Brown is the new goth

During the winter months of Melbourne I often listen to Bauhaus, A Certain Ratio, Siouxsie and the Banshees, and other such somber tunes. I had the revelation that I could easily write my childhood into a goth song. At some point I will perform  a variation of the following words with deep vocals, a bass with distortion and delay and appropriate costumery. For now it is a goth poem.

 

Goth poem

 

Grandfather knew not his name

Orphan raised in a colony’s shame

Indoctrinated with Jesus’ law

White hands drip silent gore

 

Father sought a better life

Better life with his good wife

God brought them across the sea

Terror Australis gave birth to me

 

Children taunt and children tease

With my skin I cannot please

Alone, run from the playground

With no words, no tears, no sound

 

School teaches ignorance

No talk of stolen innocents

Australia’s black history

To this child, unknown mystery

 

Heaven above, church so hollow

We offer hymns, empty echo

Jesus pale with open heart

Our father white in heaven art

 

Television screen, what can I see?

Where is the child dark like me?

With muppet monsters, far away

Small hope for a brighter day

 

Man-boy moonwalks the divide

We three dance, sister each side

Imitate, adorate, brother brown

Hear nothing brings us down

 

In the library, try find the words

In science fiction, other worlds

Look in, until I can look out

Fantasy within, and without

 

The darkness of my shadows

And the brownness of my flesh

Mark the limits of dominion

What your gaze cannot enmesh