Truth Be Home

Resilience must be your middle name

when identifying players of the wicked game

these hiders of the truth who dare

not cover their mouths with due care

they let the babble spill and flow

their lies each second grow and grow

over the edge they gush like molten lava

no concern for it making your life harder

smug and smiling and standing tall

so you'll believe their tales, big and small

placing themselves before the rest

counting only one as the ultimate best

We know this type and they're no saviours

we unveil their masked vile behaviours

we need not their foolish words or pay

we just want them to hush and stay away

Leave the honest caring folk alone

to live in a world where truth is home!

Life

The continuum of your consciousness
stretches far beyond the first breath
to the last you take upon this Earth.

Let your mind be free of the fear
holding back true life.

Allow changes to take place
with welcoming trust.

See the learning in every moment
without judgment.

Be directly as your heart shows you to be.
Do not fight your life.

Simply live it.

Dream Links of Stars & Jewels

In the mornings light
I travel through memories of
Dreams from the nights sleep.

I reach to all sides
Attempting to grasp the
Emerald, ruby and golden gemstones
As they fall to the floor
Like rain scattering drops.

They bounce into mid air
Like autumn leaves orchestrated by the wind
And fly out into universes beyond
My current understanding.

I look to my hands and treasure
The halfcup full I’ve retrieved
I examine each one with wonder and
Arrange them into strings of jewels
Connecting the parallel worlds explored
During sleep and woken hours.

In time I’ll recall more memories
Like I will see more falling stars
And add them to these threads
Creating links of new discoveries
Of my being, purpose and life.

A Raining Tuesday:3pm

The Café was alive;
A cluttered chatter
A piano playing jazz cd
A chinking of collected plates
A buzzing of the milk frothing machine
People read
People wrote
People talked
People laughed
People spoke loudly
People strained to hear
People were heard
People ate, people drank,
People txt, people emailed, people typed
And an elderly man and young lady, even slept.

The Laughter We Share

You make the basic laughing cells in me smile.
They react to what you say with a chuckle and
Reconcile any doubts I have about your ways.
The “happy” vibrations flow freely from
My molecular mind down to my tickled toes
Bouncing in flight as they sparkle
Like golden jewels and lively sprites.
There are times when I’m doubled over in hysterics
Holding my stomach to contain the pain reacting
To the comments that drop from your tongue…
I so simply love the way you make me laugh.

Relentless Wind

Today the wind
like thoughts
and voices
and paying taxes
and hiding secrets
and working
and eating
and shitting
and sleeping
and breathing
and all else we repeat
each day…
is relentless.

Consumerism

Obsolete goods

Like the wasted gifts
You never wanted

Like the perfectly good car
You trade in for better

Like the mobile phone
Built to last only a year

Like the packaging used
To persuade you to buy

Like the thrown out food
You made too much of… yet again

Everything you so desperately desired
Now no longer care for…

Piled high, crushed then covered
To create the basis for land
Upon which we’ll later live.

A Blissful Introspection

No inner chatter
Negative judgments or remarks
Nor useless thoughts of worry
For that which may never materialise
No abusive over drone
Nor angry response
No impatience
Nor irritability
No utterance of hate
For self, for others, for place or task
Nothing…
An empty space
A place of silence
A place of still
A place we accept
A place we find within ourselves
A place we can call serenity

The Buddha’s Diamond Eye

Twinkling today directly into my eye
The diamond worn on the Buddha’s forehead
glistened and grasped my attention.

