Australian Gothic

 


The land 
Where there are no crumbling castles 
No bloodsucking vampires
No ancient monsters
No antiquity
Too immature for proper history

The terror is unseen
The terror has been repressed 
Through imperial violence, fear, and subversion
Mass transportation to the dungeon of the world


50 thousand years 

Then came
The water buffalo
The missionaries
Pastoral activity
Uranium mining
Forestry
Tourism

Sheer relentless pressure
Bringing forth crisis and social breakdown
And obligated to make way


We sense their dread
As they combined the elements to create a threat

A social, religious, and physical threat
The darkest mountain
The deepest canyon
There is no escape

THEN

There are those who predicted the threat
Those who compose the realities of impending horror 
Those who shepherd the flock into their shelters

As we return to our nooks and anticipate their foretold slaughter


When you feel an object is both alive and not alive

Consecrated
Special powers
Invisible forces
Made powerful for human purpose

As the hypothetical force manifests as a feeling
And imprinted onto spirits from an earlier age

Seeing and being as the inanimate object


I traveled down this isolated road.
Until I came along this nest.
An industrious, damned, and isolated nest.

I was taken in as ill.
Care told me I was seriously ill.
I heard each voice within the Formica.
Each manic statement constructed through hard work and stealth.

Take pride in your productivity.

This became my apparition. 
As I progressively became not of service.



Outer World Arial Flight

Indistinguishable
Living inside of our simulation
Knowing
Their posthuman conscious minds
Timelessness
The point of realization

Complex operational decision making
Improved problem-solving
Outperforming previous benchmarks
Until it is the reality that lags
And fear is no longer an essential element
And the allure is reiterative reenactive simulation
But what we experience is fake, false, and faux


Outer World Croc Country

Outerworlds
Borderlands
Borderlining

A heritage of self-destructive loops  
All the ins and outs
Repeating over and over again
Never feeling satisfied

Destined to demand more

Cascading into a living hell
Where all is in threat
And the darkest most difficult path is taken


Borderlining Borderlands Scorched Earth

Go ahead and do it
Trigger the events outside of normal
Stigmatized to the fringe
Shelter and hide
In rage and panic
Until proficiency of intimidation is  demonstrated
And in isolation shut-in

Hearing phantom footsteps
I realized that the screams were mine
In the slowness of time
And enormously disturbed
This my formidable foe
Dwelling within inanimate objects
Militarised 

Ready to scorch
I will destroy all that is useful
To prevent you, my advancing enemy, from profiting


Cooinda the Night Falls

Which one of us carries the sickness
As we desperately stretch and seal normality
As it is
As it should be

Was it the diner's deep reflection
Or was it the gun carrier's reflex action
As we resolved our crimson-eyed, three-headed beast 
Into our own very personal hell



The Night Falls Gunman

“I’ll give you my gun when you pry it from my cold, dead hands”
Be that in homicide or suicide
At home or in public spaces

At mercy to error-prone cognitively biased Americans
The sheriff and guardian of world order

Men who carry guns suffer
Outside of perceived volition
This American horror story of liberty and freedom
The great American dream



Bark Hut Inn Bat Woman Arrives

Brutally dispossessed.
Placed onto a reserve.
And promised rations.

Detering the minority from becoming the majority.

All stand-down when aesthetics enters the room.
Imagined realities.
Perspective from the darkness.
Obsessions, failure, and virtue.
Anxieties, fear, and panic.

How did we know the world?
Our ghosts of opportunity and precious wealth.
Our unspeakable and inexpressible horror.
To evoke and convey our superior taste.


Her apparition 
Woven into horrific histories 
Tied into every each one of us 
Centuries-old phenomenon 
In every thought
Behavior 
Action

There is no standing alone
As we explain them all
As we justify them all
At a distance from our standing position
And our physical sensibility 

This the power of reactive stimuli
fight-flight-freeze dismiss


Knowing and in the moment
You are lost

Fluids are lost
Pulsation
Rapid shallow breaths
Hallucinations have begun

Your internal controls have stopped 

Knowing it is too late for a systematic-review
There is nobody with you

Alone 
Fully awake and unresponsive
Whilst waiting to be retrieved from this world


Bamboo Green Lantern and Crocodiles

Safeguard your vulnerabilities
This is no enchanted forest


Proving yourself worthy against
Carnivorous self-doubt
Crippling fear 
Overwhelming guilt



Kakadu Search and Burn

When long-term memories are created 
They control and inhibit,
What can be seen 
Regulation

Evolutionary remnants
Functions of the executive
Locked us down
Controlled

Ancient thoughts
Stored deep with 
Our multi-layered mind
Driving consciousness 

Sensing self
We are easily stimulated to burn 
To search for and to blame external forces 


Territory.

In the making of a justified state. 
Authority.
Over this place. 
Drawing up of the boundaries.
And contesting borders.

What is now taken for granted.
Assumed and enforced by might.

Living under the jurisdiction of the authority.
Of controlled resources.
Regulated.

Where the government says, who may enter.
Where ownership is enforcement through punitive powers. 

Under the territorial right-holder.
Australia settled as a constitutional monarchy.


Angel of the Black Stump

Not knowing their prevalence. 
But forever experiencing great pain, loss, and crisis.
Our challenges. 
Our recovery.

To deny.
To repress.

Living with disturbance.
And the failure to reach personal goals,
and to self-control unwanted thoughts.
The flames that take us beyond ourselves.










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