Max Davine's Blog, page 3

There is another version

There is another version on this story...

I am stronger,
You are braver,
Pur hearts were not so hurt before.

You don't wander,
I don't pander,
We build upon our lucky score.

We talk together,
Share together,
And parting isn't sad or sore.

Living, sharing,
Loving, caressing,
Lavender sunsets forevermore.

You've let him go,
I've moved on,
We're free for when we meet.

There is no running,
There is no fear,
We love each other complete.

I saw you,
You saw me,
It was easy as can be.

True to ourselves,
A world of forever,
Somewhere in a distant dream.

Choose Life

I chose life.
I chose love.
I chose forevers.
I chose the heart.
I chose her.

She chose fear.
She chose lies.
She chose bitterness.
She chose the cold.
She chose him.

I choose life.
I choose love.
I choose forevers.
I choose the heart.
I choose me.

Adventures in Moral Outrage Land

So...it was a bit of a first for me today. I got involved. I jumped on the hashtag wagons and promised that #iwilllistentowomen . I want to see it get the coverage that the Coward's Punch did, when it changed King's Cross forever, and the AFL and Danny Green spoke up, and the tragic deaths of young men who were merely in the wrong place at the wrong time were condemned universally. Justly. It was outrageous, and it drew outrage from us all. I want to see that level of support for women who are victims of circumstance.

Maybe not.

After all, those victims weren't dressed in a way that allured their attackers. They weren't warned by nursery rhymes not to walk home alone at night. So maybe I won't see that. Maybe I can get the same coverage as Thomas the Tank Engine, when Sunrise falsely claimed it was being removed from preschool reading lists. What did poor Thomas ever do? It was outrage - Australia was foaming at the mouth over the cruel, heartless lefty agenda. Director Luke Launer even said it was "Satan's work". The fire was so intense it continued to be the topic of conversation on Fox FM's Fifi, Fev and Byron AFTER IT HAD BEEN DEBUNKED.

But, maybe not.

After all, the lefties are trying to change things that were when we were kids. Rapists were stalking the streets then, too, and "I grew up just fine."

It seems at times that I treat social media like my own personal social experiment and to a degree that's true, but this was much more than that. I shared this post because I am a white, heterosexual male. And single. In other words, I fit the description of the perpetrators of the rape and murder of Jill Meagher and Eurydice Dixon, as well as an astonishing number of others who go unreported and unrepresented. When a woman walks through a Victorian park late a night, it's man of my description she's thinking of while she clutches her keys like a weapon, or pretends to be on the phone to avoid. A man just like me would send cold shivers of fear through her for merely walking in the same park, at the same time. And I can't stomach that anymore.

So, whose fault is it, that this is how it is? It's not women's. Remember when Muhammad Ali compared white people to ten thousand rattlesnakes? He said, "if ten thousand rattlesnakes came at me right now, and one thousand were coming to protect me, would I let them all in, and hope that the one thousand do their job, or would I shut them all out?" - he had a point.

That makes it men's fault.

Men who commit these fathomlessly monstrous acts, yes. But also men who don't see the favoritism happening. Men who hear what women are saying, day in, day out, all as fibers in the tapestry we collectively call "feminism", either with favor or disdain, and choose to be offended, because they personally wouldn't do that, so why assumption? Men who conveniently block out the message that women - feminists - are trying to send us. It is not "accept everything we are saying unquestioningly", it is not "don't hold us accountable" and it is not "you are the cause of your own problems". It is one thing, and one thing only: listen to them, as though they were men.

Because there is not one man who can talk, and be shut down because of his "feminist agenda". There is not one man who can talk about the plight of men, and find himself bombarded with questionable news articles and anecdotal tales about how "we have it worse". It is listen to us, and judge us as you would a man. And for those who say "we do!" - you don't. Do you do not. Because there is not one word like "feminazi" for men. There is not one man who would call another man that word for speaking out against the coward's punch. There is not one man who would try to tell the victim of a coward's punch, or his family, that he was dressed inappropriately, or that he is responsible for his own safety, that he shouldn't have been out late at night and alone. Nobody is out there myopically teaching men self-defence classes in case they get coward's punched. There is not one council out there trying to educate men on how not to get coward's punched. And there is not nearly as many men out there getting anywhere near as outraged over women being attacked and killed in public places as there was over Thomas the Tank Engine.

We don't know what it's like to live with the fear that Crystal is expressing. We don't know what it's like for society to think it's normal that we bring horrifying violence down upon ourselves. That's why we have to listen. That's why #iwilllistentowomen.

A Note to my 18 Year Old Self

You're going the wrong way.
I know it wasn't fair.
I know that it was hard, and it hurt.
I know it seems like
Everything runs against you.

But don't go this way.
Hold on to you.
Don't fall in line, don't play.
You haven't got
What it takes anyway.

Keep loving too easy.
Open and ready.
Give too willingly, give it all.
Always text back
Even if you've nothing to say.