I heard him say

Be still
Be silent
Sit and listen... only to your own breath

Away from the head full of thought
Away from the heart full of emotions
Away from the body full of aches and pains

Follow only the in breath
Follow only the out breath
Follow the stillness in between the breaths
Follow only the tummy as it naturally
rises and falls and rests with each breath

How simple his words
to comprehend as instructions
and put into actions

How trying these actions
to put into practice
for the duration of the meditation

How serene the outcome
Immediately after the sit

How challenging to carry this calm
Into the crowded streets we walk
The homes we habitually live
The conversations we hold with others
The work we carry out for a living

How honourable to humanity
And all within this universe
To practice holding this same mindfulness
Away from the Buddha’s eye

The Detachment Tear

Where there is an understanding and respect for detachment
A discernment about when to apply it
and to what degree.
There evolves a space
for serenity
to sit
snuggled up
next to peace
with harmony
at it's other side.
_

Ten Little Haiku Poems Written in Korea

Soft white snowflakes descending

Land upon your nose

Awaken the sleeping birds



Leafless trees expose their frame

Bare and obvious

The protection has vanished



A crisp clear-cut cold night

Many sparkling stars

Wishes will come true for all



Flames from the winter fire

Reflect in their eyes

A burning passion is born



Crystal cobalt skies above

Not a bird in sight

The stark solitude of cold



A lucid path of red leaves

The moon as the guide

Follow and trust your guidance



Rains down pouring overhead

Saturate the earth

Time to plant new seeds of life



Cheeks of rosy red berries

Siberian winds

Chill the circulating blood



Snow covered forest flooring

No trail to walk

Cries from the little lost fawn



Silence and crackling twigs

Dried out old branches

Forty five degree fires


Decisions We Have, Take and Make

This Morning I Awoke…

Agitated by the Comments of others
Finding low Tolerance for their Words
Holding little Compassion for Obsessions they hold.

Seeds of Anger grew in me for Feeling this way

Who am I to Judge?
Why do I Need to do it at all?
Why can I not just Let others Be?
Without adding My judgment?
Why do I need to Awaken the Sleeping Fire of Frustration?
And Struggle with Myself over how They are?

I Decide to Remove this Uncomfortable Inner Skirmish.

I Sit in Silence with my Breath

I Set the Feelings, Thoughts and Myself… Free
I Allow my Frustrated Mind to Stop Judging
I Relax into Simplicity by Accepting All
With Unconditional Love and Understanding.

I Realise there is no-one whom Makes me…
Read what I do
Think what I do
Judge like I do
Or react like I do… Apart from Me.

I have
All the Power
All the Control

I take All the Responsibility
I make All the Decisions that Result in how I feel.

I Acknowledge the Feelings
I Feel their Desire
I See their Route of Destruction
I Taste their Hurt and Pain
I Turn the Page
To a Blank Sheet… A Clear Neutral Mind.

I Choose Peaceful Energy
To Project from my Heart.

For this World Needs No More Feeding into War
From Individuals Grappling with Their Power to Control Others.

Always

The rays of sun radiate through the fogged forest
Breathing hope into the day ahead.
They turn the sprinkles of rain into a shower of
Tumbling glitter, that falls in a compassionate kiss
Upon the earth below. And if you allow
It’ll let the magic in your life initiate and
Prevail whenever you decide to see through the
Daze into the truth of beauty that is
Before and within you,
Always.

Another Home

The ground is virtually void of colour.
A grey misty green.
Like watching a film in such low contrast
It’s almost black and white.
A land that looks and feels familiar,
Yet not to this earthly planet.
A home to another world
Far away; minus the trees and the grass
and any form of life as we know it.
Is it just my imagination that’s so in love
with roaming on this new land?
Or could it be a distant memory…
A possible past life as another being
In another universe?
It’s that colour.
It’s that grey misty green.
It’s that ground virtually void of colour.
It’s that black, grey and white shade that almost is.
It’s that which looks and feels so familiar.
It’s that which makes a part of me feel at home.

