Anthracite

The earth has fallen on me, it’s dark and timbers still groan

Fear hurts more than the rocks resting on me and I feel them sigh

Digging in this hole feeds my family and stops the rich man’s moan

But buried under these tons, I dig because I don’t know how to say goodbye

Not afraid of the dark or that my legs are gone but rather which way is up

Some things are acceptable and I may never walk again but neither will I fly

My breath tastes the black dust that has been my friend but I need out of this club

Because I can’t go yet, I’m just not ready, I haven’t practiced how to say goodbye

The moaning stops and the only sound is the blood in my ears as I contemplate solipsism

I might be blind as I scratch against the dark rock, with my dark hands and I know I cry

There will be remorse from a rich man for a short while as he makes use of the system

And as a million tons take my life from me I despair I will never be able to say goodbye.

The crunching of coal beneath my feet
reverberates into my mask
its voice comforting but unwelcome
my breathing loud and expressive

kneeling to him my heart fills
with tightness and naïve hope
the want to rip my mask off and
call to him is strong but means death

my nose runs but it can’t be wiped
ears run out and over he rubber
filling he inside with humidity
he plastic fogs like he inside of my head

he looks peaceful from many days of sleep
I place my hand gently under his head
careful not to hurt which is silly
as he will feel no more

my lamp catches his dull eyes
and through he foggy plastic
they scream questions unanswered
as his face slides off to one side

it is a long time to late
and i can’t understand why I still hope
become angry that he cannot hear me
he never will, ever again

and as we scoop him into black plastic
he panic rises like a fast growing weed
people loved his man I don’t know
and I will have to tell them

black bags at our sides
filled with our brothers
and another part of my heart
is in every one

like a babe to the breast
walking back in to he light
taking off he sticky mask
is welcome and relieving

bent and with broken hearts I become harder
black and unforgiving like he anthracite
in he hole we have just come from
……and will go back to

I am a bolter
punching steel into the rock
pretty good at brattice work
and a king in the bath-house block

I’m flying in and flying out
a dry camp to stop the strife
the pay is bloody excellent
and keeps me free of the wife

I don’t know how long it’ll last
digging black gold from the ground
greenies are toothless tigers here
so I suppose I’ll stick around

We came out bye rather quickly
and stood gathered in the night
the portal up the slope a bit
just there within our sight

disbelief parked on faces black
no teeth just eyes are seen
murmurs crawled about us
of the event that had just been

and as we watched the rising smoke
asking what rules were bent
knowing now that it carried
the souls of mining men

Just because it’s far away doesn’t make it right
It can’t be forgotten just because its out of sight
Men died to provide and feed his kin
It could be stopped so who owns this sin?
So has complacency thrived where empathy grew?
To what purpose, the death of 52.

RIP the 52 African miners

Pilgrim

Friends from the north stand and wave

Good times remembered, memories saved

The eucalypt is tall, fresh and strong

Creatures sing a good bye song

Then trees flow past and humidity dispels

The city beckons with horns and bells

New emotions fill ones thoughts

The future murky like milky quartz

But for now each day a new pressed shirt

As the pilgrimage ends,

then begins,

This honourable work

Another 18 died today
the grief of love is loud

And again the same incursion
agnosticism roaring in our ears

Our voices not to be heard
above the masters coin

R.I.P the Komi 18 – our brothers rest your souls.