was dedicated to all the girls out there and each of the girls starting clapping, yes a very good version of that song
After that they started to play a song to keep the rain away from Glebe Park and as the played that song the sun pokes itself through the cloud, there is a wind but no rain and they make this rain song sounds cool doesn’t it and then they sang a song called the best part of me is you which has a lot of great meaning to it as well as having a lot of people sitting on the grass of the chairs really enjoying the music and they will finish with a song called paint this land which is their reconsiliation song which is an artists song as you look around people are painting pictures of this land from north to south and east to west great song this is
As we are sitting here enjoying the fun at Glebe Park for reconsiliation day we are going to see some great aboriginal music with the didgeridoo as they have got body paint on them and the music sounds quite nice and pleasant
And as the Chant went on two women came on and with the leaves they swept the land clean and yes, this is ever so great and doesn’t the didgeridoo sound great and I can see other people gathered behind the stage to continue this great music and after that they have some audience participation where they made them do a few arm movements and then they had a laugh saying I feel like chicken tonight like chicken tonight and that is what this day is about having a bit of a laugh and I believe aborigines need to have a day like this because it explains their culture and after that they brought all the kids down to do the kangaroo dance and this got the kids really excited and
Each kid is enjoying being kangaroos and we are up to the last act and it will be interested what interesting dances they will perform today, well the first dance is the paddle dance which has a catchy tune and an interesting tune and as I was waking away from the main stage I was walking over to the middle and busker and former voice star Lucy Sugerman playing a few of her very own songs and she is sounding very good as she has performed at events before but for her to be at the first reconsiliation day was a great opportunity for her
And she is playing her keyboard
Well her music I guess is great music for this day and then she sang a bob Dylan song and she sang it very well, well she has got a great voice
She certainly lets out plenty of meaning in her music and then as I was walking out I heard a blast from the 80s with the song let’s hear it for the boys but two great men singers and they make the song sound like it is really cool and I had a great time watching the reconsiliation day concert and I will definately be back next year
Catch ya

A sacrilegious act of gross desecration
akin to genital exposure in a Christian
Church, is walking into a Mosque with
boots and guns during Ramadan prayer.

Not an act associated with the oppressed.
Take Maori, Aborigine or Native Americans,
observe their composure, but you, the Jew,
you have no such serenity of spirit, why?

Why do you force feed your holocaust?
Why do you need to insist that we believe?
Why are you making denial a crime?
We all know why, that’s what bothers you.

Whereas last night the full moon made the night resemble a cold day
Today clouds give the night its old shrouded, crowding demeanor.
Ghosts stalk the forest gleaming (at me) from just beyond the circle
      of light thrown by the fire.
You, old night, I wish to make my peace with.
Eventually I know even I (I think, I'm told) must enter naked, a cold
      north wind in winter or a gentle September breeze instructing my
      sole spirit . . . .

There exist powers overwhelming for the human body and mind.
The aborigine's untold night of meditation on the mountain, coming
      away with his life-long totem and power.
The mountains tonight are alive with benevolence that could (for one
      lacking humility and respect or the hunter's perspicacity) flame up
      into insane malevolence.
You, old complete night, I wish to make my peace with
Being utterly a creature of the water and the light.

Night on the mountain, the human animal alone, without cohorts,
      speech and music inane without other ears to listen
Yet blasting, blasting against the night
Even after fire dies, its skin still the halo beacon to nothing in nothing,
Mind pouring on the electricity, outward to friends back in the cities
Receiving in return only strange sounds.

The ear must differentiate and protect.
Just as fluids within keep the body balanced so must the ear when
      the eyes are blinded by night
Balance the mind. Eyes, heroes of the day, enjoying orgiastically
      autumnal delights
Are now slaves to every primeval passion of the mind.
But the ears: it is a sound they have heard before and can identify.

Night, old strange night (were we once acquainted?), I wish to be at
      peace with you by becoming knowledgeable.
Fear like fire clings to its fuel.
I wish to dampen passionate fears by attuning the five senses to all
      that is normal dark and day.
To know the habits and cycles of everything I live beside
And my inner spirit become a silent tide attuned to nature's lunacy.