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The Territory of the Little People - Storm Clouds Approaching

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  The Territory of the Little People - Storm Clouds Approaching The atmosphere over Pine Creek churns before it breaks. The sky stops being a distant ceiling, and tears open into a fevered, gestural vortex, churning in fierce ribbons of cadmium gold, raw ember, and bruised ink. Here, in the suffocating stillness of the build-up, the heat plays violent tricks on my inner eye. As the squall gathers, the twisting ironwoods and fractured ridges don't feel empty; they crawl with the uncanny belief of the Little People, low-slung, watchful phantoms spun from wire, red dust, and dry static, waiting out the road's fragility. Every jagged branch and swirling filament of cloud becomes a face, an arm, a sinister presence breathing inside the rising storm, drawing the traveller deeper into the delirium of the interior. Be Creative and Innovative with Knowledge John Bennett - AKA JJFBbennett , is an independent artist. You can view and subscribe to my work via  Blogger , YouTube , Fl...

Ulladulla Cut 2019




We only want to be provided clues 
No longer do we want our problems answered
From now on - dismantle and search
Under this contractual biosphere 
Knowing all of the hyped-up falsities
The everyday inference
My overvalued ideas 
Our failed continuum 


It was always out of reach
Barriers no matter how small 
Barrier no matter how thin
Have held me in sway

Cutthroat capitalism
Empires and colonies
Subjected new frontiers
Past crimes held beyond reproach


My car is making me fat
I no longer walk
These streets are devoid of humans
Nobody is noticing that everything is wrong
Until a barbarian walks by
Then cries of horror are heard


We come to catch a glimpse of the primitive
The pre-capitalist primitive 
The pre-Christian primitive
With the convenience of coffee and shops
Not quite the real thing
Commodification
Taking photos
Buying artifacts


The Ulladulla Gatekeeper
In tribute to Russell Drysdale
In the greatness of the Gatekeeper's Wife
The opposing force

Of our voice
Of the audience 
Retelling and redistributing
Not one but many thousand
Can you hear my echo


Botany Bay Social Primitive

Standing within a political junction
In the footsteps of mass transportation

For the public good
And the complicated machinery of engineering a coexisting place
Racist stereotypes used to justify colonial conquest
To establish our  newfound enlightenment
As a legitimate entity 
As settlers obscuring the travesty of invasion




The British went on and imposed
Their penal settlements
Through conflict and violence
The natives were systematically killed

Declarations were made
Martial law was established
The kingdom's territories became larger
The kingdom became more powerful
Leaving us with symbols of grace














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