Hobbies & Games                                                                                                               Poetic Expressions  -3-           26-1-10: The poem presented here was written by one of our regular forum members. Our older Australians will fully remember the catastrophic events which happened at Maralinga (South Australia) during the time of atomic weapons testing by the British Government in 1956 and 1957. However, our younger Australians have been told very little about the years of shame. For those and for the sake of others who come after us, I have decided to publish this poem, which no doubt, was written with a very heavy heart and a lot of passion. I urge you to read the words, then remember them and make sure that such events shall never ever be repeated on Australian soil..... webmaster --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Background: The last piece of tribal land was finally returned to the Tjarutja people in December 2009.......over 50 years from the time the Govt under Bob Menzies took it from them to do their Atomic testing. The land will never be fit for human habitation for 250 million years and is still littered with Plutonium particles despite a supposed clean up by the British Government in 1964. Servicemen who were affected by the fall out and Aboriginal people are still battling to receive any worthwhile compensation form the Governments who caused this disaster The land is highly radio active.........and every time the wind blows, she shares her fetid breath with us all....... The red dust storms that blanketed Australia at the end of last year inspired this. THE THUNDER FIELDS OF MARALINGA Cross the red sands of the desert where the silver spinifex grows, winds are twisting, howling searching, all around they swirl and blow. Little eddies curl and turn like Mamu* neath the blazing sun dust devils from the plains spring up, each full of poison. Plutonium. From the tribal lands were driven, Kokothar, and Tjuntjuntjare. Reasons to them were not given,they were forced to travel far from the waters of Ooldea*, from their tribal red dirt lands. None took notice of their protests their 'future' in white mans hands. Wire appeared across the tracks and places where Anangu* went. Words were written on tin signs but they knew not what those words meant. Warning signs saying there's "danger do not enter" here no more. Anangu could not read English, so who were those signs put there for? Black smoke appeared, brilliant white light, was this their Gods angry display? Across the 'Thunder Fields' a deafening roar which caused them great dismay. And soon they saw thousands of rabbits , all blinded by the light. The rabbits stumbled, fell and died, truly a mystifying sight. Then sickness came, and children died, with blisters raised on tender skin. They suffered. Tiredness, aching joints, pains in the head and vomiting. The Anangu did not know why. Had they their Gods somehow upset? Dead animals were everywhere, and death now dogged their every step. How could they know these simple folk, their Dreamtime had no tale to tell of such a horror man unleashed. Of acid rains that on their country fell. Of poison that for years untold would blight and curse this wretched land, their dreaming paths forever cursed and all done by the white mans hand. The Gods now took their great revenge, not just upon the native souls but white men too withered and died. Still lies by Governments were told. The land forever poisoned ground, each grain of earth, each rock and tree No more a place of dreaming, or a place of quiet tranquility . For evermore the poison stays, the soils still captured by the winds are lifted in a cloud of red that travels far, like spirit things. Dust blows to cities and to towns, far from these red and poisoned plains and every drop of dust that falls, becomes the deadly acid rains. And never will this story end, though Tjarutja people have reclaimed their lands, they can no longer live or hunt the dusty red soil plains. But tribal links are very strong and this place is their Dreaming the souls of Ancestors are here, and they go on believing. But truth to tell there still remains nineteen tons of plutonium No man will live here safely now for years 250 million It is the land of mamu* now a land of death and sorrow. Lets learn from this insanity and not repeat tomorrow. Maralinga you were once home to the the Tjarutja The Kangaroo and Wallaby, the native budgerigah The Eagle flew in majesty and grace above your plains Maralinga you are now Australias' monument to shame.                                                                                                              ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~           by.............Mahalia mc ©   * Anangu - Tjarutja people:    mamu - spirits:    Ooldea - sacred site: --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Back to: HOME           Back to: Hobbies & Games