In a Mixture of Epsom Salts, Water and Tears

In a mixture of Epsom salts, water and tears
I soaked in my favorite past time, reading in the bath.
It’s like a ceremony and can easily go on for an hour or more
I top up the hot water by turning the tap with my toes.
The bathroom was huge, nearly as large as the room where I slept
I loved that bedroom, facing the morning sun with views of cliffs and sea.
Perfect home for my 31 year old self to relax after a weeks working travels.
That night I’d pulled a book blindly from the shelf to join me in my bath and did what I so often do, open at no particular page and read exactly where my eyes fall, believing there to be a message, and I’d find one regardless.
This time the message was clear, no need to dig deep for meaning. I’d asked a simple question out loud to the world when undressing, and the answer bellowed out through the words on the page as though straight from the Gods.
And like that, my decision was made.
I called you to let you know, I was on my way.
I packed my case, half naked, then lay in bed awake for hours
Until sleep took my sobbing self, by the hand and let me rest.
The next morning I booked the flight, 22 hours in total, via Dubai.
Such a long journey ahead.
I wondered if I’d make it on time and then if 3 weeks was enough.
I felt sick at the unsympathetic practicalities I had to resolve.
How could I possibly ask you or any other member of our family,
exactly how long you had left to live.

Dark Clouds

Why does this Country
With all its so called
Freedom and privileges
Make us feel as though a
Monty Python 16 ton weight
Crashes down onto our
Solar plexus daily
Squashing the golden light
Of joy and laughter
From glowing and flowing
Into the stream of life
That could so easily be
If only allowed?
We blame the weather
The lack of sun
Yet the cold dampness
That lingers in the air
Creating a cloud of darkness
That covers our hearts
Has no connection to
The weather.

Necessary Behaviour

I love the marriage between my minds observations
and the words it chooses to place into poetic form.
Together we churn out poems like the British do complaints…
In a naturally instinctive continuous way
Not quite expecting a particular result
Rather just releasing ourselves of the thoughts
that might otherwise keep us awake at night
or annoy our closest family and friends when
we endlessly speak of such experiences and opinions.
This, the necessary need to clear the way,
making ready for the next expectant rainfall
so poems can flow out my fingertips onto the keyboard
like the simplicity of ice cubes melting in the summers sun.

Where Inspiration Lurks

A pre booked budget hotel on the side of a highway
A hallway stinking of smoke in the non smoking section
A single key with no key ring, to open the door
Carpet that's caught many “spills” upon its surface
Rectangular wooden furniture sitting sullenly since the 70's
A humming bar fridge playing loudly over passing cars
A toilet that chokes when flushed, unfulfilling it's job
Plastic protective coverings on the bedside lamps?
A large gap at the bottom of the door that’s unsettling
Ceaseless lack of light that prevails after nighttime has escaped
Loud radios, televisions and voices seeping through the walls
Plaster covering angry drunken fist holes in the bathroom door
An automatic fan threatening to extract you too when in use
A king sized bed I’m relieved to see and smell clean sheets covering
The kind of scene you could hear a gun shot in and not be shocked
A gloomy room holding secrets disturbing enough to write a best seller
A place where I sit in my silence and listen; listen and watch and write
A place so full of dejection and lacking in charm, it inspires me to write.

Take a Walk

Leave behind voices
mobile phones
partners and friends
watches and time
physical goals
the critical mind
burdening thoughts
messy homes
work decay
fearful hearts
pained bodies
rushed lives
emotional sways
and all that separates
you from yourself.
Leave them far behind
breathe in the beauty
that surrounds your
every stepping stride
and return a blissful being.

The Voice I Choose to Hear

As my flight date to re-enter the world of traps approaches
I’m feeling the weights of society compounding my soul
burying my freedom by trying to add me to the big stewing pot.

I’m hearing my father’s words bounce around and bruise my brain
Money, secure job, house, security, secure job, money, security!!!
“Never ever turn down paid work. Never Ever!!”… His last email read.

He’s the unhappiest man I know… money, house, a secure job he works
beyond retirement age to keep the fear at bay of meeting his life face on
Realizing he has missed all the wonder, missed life… his job has been his life.

His experiences denied a true observation of their true meaning
Negative, angry, regretful, self destroying thoughts filling his
mind, skin, blood and bones, each and every cell infected to the core.

