Sticking Around

Sticking Around

Interactive picture poetry

Welcome

Welcome to Sticking Around "We're sticking around." Sticking Around is an interactive anthology of poetry that explores the concepts of self, identity, and belonging. Through an interactive image of a sticker-wall located in Brisbane (Australia), explore the voices, views, and opinions shared within these narratives. Warning - Sticking Around is recommended for viewers 15 years and above - mature themes, and mild coarse language. Instructions To engage with the poetry embedded within the image, hover your mouse over selected stickers/tags until you see an interaction icon. Upon clicking the sticker/tag, you will be directed to a new page. On this page you will have the option to read the poetry or listen to a reading of the poetry (top-left, white). To return to the home page, select either the 'home' (top-left, black) or click the image in the background. Approximate read time is 5 minutes*, but may vary on reader ability. Credits Cover image: 'Red Wall', from @Stick_It_Around on Instagram, created by MJ Harris. Background audio: 'Linne' (Unknown artist) Royalty free from Epidemic Sound. Silhouette images: All images were sourced through Genial.ly, with the exception of:

• Eyes eyebrows black woman face (2012) Pixabay.com
• Black image of crying girl (2018) freesvg.org
• Chrysalis by Parkjisun (n.d) thenounproject.com
• Black silhouette defining a female body shape (2019) freesvg.org
• Silhouette of man in prayer (2016) freesvg.org
• Man caring garbage bags silhouette (2020) vexels.com
• Vegetation Silhouette 3 derived from an image on Pixabay (2020) freesvg.org
• Worm (n.d.) Kissclipart.com

Contributors

• Michaela Harris - page author, primary contributor.
• Nay Allen
• Brad Crook
• Mary-Ellen Quirk
• Jason Slack

Poems

• Stolen from Us by Michaela Harris - themes: asylum seekers, refugees, displaced people, and human rights.
• Hello by Michaela Harris - themes: teenage identity, fear of rejection, sexuality, and text culture.
• Senses by Jason Slack - themes: human senses, abusive environments, denial, and hidden truths.
• Self-Loathing by Michaela Harris - themes: insecurities, mental health, influence of social media, and fakeness.
• Stop Coming by Michaela Harris - themes: racism, fear, land ownership, and patriotism.
• Rebuke by Nay Allen - themes: identity formation, judgement, and metaphor for change.
• Every Frickin' Sunday by Mary-Ellen Quirk - themes: religion, divides, delusion, and freedom of choice.
• In Us We Trust by Michaela Harris - themes: politics, litigation, recession, and the oppression of future generations.
• The Lovers by Michaela Harris - themes: lust, temptation, forbidden love, discarded love, and the fall of man.
• Utopia by Michaela Harris - themes: teenage homelessness, family trauma, drifting, and searching for hope.
• Smoke and Rainbows by Brad Crook - themes: religion, faith, re-birth, and death.
• Temptation by Jason Slack - themes: deception, temptation, food, allegory, and judgement.
• Hello again by Michaela Harris - themes: teenage identity, acceptance, sexuality, world view, and text culture.
• No way by Mary-Ellen Quirk - themes: organised religion, divides, conflict, family, and freedom of choice.

© Copyright Michaela Harris (2021) *This has been based off the fact the the average 10th grade student reads approximately 200 words per minute.

Sticking Around acknowledges and pays respect to the past, present and future Traditional Custodians and Elders of this nation and the continuation of cultural, spiritual and educational practices of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples.

Home

Stolen from us

Displaced,and afraid, seeking a newtomorrow We wept. Our lands stolen for us,by power hungry hands.Hands thatkilled our men,raped our women, and pillaged us with war.We fought. A safe futurefor our children,erased within a night.We fled. To foreign landswe came with nothing,but heavy heartsand workers hands.

Jaded, untethered,unapologetic - me. Fingertips lingering, helplessly,against the screen. Heart in my throat, chest rupturedby nervous beats.I want to let youin.I want to let youknow. Authenticity has never been my strong suit.But lies were never meantto be lived,the scars on my arms tell me this much. I need you to know.