You won't be wanted.
With no game.
But don't play it, ignore it.
Stay the one
Who follows up, who calls.

They won't love you for it.
It'll be just the same.
Except you'll be you, always.
And you'll learn
To love you, when nobody else will.

I Saw Her

A moment's warmth,
Now ice takes hold.
So afraid of night,
The sunlight's cold.

A moment's love,
Now she's alone.
So afraid of pain,
She's afraid of home.

There once was peace,
Now chaos reigns.
Almost let in,
but she's gone again.

I saw her face,
I saw her eyes,
I saw the place,
He stuck the knife.

Almost was free,
Captive again.
Afraid of me,
Her love is pain.

She hides her tears,
She will not cry,
She hides her fears,
Behind green eyes.

Runs from the dawn,
Hides in the night.
Runs from her own,
Her heart she'll fight.

I saw her smile,
I heard her cry,
I stayed a while,
She ran to hide.

Gone is hope,
Gone is her heart.
Gone is love,
Gone is my heart.

Sucker

I am that suck,
That "friendzoned cuck",
I reply too quickly,
Give too much,
Always my heart on my sleeve.

No form they said,
Never get them in bed,
Loved with no luck,
Got "Oneitis" instead,
And never fulfilled my needs.

I always told truth,
Though it was no use,
Waited until the end,
Despite your abuse,
I followed my heart you see.

But oh to felt,
The love I was dealt,
The unrequited friend,
No notches in my belt,
But a feeling you'd never believe.

*Glossary of terms:

Friendzone - y'all know what that is. Originated in "Friends", in which Ross was the mayor.

Cuck - A cuck is a weak, effeminate, or inadequate man, who is often dominated by their female partner. It is considered derogatory slang. (wicktionary)
- 'Cuck' is an insult that reveals the sexual insecurity, misogyny and fear of those who use the term. (GQ magazine)
- contemporary variant of "cuckold"

Oneitis - Attraction towards a single potential partner to the exclusion of other possible partners. (Wiktionary)
- oneitis is a common affliction, especially amongst geeks, affecting millions of men and women daily. Symptoms can include feelings of hopelessness, heart palpitations, dry mouth, depression, anxiety and an inability to seek out other romantic or sexual relationships. (Urban dictionary)

Until You Hear My Song

*So I heard this Irish jig once, that had no lyrics. Just a fiddle playing the melody. But it's hard to have something stuck in your head when there's no words to sing! So I gave it my own.

Until I'm with you,
I will not know,
The touch of love,
That youthful glow.

Until I'm with you,
I will not see,
All this world,
For it's beauty.

Getting late, too late darling,
Why didn't you get my message?
How long, how long now?
Until you hear my song?
Round, round, running round,
Chasing all the roaming hearts but,
Put your feet back on the ground,
We'll make a brand new start.

Unless I'm with you,
It'll just be me,
To walk beneath,
The Autumn moon.

Unless I'm with you,
I'll dance alone,
To my heartbeat,
And just my own.

Getting late, too late darling,
Why didn't you get my message?
How long, how long now?
Until you hear my song?
Round, round, running round,
Chasing all the roaming hearts but,
Put your feet back on the ground,
We'll make a brand new start.

Unless you love me,
my heart will be,
Cold and hard,
as stone, you see.

Unless you love me,
I'll never be free,
To roam the seas,
Or live my dreams.

Getting late, too late darling,
Why didn't you get my message?
How long, how long now?
Until you hear my song?
Round, round, running round,
Chasing all the roaming hearts but,
Put your feet back on the ground,
We'll make a brand new start.

Unless we can be,
As one you know,
It will just be me,
Waiting alone.

Unless we can be,
In love, you see,
We'll never know,
What could have been.

Lavender Sunset

Under the lavender sunset,
stirred dreams that lay in wait,
as the sun lay down to rest,
dormant desires awake.

Underneath the milky clouds,
my hands begin to shake,
the world is silent all around,
two worlds gravitate.

We saw it all turn into dust,
the way we feared did take,
but beneath the soft violet dusk,
came a stirring for love's sake.

Again, the ache to feel your skin,
again, I fall into you,
the joyful sadness does begin,
and all the world is you.

But was that evening true?
Or is it just regret?
Did my heart sing for you?
Under the lavender sunset?

Christmas Card

Oh, my, it’s a tough time of year for some of us. It’s those few weeks at the end there, when no matter how great your friends are, or how many you have, everyone’s got something more important to do. It sounds awful, but I know. You might have spent the year thinking, not this time, only for it to come full circle again, even just at the last minute. Of you might have already been in that state of resignation that readied you for the onslaught of happiness that does not require you. See, I may not know what it’s like to be out there, raising a child alone, or to have gone through a divorce, but I do know how it feels to have that shadow behind you, threatening to make you believe you’re as useless as everyone has inadvertently made you feel throughout the year, culminating at this point. Where is that sweetheart you gave your time and attention to? Where is that affection, that never came in all the passing months and seasons? Where is that voice telling you, it’s all worth it? Did they go away? Where they ever there? I know how it feels to be the only one you can draw strength from, when the only person who believes in your is yourself.