Pockets of dire uncontrollable misery collecting and slowing his pace
A paranoid world developed in preference to acceptance of what has been
what can not be undone, re-lived, re-written or acceptance of what is.

I can feed into and react no more, the poison stops here, I take a stance.
I feel no pity, no annoyance, no anger, no rage, no bitterness, no frustration
I no longer try to explain and justify my choices in life… His life his; Mine, mine.

The fearful energy I know how to shift… I know how to free myself.
I thank the magic of the universal learning’s no school could ever teach
for keeping me alive in the reality which the fearful fear the most.

My spirit defies this negative goo trying to infiltrate and suppress
it’s breath, its voice, its sense of freedom, its living in the present
My spirit speaks clearly to my heart and I hear and follow it’s path.

Reef Break

I scan the horizon, left to right
white horses gallop upon the seas in fleeting movement
not long enough to hold attention for thought.

Then in the centre of this seamless grey tinted blue, you
burst into the open air creating an ocean spray the
height of 10 men, powered like an erupting volcano.

Your continuous bombarding motion upon the reef you greet below
pounds away in the distant background of the tropical shore
like watching the magnificence of a whale breaching non stop.

You are spectacular, a show all of your own, mesmerizing my mind
filling my consciousness with belief in my own power, a
force it has not yet full capacity to absorb.

You jump with courageous energy and my heart joins the dance
freeing my spirit from tied up fears and worn out beliefs which
hold it captive in realms it no longer wishes to dwell or swim.

Your dependable display is a sign of the strength nature holds
a strength we too each hold, beneath the blinkers of illusion and
folly of fear, highlighting the true role we are here to play.

Sunday Afternoon

I’m loosing the battle to write
against the radio
which bleats in the background
with a well spoken English voice
evicting my flow of creative thought
like the floods have driven 20million
out of their homes in Pakistan.

Less Than 50p Per Unit

Eyes as red
as oxygenated blood
30% full of up to 70% proof

skin as wrinkled
as an elephants coat
grey awash with yellow

forced facilitating kidneys
fighting to filter through the flood
make their presence felt in the lower back

a demonstration of “Dehydrated Desperation” declared

adrenals out of wack
trigger shots of fight or flight
like a blindfolded uncontrollable
seeking revenge

vitamin B stripped bare
breaks into depression

chemical upheaval
as essential fatty acids are
essentially non existent

“power C” not replaced
like the orange juice carton claims

a silent fat soaked liver
swollen to the size of four
seeks a replacement friend

Signs of Distress

Eager to enjoy a feeling of summer
passers-by stroll on the banks of the River Thames
she exposes her bare waters edge in low tide
and is anxious with humiliation at the signs of her
loss of beauty through neglect and disrespect
but they are oblivious and take no ownership
for the damage ignorance plays.

Pollution not yet knocking loud enough on their door
to disable the lungs of the role to take in fresh air
swell the eyes enough to shut down any useful sight
pump the body with cancer and disease creating toxins
or strip bare layers of skin exposed to unguarded UV rays

Not yet direct victims of the devastation to life through
droughts which dry the mouths of rivers, animals and man
lack of food which swells malnourished bellies quickly to corpse
or the onslaught of floods which flush family homes far out of sight

Adjacent to the heart of Mother Thames is a display of such life
billboard sized brilliant photographic imagery, right before their eyes
but too preoccupied with messages on mobile phones, the aim is
blotted from minds like all disasters once not prime time news.

Drifting

You,
like a baby, sit
hands resting upon your lap
head drooping forward on your chin
small snores escaping your nose
occasional twitching as nerves relax
You drift off to sleep
with the ease of a loved child
having finished his last feed of the night
nestled into his Mothers breast.

I,
like a restless child, flit
through new ideas, unable to nap
myriads of thoughts the size of pins
take over and try to impose
ability to control them fallen lax
Excited, they jump and leap.
some may call them wild
for me they’re a mere delight
creating answers to my life’s quest.