Home

Hello

Its me.

Can I tellyousomething?

Home

The Senses

Entering a house, I smella familiar, poignant smell. Piss.Cat piss.Human piss?No...definitely cat piss.I am drawn into the stench ofthe esters wafting.My nose tells me to retreat,but my eyes want me to wanderAnd my heart yearns to stayin this twilight zone forever.But a sixth sense tells me thatmy heart and eyes deceiveme...So I depart.

A desire for perfectionobliterates allself-esteem.It consumes.a generation, slaveto its beat.Insecure hearts,masked byfiltered faces, and scriptedpersonalities.We loatheourselves, andcrave the fake.

Home

Self-loathing

Home

Stop Coming

'Send them back!'They demand. Chests broad they arm themselveswith supposedpatriotism.Ill informed,by bygoneerrors. 'They're taking our jobs!'They accuse.From the comfortof their recliners.A beer in handcourtesy of welfare handouts.'This is our county!'They recite.Forgetting that theland they claimed,once belongedto someone else.

I came upon a butterflyriding the liftthat dayHis bent wing a polestarIn a cave of mirrorsSilenceWinds its way downthe bowels of memoryBut no, surely, I did not -There are so many eyesin the brighteach one chocked-fullof spoiled cabbageThey stare backwatching me stumbleas I fall headlonginto a cocoonI crafted.

Home

Rebuke

The knocking on my bedroom door is like a machine gun. Rat -tat- tat. ‘Mary, it’s time for mass,’ Mum says.‘ I don’t want to go.’ The door opens. Curtains are drawn like battle lines. Their blanket of protection is ripped in two; opposite sides, opposing shades, conscripted into this holy war. The sun sears my eyelids orange-gold. I don’t mind that light, but the light my parents see—blinds them. I don’t want to drink from that unholy grail.

Home

Every Frickin' Sunday

Stroking theiregos like the thighsof pretty girls.They kill us withrecession,isolate us withlitigation,and mute uswith promisesof grandeur - fake.Thanking godwith sleezy smiles,they crawlinto hotbedsof dissension. We can't trust in them.In us, we can trust,and us alone.

Home

In Us We Trust

Why must you cast youreyes on others,my forever tempted Eve?I ate from the fruits, forbidden.But that was not enoughto let your love pour out. Now I stand before you, naked, foolish, and afraid.Man, was not createdto be used insuch away.

Home

The Lovers

I carry it -in my hands,on my back,and in my heart. Baggage.Not all of it,my own.From couch to couch,I ride.Searching for a fable.Chancinga dream.Marvelling at themystery,that was denied upon my birth.A safe place to grow,to live.

Home

Utopia

I am ephemeralAs the swirling smokeof a sweet-dipped cigar.Unfolding randomlyand then no more,Like the beauty of a field That flowersAnd fades.I am eternalAs a creature birthedin promiseLike a rainbow risingFrom the flooded mountain floor.Purposely destinedLike a cross upon a hill,As a large stonerolled.I am. Then not.Then forever.

Home

Smoke and Rainbows

Nothing compares to meunder a sheetHidden from all - our white lieAfraid of what they say.You hide, you try to conceal the nasty,unhealthy treat.One taste is nigh enoughto satisfyYour hunger and your cravingof my heat.So you flee, away from allwho may seeYou consume the nasty,unhealthy treat.

Home

Temptation

My joyfulheart leapt,In celebrationof his freedom.Why do wordshold so much power?How they cripple us,chain us down,and mould us intothings we are not. An ability to be brave,should be rewarded,not berated.What a muddled worldwe live in?But for this simple moment,of honesty,I forget the worldand see onlyJonathon.

Home

Hello Again

I'm gay.

Dad believesI’ll be backbut there’snoway.Some daysthe guilt eats at me. My gut twists and turnslike I’mhostto a thousand writhing worms.Catholic guilt.Who needs this shit?I feel remorsebut alsorelief.Some days Mum doesn’t speak to me.I’m okay with that.

Home

No way