I told my Friends

I told my friends I was leaving,
I couldn’t remain in a country
where my words were judged
by my beliefs and ideas.
I couldn’t live in a place
where art was suffocated
gagged and controlled.
I told them, during a cold
and windy night,
in our secret meeting place,
while reading our poems
written with angry words
and dreams of freedom.
I’ve heard of writers
who disappeared, were imprisoned,
questioned and judged,
there houses raided and robbed.
‘I’m frightened,’ I said.
Not a word was uttered,
and with their heads down
they left the writers’ corner
behind the friendly pub.

**

Santiago

Santiago was a rabbit
a rabbit who behaved
and believed he was a cat.
On cold winter nights
he scratched at the door
to get into the warm
and welcoming kitchen.
Santiago jumped on beds,
slept on our laps
he liked to be tickled
be brushed and be loved.
I think I saw tears
in Santiago’s eyes
when, with a sad and
trembling voice I told him,
‘I am sorry Santiago,
We cannot take you with us,
in Australia you are vermin.’

**

Defiance

‘Don’t tell your in-laws
that you work as a waitress
dressed up as an Indian. They’ll
think we have all gone mad.
….and your husband
he’s so angry and annoyed
Give up that silly job!’
Recriminated my mother.
‘Mother, can’t you understand
that I want to study
I want to help people
I need my own money
to pay for university fees.’
‘So when you study
you’ll never be home.
resentment and sorrow
will be the result.
Your husband will leave you,
your children will hate you.
You’ll be left in your own.’
‘I know what I want.
I know where I’m going,
don’t worry about me.
Don’t think I’m a child
Mum, I’m a grown-up now!’

**

It’s Time

The Tea Lady is wearing
a big badge on her coat,
it says, ‘IT’S TIME’.
I ask my workmates,
‘What does it mean?’
‘She’s mad’.
and one of them grunts,
and another retorts,
‘She will vote Labor.
We Liberals don’t like 
Whitlam’s talk or his promises.’
Next day, I anxiously wait
for the Tea Lady to come.
At ten we arrange
to meet at lunchtime.
we sit on the patio
of the pub next door
we drink beer and smoke.
She tells me about Whitlam,
his vision and dreams.
She also tells me 
about Medibank,
the free health insurance,
about pensions and benefits,
and the most important of all
she tells about no – university fees.
‘You should know about Al Grassby
he is all for the “wogs”. I sigh
and explain, ‘It’s so difficult 
to read the newspaper.
I can read books but the papers…’
She says she will teach me
about the Labor Party and its men.
She even promises to take me
to some of their meetings.
‘They’ll be happy,
they want people like you.’
I raise my eyebrows and ask
‘People like me?’
‘Yes, new Australian,’ she says.

**

Morning Drama

Mother angry shouts at me
to come and get the girls
dressed for school or else.
The girls refuse to go to school,
“What’s the problem?’ I ask her.
They don’t want to wear shoes.
They want to wear their hippie sandals
‘…and the sandwiches we take to school,
are silly and stale. We want fairy bread,
or bread with Vegemite or peanut butter, and, and
cookies made of cornflakes.”
I let them wear the sandals
to my mother’s horror, who believes the teachers
will think we are peasants if the girls don’t wear
their black leather shoes. I beg mother not to worry
and to the girls I promise that they will shortly have
all the fancy food they want for lunch.
I’d heard of Vegemite and peanut butter,
but not about “fairy bread” and cornflake cookies?
The morning drama was temporarily solved.
As I shower I ponder who will teach me 
about this ‘fancy food’.

 ————————————-

Dr Beatriz Copello, is an award-winning writer and a former member of NSW Writers Centre Management Committee. She writes poetry, reviews, fiction and plays. Her poetry books include Women Souls and Shadows, Meditations At the Edge of a Dream, Flowering Roots, Under the Gums Long Shade, Witches Women and Words and Lo Irrevocable del Halcon and Renacer en Azul (In Spanish). Other books include Copello are: A Call to the Stars, Forbidden Steps Under the Wisteria and Beyond the Moons of August (Her Doctoral Thesis). Copello’s poetry has been published in literary journals such as Southerly and Australian Women’s Book Review and in many others journals and she has read her poetry at events organised by the Sydney Writers Festival, the NSW Writers Centre, the Multicultural Arts Alliance, Refugee Week Committee, Humboldt University (USA), Ubud (Bali) Writers Festival and various events in Spain, Italy and Argentina. She also reviews extensively and her critical work has appeared in The Compulsive Reader, NSW Writers Centre, Australian Society of Women Writers and Rochford Street Review. Her latest collection of poetry, No Salami Fairy Bread, is available from Ginninderra Press

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