Summers End

As golden skins fade to a disappearing pale, thoughts of
insecurities and self doubt return, driving panicked bodies
straight to the arms of sun beds and hands of orange fake tan

Flows of smiles and happiness shared in sunshine’s joy are wiped
out by rains then frozen over into depressed frowns and groans
which see DR’s visits followed by Prozac prescriptions rise in demand

Summer romances loose sparkle and wash back to rough seas
leaving strings and strands of broken hearts and bitter words
strewn like dried seaweed and starfish across the shore, neglected.

The winter wardrobe full of wool and warmth re emerges its face
replacing cool cottons, swim costumes and Hawaiian patterned print
like the comfort offered by friends to lessen the pain after a loss

Light once shining for seventeen hours out of the twenty four
slips away a few minutes each day until appearing for less than eight
allowing for extra excuses to stay inside, staring at a screen, to keep safe

Summer gone, danced delicately down the road to visit the south world
leaving a broody time to reflect on life past and make plans for life future
when summer dances delicately back up the road, visiting north world once again.

Green Park

I got lost in that ill-conceived, self-created jungle
today, tearing my head apart like a half baked
chimpanzee on heat, falling prey to ignorantly
spoken imprudence in the world of words. Finding
myself burning on the stake for provoked exchange.

saved only by my primal central scream, which echoed
and screamed right back, had me do a “Tarzan”, swung
my sorry arse straight out of that sodden perpetuated
place, infused with misery and slain with self condolence.

Flung high above the festering rot below my flight, I hung
on for the excruciating ride to the sweet swelling river bed
and landing like a fairy, faintly on my feet, let my 21st Century
irritations slip on downstream with the twigs and trout.

Paris From Air, By Night

A spider, in the web of streets and lights
You are a vibrant, breathing life
A giant beast, with legs sprawling out
From a circular patterned body
You bend and elongate as you warm up
In preparation for the voyage across lands
On your journey in the night skies of Paris.

Freedom of Reality

The thoughts contrived in one head
to persuade all the followers to be lead
into a fairytale place of a better world
the proof never available to be unfurled
driven by an ignorant, blind motivation
for power, greed and monopolisation
derived from personal, disharmonious need
a devilick, densely distorted inner seed
with no conscience, feeling or genuine care
for consequences they judge, as totally fair
abusing humanity and planet earth
to make way for their masterly visionary birth
corrupted to the core, of their cowardly hearts
forcing people on this globe, to tear each other apart
minds void of wisdom, or any true good intent
making decisions on how our money’s to be spent
future generations born to suffer and rot
due to the increasing thoughtless provisional plot
left to fight a battle with no weaponry tools
the result of the mass, conditioned by such fools.

Lead the Way

Sheep grazing on
grass of consumerism
drinking water of control
walking on fields of chemicals

need new Shepherds to follow… now

Fighter Jets & Holiday Makers

I notice the birds don’t flinch at all, as you roar past
with great ferocity & speed, out of the airport, over
the mountains of Crete

The holiday makers all look up, surprised by your
arrival and departure, impression lasting only a few
seconds before they talk about their return home and
what they’ll eat for tea

With the fifth take off, they look somewhat concerned,
stare a little longer, converse over the reasoning of your
flight. Reassuring themselves and each other; that all is
fine and they are safe

My eyes turn to the mountains and I wonder if they look
at all similar, to those in the parts of Afghanistan, where
no holiday makers are currently hiking and over the other
side is not another resort pool to bath in and deepen the
suntan, lying on loungers.

The parents of a family sitting next to me, fuss over their
children, buying toy cars from the airport shop and offering
packed lunches stored in a big bag labeled “Yummy Mummy”.
But my focus stays on war. I think little of my return home or
what I’ll eat for tea.

City Activity

The dirt filled air rushes past my
head,
tossing
my hair into angles of
haphazard geometry.

