stew.ART
ANZAC Day 2026
Honouring those incredibly courageous souls that lost their lives and (his)tories — to gift us safety and peace. Affording us freedom inside a world that holds much conflict and enmity.
We honour their (his)tories.
Ode of Remembrance - Verse 4
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.— Laurence Binyon ~ FOR THE FALLEN
(stew.ART)
STEW…
WAR.
raw art
that
…WETS
old (his)tories of
inked letters,
bloodied scars
compared
(his)tories,
of 39’s
night delivery
to
feel
S U P R E M E
like
swarming bees
sucking night’s
western
horizon.
silent…
deafened by 120dBA claps — thunderous, homeland unloads the silent
strike…
flashes strike in shimmery glow — blinding, a star falls from the night
spit…
metallic flies spit devastation — shredding flesh peeled from marrow’s bone
stain…
blackened stains bathe the soil — entangle life with end, bending time
Bloodied
in muddied rows of
shallow ditches,
s a t u r a t e d
by phantoms that
sleep in union;
in glades of
crimson-coated,
poppy petaled tombstones.
Grim traveller,
death’s reaper
that crossed time
came to
taint and rape,
its pretence
friend.
Death,
witnessed (his)tories end,
carved out of scars
and letters inked
up on tissue
paper flesh,
illustrate olden (his)tories
of ‘39’s
monochromed
open wounds…
life bled out colour.
Raw art
that
WETS…
war—
inside the shackles
of sleep,
dreams suck
life
— in the silence
we simmer and
…STEW
(stew.ART)