Giggle
Appear older, naive
Ask of other's realities
Deny one's own
Speak well of all authority
Dwell in the home
Wear brown, baggy clothing
No colour or lipstick
Kiss your mother goodbye
Hug anyone who asks for it
Do not resist the crowd
Silence a quiet scream
Obedience a vow
Do not confuse silence
For innocence of years
Nor err of grace
Forgiveness as
No evidence of blame
For all the words
Daggers and cloaks
Stored up for wintry days
Till sunny spring
A friendly ear
Does melt such icy ways
For nigh on a decade
Enchanted by tales
Of wildest places
Where rough edges
Bleed out to sea
Coarsing through veins
Lungs of the world
Clutching the land
For all its worth
From those who take, take..
I trip tentatively
Through swathes of natives
Unknowingly trampling
Rare plants
Smudging invasive seed
Into mud with sodden tread
No permission to collect
I take and take, greedily
Hoping vainly
To strike a fragile quill
A tendril root, a mere bud
To bring home all I love
But instead, I raised beds
Of shrunken dried specimens
Memories snipped from whence they came
Never to grow again.
Now I learn and dissect
Identify how similar or different
The naming of all things
Already taken place
A namesake now only left
For stone engraving.
A flourishing filagree
Sprawls across imagination
Possible only by
Space left between
Shelves of memories
Some on display
Others never seen again
Wander vast landscapes
In snow, wind and rain
Pour out my heart
On alluvial plane
Marvel and bow within
Carved limestone cave
Forage and flit about
White washed waves
For each day of yearning
Turns a new fresh page
Placing the point
On paper, thoughts race
As feelings are aired
They are lighter in space
Took all of my wandering
To know here is my place
I collected all the fallen limbs and driftwood memories.
Looking into your eyes, examining your face
the details of every freckle on your arm, the shape of your ear
your smile and lips.
To make driftwood art and admire it all day.
Some days, the hard ones
It feels like some unknown people piled all our memories up and set it alight.
Warmed themselves by the fire of the passing night of memories that never happened.
It fuels my sadness, a touch of resentment.
Who are these well meaning people, perhaps cold, they were, who had to warm themselves by the fire of us to feel alive.
Who threw in a pinecone of ‘what if’, or ‘why would you’ that sputtered and sparked in the flame.
I know all the things that they say.
I spend my days willing the life out of me, as alone as one can be.
So these humans, whom I do not envy, the ones who are alone like me, can know all the kindness that resides within. As one who knows what alone really means.
Shelves brimming with books
A leather covered nook
Lace curtain dances
On morning breeze
I hurriedly go to work
One day these pages
Will open to me
I will read aloud
To my love over tea
A neighbour stops
To look longingly
At the morning moon
Snaps it with a long lens
While my blue screen eyes glow
One day I will wake
By the light of the moon
Lying on soft tufts of dry moss
We will curl and trace the sun in morning ritual
Ginger cat curls in winter coat
Around blue flowers soaking low lying sun
Lush grass is mown by guinea pigs on a run
New natives thrive in builder's rubble.
One day, on eve of Spring
I will wade through winter garden's tailings
Gather barrowloads of greens to reveal fresh ground
We will chirp like birds at herbs that survived all odds.
Plant companions for their year ahead.
One day, I hope it comes.
Woollens hung on bedside chair
Buckets brimming with outer wear
Sticks and bottles, spikes and flasks
Beanies and even balaclava mask.
Promise of adventure lingers still
On the lee of dreams fulfilled
Anxious thoughts evade like mist
Must protect the glare skin kiss.
Nuts and bars, apple for the car
Cosy comforts carry too far
Tunes to take us on the ride
To alpine wonders, step outside.
A source of great strength
A true friend who never betrays
The sleep that nourishes wisdom
More powerful than proving a point
It is golden
A sanctuary for the soul or
An ultimate weapon of power
Whether embraced or imposed
May your silence be filled with bird song and laughter
By this, if a weapon, may it lose its power.
Tell those friends
Their jokes
Don't make me laugh
Those men
With horses for hearts
So deep, deep
Without meaning
They only make me feel...
Lyric poem, An Unguarded Moment, by The Church.
Count the stars of heaven 