It fills my pores with molecules of filth, clogging my skin from breathing.

the water will flow from my
body a grim shade of grime soaked grey
as it flows down the drain when I shower later tonight.

the tissue I blow my nose on will be streaked with black.

I smell no longer sweet from the oils I used on my body earlier this morning.

yet in the city, with an appetite all of its own,
big enough to swallow you whole, spit you back out, take you under it’s wing
or kick you in the face…

I watch, I listen, I create and my mind feels like it can freely breathe.

Alive

I watch my breath flow in and out
The instinctive flow astounds me
I could not be now more alive

I watch my breath flow in and out
My torso still before the rise

Oxygen fills each tiny cell
I watch my breath flow in and out
The instinctive flow astounds me.

The Magical Key

Residing within each of us, is the magical key of freedom, possessing
the power to lock the ambush of turmoil away, release the
black tar of suppression, regenerating pure life
to be lived, without the mental anguish,
less the burdensome weight, in
the steps we take on this
short journey of
our being.

Floods of Emotion

Allow the floods of emotion, to weep and cry
When reading aloud your words
Let your flowing tears of pain, dry and pass by

After an argument with your partner
Words flung across the room
Allow the floods of emotion, to weep and cry

At a funeral of a beloved one
Parent, child or friend
Let your flowing tears of pain, dry and pass by

When recalling a distant memory
Or one more recent still
Allow the floods of emotion, to weep and cry

When your world falls apart around you
And you’re stranded on your knees
Let your flowing tears of pain, dry and pass by

Be gentle with your sensitive soul
When on this path in life
Allow the floods of emotion, to weep and cry.
Let your flowing tears of pain, dry and pass by.

Return Trip

I stand at the bow of the boat
although moving, in a timeless space
Watchless
I’m as free to the command of time
as the
surrounding rocks, mountains and sea

I stand at the bow of this boat
although thinking, in a worriless way
Fearless
I’m as free to modern panicked thoughts
as the
Surrounding rocks, mountains & sea

I stand at the bow of this boat
although accompanied, in a quiet bliss
Undisturbed
I’m as free to pointless chatter
as the
Surrounding rocks, mountains and sea

I stand at the bow of this boat
In a natural, organic state
timeless, fearless, and undisturbed
With my poetic friend
and the rocks, mountains and sea.

A Fighting Game

Born into a boxing ring,
no formal training or coach
Fight game governed by natural instinct to defend.
Round after Round after Round
one too many dealings from an upper hand.
Each blow; head spun back, stumble
Falling to the ground, Stars sparkling above.

Is it like a Fool, we stand after the knock out
Promise our return to re-enter the ring
aiming for a Win, for a World Title?

Or is it like a True Fighter,
Nowhere near ready to back down
until Victory fills our Breath?

Really, There Is No Need

There is no need to hit a nail into the wall, once the head is level
causing a crack to appear and a mass of plaster crumble to the floor
Really there is no need

There is no need to cut the body of half a worm into quarters or more
to ensure beyond it’s nerve functioning twitch, it is dead

There is no need to attempt to count every grain of sand on this planet
to prove there are less than stars in the sky

There is no need to push or change the body to unnatural extremes
to prove our strength, beauty and worth to our self and others

There is no need for obsession with material possession to rule our career,
family and status, when we take non, beyond the grave

There is no need to cut short our lives by abusing our bodies
with processed foods, drugs, negative thoughts and trapped guilt

There is no need to berate, criticise and put anyone, including ourself
down because we feel full of anger, pain, shame and fear

There is no need to build separation with beliefs of superior/inferior
beings when we all take the same last breath upon death

There is no need for poverty and lack of basic necessary provisions
when there is plenty for all, if evenly distributed and contained

There is no need to be so lacking in understanding & compassion
for the sake of pride, being right and having the last say in a discussion

There is no need to feel such hatred and inflict such pain
upon those whose views differ from our own

There is no need for deceit, manipulation and lies derived from
power, greed and the need to control, to dictate the way we live

There is no need for war, when the seed of peace
we were each born with, lives in our hearts for ever

There is no need to continually search for the answers
when they reside in us already, awaiting to be re-awoken

There is no-need for the world to be in the state it is
Really there is no need at all.

