Poly lies

conscious mix of colours

an artists canvassed-song

played game of hop-scotch

the winner and the wronged

barren dessert dwelling

in lie-ing lizzard’s ruins

flea infested lovers bed

for itching surfaced wounds

grasping but for reason

a mantis-holden mate

beetled in a spidered-web

of love, of lust, of hate

pencil drawn angel eyes

with tears, of blood and puss

deluded dream of fools

God! You and you, I, us!

Convenient stage

Woman stumbles through water
towards a peaceful swan
by it's wing she grabs ahold
and wrestles it to land.
Her loyal friend stands by
to capture all the action,
no doubt, the best shot posted -"adventure seeker"
- or some other clever caption.
Reports told of a swan that died
injured on some shore
abandoned in her suffering,
her virtual purpose served.

Bastard

I should have known from the start
Kindness is too much for any to ask
When your life's unfolding the dark
A smile will freeze up your heart

Your egos a huge raging bull
Your fears the source of its fuel
In smarts you're top of the school
But in deeds - no more than a tool

At least in the end you showed grit
So thank you for naming it...
"Bastard" 's a very good fit
For a clever self centered shit.

Of foreign lands

Life is faded at the edges,
sun-bleached tinge of an old photograph.
My world is a faded memory -
even my dreams are of strangers.

Are you a gambling man?

Your hands clutch around my wrist
Resisting it, loves bitter twist.
Middle-way causing offence
Tongues lashing futile defence
Holding on to dreams of 'us'
Familiar buttons light right up.
Life has scarred your heart
loves empty-hole my part.
Mind's filter program set
as shadow blocks regret.
Cold hands tight around your neck
desire to hold on, instinct to reject.
The gambler's hand's all in
to lose it all - or win.

Shadow of Depression

The ominous silhouette of a crow overhead reminds me of my constant companion, the darkness.  The place where despair sits on the throne wearing a crown of barbed wire that presses deep into my skin drawing the last few drops of blood from my life. The warm sticky ooze collects in a puddle on the floor - a living tribute to misery, dreams morphed into failures and hopes just wasted pennies.

Lucidity curse

Sense blows away a dried up pod
litters the ground with deep
sighs and question marks
lucidity consume'd faith
meaning-suit undone at seams
minds' torn land, broken vase
hot snake lines on coiff'd page -
hope bows to logic's march.

Glory stench

Purpose seeker finds cause
hidden in the cards, the clouds
carved in rocks in caves
gnostic tongues of foreign lands
divine illumination.
Precious gifts: ancient ruins
recited prayers and sacred books
glory stench, sublime
holy grail, holy land, holy
cellphone on a zafu cushion.

Come soon!

Outside on the deck, cinnamon tea and a sneak cigarette I try to write the night.
The kid next door plays the piano and a turtledove coos from a nearby telephone wire.
Gentle wind rustling the trees reminds me of autumn leaves crunching under my boots, Easter egg hunts and play adventures.
In my dreams, an other life, I hold your hands and feel your smiles - still so warm and precious in my heart.
Come soon! Everything is ready and waiting on you.

On Femininity .... for my daughter.

The essence of a woman? Soft round curves and fine features, naturally rosy cheeks and pink lips, delicacies to touch and taste and smell. The emotional cycles that drive tears, laughter, sadness and joy. It colours our relationships. The ones we value and foster. And as you share your tears and joys and fears, your dreams and laughter it drives a power within , a strength to stay with things just as they are – until, you find the courage to fight for wrongs left un-righted for too long. Value this gift, for your unique femininity is your creative expression, your sexuality, your power, your vulnerabilty, your love, your grace, your sanity, your joy and your sorrow.

Time to sing

Rain falls softly, steadily
The air, thick with freshness 
glows translucent green as
leaves wave droplets to the ground

Spring occasions melancholy 
moving rocks, clearing dusty corners
remembers 
long forgotten sadness.

Sunday morning silence 
- broken -
the seductive call of a bird. 
Perhaps to another. 

Her song
unquestioned
confident
has grown within her. 

A salutation to this moment
It is her place to sing!

And then again there’s silence. 
Just raindrops falling.

Exercise my voice

I honestly feel like I lost my voice.  Somewhere along the way to becoming who I am today I lost the ability to express myself. I don’t mean this in day-to-day terms – thankfully I can still order a flat white, tell my kids I love them, facilitate a workshop session and maintain a few special friendships. What I mean relates to expressing my emotions, ideals and opinions. I confess, I am a little tempted to blame someone (one person in particular or at least some experiences we shared) but alas - assigning blame is is not healthy and totally pointless on any practical level. Let's just say how it happened is far less significant than that it happened. So anyway.

What happens is that when I go to express my opinion – (and this is aside from the very demure you’re not smart / educated / good enough to have your own opinion which has followed me from youth) is that my mind immediately moves to consider any other possible argument / angle it can think of to trap me up. And this continues until I am resigned to the fact that there is no greater value in any of the positions thats worth defending.

I’ve been told that the why mechanics of this self expressionless-ness could have to do with lack of confidence, underlying fears (maybe of failure or ignorance), blocked creativity, knowledge deficit, even laziness or just plain old i-don’t-give-a-shit-ness. At this point I have no idea. All I know is that there is nothing less conversationally interesting than total nuetrality!

This blog is a project of self-expression - exercise for my voice.

And every time I feel vulnerable I will watch Brene Brown’s wonderful TED talk on the power of vulnerability: