Can You Kill A Poet? “Our government” Kills Poets!

Words by Kylie Supski

For ABC Poetica

Perhaps, I attracted you, with this eye-catching title, but
it is up to you. You can take The Blue Pill, and continue
to live in a coma, a coma induced by words of Murdochs
and Packers, endorsed by “our government.” Or You can
take The Red Pill, read my words, “and I show you how
deep the rabbit hole goes. Remember: all I’m offering is
the truth. Nothing more.” (Matrix.)

I was recently at “Dan Poets,” one of many Melbourne
Spoken Word events. The theme of the day was
      “Dead Poets Society”.
We read words of poets who are no longer alive. No,
they are not dead. Poets live within their words, and
as long as we read and listen to poets words they never,
nonever die. So a question is
      Can you kill a poet?
“Our government” by shutting down ABC Poetica did
just that. They killed poets whose words were spoken
and listened to during Poetica shows.

Perhaps, you may ask
      Why? Why Poetry is so important?
      Can we live without Poetry?
Years ago, I was studying mathematics, specialising
in Logic. At that time, I was often asked why would
you study Logic. I can answer this question now.
Logic is the DNA code for science. Without Logic
most of the things that we use today would not be
possible. Poetry is like Logic to science. Poetry is
a DNA code of our culture that develops through
words which are spoken and written.

One of the greatest writers, W. H. Auden, once said
in his poem “In Memory of W. B. Yeats”
      “poetry makes nothing happen.”
Perhaps, some of you would consider Auden’s words
as a dismissal of poetry. But I think, what Auden
meant was that poetry can make anything happen.

The avant-garde composer, John Cage, in his work
“Lecture on Nothing,” said
      “I have nothing to say / and I am saying it /
      and that is poetry / as I need it.”
To paraphrase, all words we say and write are poetry
as we need it. Poetry is everywhere. In our letters to
friends and lovers. In our personal diaries. In our daily
conversations. Words are often considered the best
form of therapy. Words help us cope and survive
many adversities we so often face in our lives.

Couple of years ago, I was at a point in my life ready
to give up. My concerned daughter gave me an empty
diary. Only one page was covered with words, her words.
Here is what she said:
      “I am giving you this book so maybe you will
      write again. The book is red, and red means
      love. And I love you, so the colour is perfect.”
The pages stayed empty for a while, until one day words
started to flow onto the pages of My Red Diary. Initially
words of other poets, but these words inspired me to write
again. The words, that you are reading now, were written
in My Red Diary.

My daughter recently told me, that she is receiving emails
with poems written by children currently being held in
Australian detention camps. They said to her, that writing
and knowing that perhaps, someone will read their words,
helps them to survive
      The Horror of
      Australian Detention Camps.

So what happened to “our country?”
     Why are we no longer
          “Land of the Fair Go?”
     Why is golden soil and wealth no longer
          for all of us to share?
     Why for those who’ve come across the seas
          have we built detention camps to share?
     Why is our culture once so rich and full of growth
          now being destroyed?
     Why does “our government” kill poets and take
          away the freedom to speak and write words?

Perhaps by now you’ve noticed, that when I write
the words
     “our government”
these words are enclosed in quotes. “Our government”
is not ours. It is not even a government. It is an assembly
of spineless puppets whose strings are pulled by

     The 1%.

The 1% who controls all the resources and wealth.
They have no interest in our culture or words.

Their ideology is
     “growth for the sake of growth, like Edward Abbey
      once said, the ideology of the cancer cell.”

Now when we know, it is up to us, to find the cure.

Annie Solah