Turquoise Family of Sea

The swell of rising tears mirror the waves
of their turquoise sea family
Heaving with emotions they
tumble and crash to the hearts frantic beat
against the hardened pebble beach

Memories ceaseless, drag back and forth
each feeding the next, increasing the surge and
power of the succession of waves to follow
A perceived picture of ferocious fury and disharmony

The ever changing seas can not remain so turbulent
they confide in and liaise with the wind, who
responsively takes control, swings in the opposite direction
then fades, sweeping the way for tranquility to prevail

A slower heartbeat of waves lap the shore
thoughts glide fluently over the pebbles
floating out onto the seas of new horizons
they wink a sparkle of reassurance to the sun and later the moon,
everything has been, now is and always will be, okay.

Swimming Through Sludge

The intoxication of your breath
dowsed in cigarettes and booze
flood your thoughts with utter rubbish
A stick from a branch, A bottle from the glass
You make no sense, Rant, Mumble & Fall.

I dive in through the doorway of your mind
to a darkness that whispers my name
luring me in with it’s holding of secrets
I swim past the veins, alcohol full

take a lung full of oxygen to keep sober
and kick with great force as I pull my way
through the blackened green sludge.

I can’t see, there’s no light to help
I wipe my mask, for clarity
suddenly the secrets begin to unfold

Photo’s… Holiday snaps, a home, happiness
but they’re not me… I’m not there
I’m nowhere to be seen

They’re you and another
Another I do not know

Through the mask I gaze
like watching a film

The only recognition I make
apart from you

is the end of us.

Fisherman’s’ Hook

Snagged by a tasty treat
disguising a fisherman’s hook
You’re natural instinct to escape, kicks in,
you frantically swim against this pull
and a jerked rip runs through the side of your mouth
you’re lost in time, swamped in fear,
unable to decipher your destiny.

Hauled onto unfamiliar ground
rough and hot against your scales
you gasp for breath in doomed gulps
and flap with all fight as he holds you still

Then struck by natures luck
too small for worthy profit
he releases the hook and you, back home to the seas
you, a red silvery trail in the translucent turquoise

A lingering taste of the blood curdled worm,
that lured you in, leaves a hesitant note on your lips,
prolonging the search to satisfy your unfulfilled hunger.

Your trust is shot until this memory cleared
of the day your lungs were stretched to tears.

Unreadable Wind

The power of your breath
knocks me off balance
So I lean into your chest
Hair flying back
to steady myself

The coolness of your breath
ruins my beach day
So I put on a sweater
Skin covered up
to keep myself warm

The vocals of your breath
override my voice
So I stop conversation
Ears for you
to savour my words

The texture of your breath
throws grit in my eyes
So I close them tightly shut
Blink once or twice
to clear my vision

The nature of your breath
I find hard to read
So I take you as you are
Accepting all
because there’s no choice.

The Winter Tree

Five branches
connected at base, separated in thought
stripped bare
exposing their wintery frame

A robin circling above
ties a red thread to the
largest, thickest branch
And with the other end in her beak
effortlessly flies away

A crisp singular snap fills the air
the branch breaks at the core
trailing in a weightless float
Leaving the rest to absorb
the nourishment through their roots
which spread like veins
hidden deep within the earth.

Summer Thirst

I love how the sun, through the
blustery wind and fast shifting clouds, is
just warm enough to satisfy my
body’s thirst, so I can sit
eating lunch, writing,
bikini clad
naked.

Abstract Blue

Cornered into position
the fragile mind
seeps out under disguise
slipping through the wired door
of the prisoned cell

climbing over and beyond
the reach of recapture
moving in a dignified manner
bringing no attention to stir suspicion
free to delve
into depths of new discovery
cautious not to be caught
Yet again
by unwanted influence or thought.

