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Lee Fuhler

Lee Fuhler, Romani 'Sinti' Poet. Born in Australia in 1963.
Prizes in International Arts competition, "Amico Rom-Them Romano" in 1997, 2001, 2002.
Published one full size collection of 92 poems. And 5 other smaller volumes of poems.
Performed poetry on radio and local television in Australia and also in a documentary film about
Australian artist (painter) Vali Myers.

Four Poems by
Lee Fuhler

Song For The Millennium

Since the revolution
the roads are bad
We can;t be sure about the boats
What’s it that brought us here!

This place reminds me of certain people
the voices remind me of home
I wonder if this place could hurt me much more
if I stood and called it its name out loud!

This is how she wants it.
She wants all this to be over with
and she wants to commit smoking.

But since the revolution the roads are getting worse


Let’s explore this lonely future
which our heart cannot explain
I’ll leave my soul burning by the roadside

The sun licks the first wound of dawn
the breeze cuts the curtain
The history of theazor drags across
the facts of life
This is the way in which we’ve come to hope for
a new man!

Well it looks like this is it
we’re getting everything we see.
All the time we know there must be more
there always was!

So welcome to the lonely future
the open road ahead;:
Did you see my soul there burning by the

Shadows Of Song

Clouds across the moon
and her hair upon her face.
Days filled with rain
and her blue eyes.

Whispers of grey
and the mood we’re in.
The willow tree standing in the yard
and my aching limbs.
A rose upon the window pane
and the touch of her sympathy’
Our symphony of feeling
for the opera of hallways.
The sound of our future
in the shadow of our song.

No Valentine Music

Memory collects,
the tune of change
from the industry of sound,
like the shoreline collects
nagging the edge of stone,
Late winter feels out the lay of the land.

The passage of change comes like cold dawn,
like cloud above the rift valley.
There is no valentine music.

Memory collects
like the shoreline;
stagnant ponds
no utterance of change.

A sky like cold dawn above the rift valley.
The notes of the tune collect in decision.

There is no valentine music.

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