It’s especially hard for the creatives, in this situation. The aspiring, the rising, even the accomplished. You’re fighting an uphill battle to be heard and appreciated as it is, your every ounce of energy is spent on being the one who sees your potential, and fights, every day, to achieve it. Because nobody has your back, and your industry doesn’t want you. See, I know.

All I can say is, don’t fall into that trap. Even if it’s true. Who knows, maybe we’re not meant to do it alone. Maybe we’re all built for co-dependence. This time of year is a cold reminder: you can be as defiant, embittered, strong, tough, savvy and self-supportive as humanely possible, it doesn’t dull the sting that late December bears. But, you know what? It passes. It ends. You’ve got a-whole-nother run starting in a week’s time. And maybe you’ll never achieve the heights you dream of, but is that why you do this? You do it for the love, right? So, love the fight. Give them a fight. If it’s to be a failure, make it one that will give them scars to remember you by. Make a mark, somewhere along the way, if not at the top. Never stop fighting, until the fight is done. Then, when you have nothing left, keep working. Keep going. See how fucked you can get.

Just don’t give up. I won’t either.

Only Begotten Son

Out of the dust of a gathering storm, the woman came to town, said she was waiting for the son.
Townsfolk asked her time and again, "how do you know this fella's gonna come?"
But she'd just smile and tell them all, "I'm waiting for the chosen one."

He was born a thousand miles far,
Came to life beneath the night's brightest star,
"I'll wait here, he'll come to me," the woman said, when news traveled past.

For years the people had believed in this man,
He knew they'd sought his image in rocks and sand,
Yet, "look only at life, see I am there", was the only hymn he sang.

He saw they'd built his temples high,
With machines and smog which blackened the sky,
Men got rich, from the poor who threw their pittance at his alter, at which they'd cry;

"See how we love you Lord,
See how we've wielded you holy sword,
And to your priests, all the power we accord."

But the son walked behind them, unseen,
Sickened by this horrible dream,
That had become, in his name, believed.

"Stop, stop you all!" he cried,
"For I promised you, it's love and life that I reside,
The pure earth, it is my home, which your temples have defiled."

But they ignored him, one and all,
Only at their phony alters they would fall,
All the while, he whom they loved, from the shadows watched, appalled.

In the middle of a clear August night, they knocked upon his door,
Highest men of holy matters, to ask him what he came back for,
"To guide you all back to the Lord, as I'd promised you before."

"Sit down, son," they said, "and understand; we need you no longer,
By spreading fear in your name, that is how we grow stronger,
Generations give their all to us, we seek the Lord no longer."

"But love the Earth," he quickly said,
"Your Lord is the trees and in the dirt, and the slimy river bed,"
"No my boy," the leaders sighed, "you were only good to us dead."

Into the wilderness, he ran,
seeking solace in the forest land,
but when he got there he found it razed, empty and bland.

To the marshes, then he fled,
But he found them poisoned, black, and dead,
So that his kingdoms could thrive instead.

He sought shelter by the coast,
but found only the ocean's pale ghost,
for it was now a city parasitic host.

Into the desert, where death abounds,
For what jewels grew there, that they'd strip for their crowns?
And that's when he found that lonesome, dusty town.

He reached the gates, and fell upon his knees,
"Father," he begged, "why again have you forsaken me?"
He wept for their misplaced love, the lies that they believed.

He woke in the hotel, and there he found her, and she asked what he did see?
"A bleeding Earth, the tears of children, and it was all because of me,
So I have fled into this desert, for the world that I shall grieve."

"Do you remember, long ago," she asked, "when I offered you so much?
Bread to end your hunger, kingdoms and power and such?"
"I denied," did he reply, "they had you wicked touch."

"Evil, me?" she asked, offended,
"That forest, those mountains, were kingdoms we could have defended,
Not the kingdoms of mankind, that was not what I intended!

"Neither did I guide the hands, which washed your blood away,
I do not worship the thing that killed you, or wear it on display,
It was not I who did desert you, upon that unholy day."

So the man wept, as he thought,
Of all the evil that has been wrought,
The cruelty, the suffering and death his first short life had brought.

"Both times I have shone my star, on the day of your birth,"
The woman smiled fondly, reminding him his worth,
"Even the deceivers said, the devil walks this Earth."

"So long have I wandered," she said, "amongst this misled race,
Watching the world slowly roll through infinite time and space,
Waiting until we could give him back his rightful place."

And with their union thus began,
The crumbling of machines to sand,
All the cities then were swallowed by convalescing land.

From their graves, the trees did grow,
So again the peaceful waters did flow,
And the innocent animals were forgiven, for how were they to know?