Treasures in Shipwrecks

Lying next to you in bed
is an outline of what was
an outline of what will be
an outline

Sitting next to you at the table
is a shadow of what was
a shadow of what will be
a shadow

Stored in your brain
is a memory of what was
a memory of how it will be
a memory

Planted in your hope
is a vision of what was
a vision of what will be
a vision

In the shadow of memory
and the outline of a vision
is your life.

The Liar

Putting together a puzzle
so easy does it fit
a cloud here and a flower there
completed from one kit

A masterpiece at work
a genius I say
able to craft
manipulation in that way.

In Fields Full of Gold

In fields full of gold
Wild flowers bloom and last
Where nothing ever grows old

The worms young and bold
Filter through the ground
In fields full of gold

The fertile soil remains
With nourishment for grains
Where nothing ever grows old

The scent of spring is strong
It sprinkles through the air
In fields full of gold

The colours vibrantly bright
Bursting with pure life
Where nothing ever grows old

The crows blackened beaks
Sing no songs of death
In fields full of gold
Where nothing ever grows old

A Crackle in My Ear

Sorry sorry,
I swallow in fear
and the sound crackles
an echo, In my ear

my shallow breath quickens
my stomach churns
acid rises
causes a burn

my heart beats a presence
an exaggerated thud
pulsating through
the thickening blood

I scream in silence
no-one can hear
sat in the trap
year upon year

all of this triggered
by a single sound
hidden away
a memory found

I package and wrap
and address it to you
times best forgotten
make way for the new.

Bushfires 09

Flames chased along the road
a town burnt alive
Nothing left to show
but ruins smelted to gold.

Seductive Sun

Your rays stretch out to my heart
and I fall in love
Your warmth lands softly on my skin
and I fall more in love
You melt away my winter worries
and I fall further, with you, in love

Too much too soon
I stand too close
and burn a crimson red
I mope around in pain for days
for I have fallen out of love

A week or two goes by
I can’t ignore your charm
I let you kiss me just one more time
and again I fall in love.

Energetic Snow

I can not sleep when you come to stay
in the middle of the night
I take a peak out through the glass
hoping to see your magical white

My energy connects with yours
when I listen to your silence
I become this different kind of force
and my body fills with excitement

I relish in your ability
to make all I see look neat
Your mystical white blanket
covering ground and all beneath

I love you when you come to stay
and spend a few nights here
As far as I’m concerned
it should be more than once a year.

My Creative Friend

Rain you are my creative friend
my excuse to stay inside
you open up the treasure chest
where my imagination resides

You unlock it with your silver key
and I make a definite choice
to devote the moment to my art
in the comfort of your voice

Together in harmony we create
for hours and hours on end
my artwork becomes alive
and completely transcends

I slip with you into a realm
another time and place
where no-one else can enter
and ruin our rhythmic grace

Rain you are my creative friend
I’m so grateful for your show
I rely on you until the end
When its time for you to go.

The Poet I Am, The Poet I Am Not

Soft and frilly, delicious & sweet
ambers & honey, we never meet.
Full of bravado, coupled with pain
this is what ticks in my brain.
The poetry police would gasp in despair
this strange girl writing with curly blonde hair
Uneducated mutter, I hear them think
simple and stupid, lines ending with a clink!
I listen and glisten to my own sweet pace
and a cheeky grin spreads across my face.
A dark sense of humor with a naughty streak
just wait until I reach my poetic peak!

There’s a Pain

There’s a pain
A grizzling, grumbling pain
In the pit of me belly
running right through my veins
The gurgling noise, amplified out loud
is a warning to all, I do not feel proud

The explosion is near
on the verge of my rear
Please move out the way
make the path way clear

In a hurry and a scurry
I wiz past your chair
clutching my bottom
in utter despair

The colour slips from under my chin
green, grey, white is all of my skin

I inhale slowly my eyes gently shut
and succumb to this illness flowing out of my butt!!