Who you know

The nature of us all
Interwined betwixt
Soil like black gold
Sky liquid silk

Hidden stories told
Under soled feet
Rubber hits the road
Dreams and days meet

A secret underground
Threads tie us all
Telling tales of
Magnificent scale

Beauty so minute
Rare mysterious
No telling where
It wanders

Growing silently
Inside me
Just below
The surface

Waiting patiently
To arise
Tentative to touch
Hesitant to taste

A glorious surprise
If arrived
Just in time
For me

Ivory tower

She sits enthroned
Her head of stone
Arms incapable
Of waving royally

Disempowered
For her beauty
Strength, immortality
Divine femme

No king of beasts
Can protect her
From iconoclasm
Cult postmodern

Mother to all
Yet none to rest
On her thighs
Soothed by breast

A body erect
All that remains
Of love
‘Principal goddess of Phrigia, ‘Mother of all gods’, Cybele was the personification of Nature’s power of growth.’

~John Elliott Classics Museum, University of Tasmania.

Moonlight cinema

Star gazing
Big screen
Blue light
All night

Stuck on
Plot twist
Lead femme
Lost me

Wondering
How long
Could I sit
In the dark

Catching
A glimpse
Of reaction
To the sight

Moonlight
Cinema
Gravity
Giving way

Force
Like the first
Star wars
Irresistible

Memories
Imprinted
On reels
Of mind

Never another
First time
Being with you
In my life

Elemental

A warm igloo
In frozen tundra

A shady oasis
In desert down under

A cool clear pool
On white hot sands

A fresh trout stream
On vast open lands

A ripe berry vine
In dry scrub bush

A quiet space
In mid city rush

Elemental forces
We cannot contain

She comes to me
Like a forest fire

Cleansing opening
Ingiting on the breeze

Spreading seeds
Clearing debris

What holds us fast
From inevitable pain

We search seemingly
Aimlessly

It is always there
Hiding plain sight

A thrilling dare
To make it known

Love is never
In vain
Bellerive foreshore, nipaluna/ Hobart, lutruwita/ Tasmania

The Sound of Silence

How can it be?
That silence can change
From champion heavyweight
To a breath waylaid?

When a flurry
Of digi-noises invade
Our inner ears
On daily basis

Silence means
Solitude
Isolation
Reflection
Rejection

Empty soundscape
Says none
Alive or near

Stillness
Has its moments
By a brook
In a book nook

Anticipating
Laughter and tears
Felt so hard
No sound escapes

If brainwaves were
Attuned to instruments
Symphonies played
Between my ears

On royal highs
And splendid lows
Ticking monotones
Of my years

Silent support act
To showcase the star
Like imagining someone
Playing guitar

While Billie brazenly
Sings the Blues
For me

Seamless

The crack in the wall
Glowing bright
In the darkness
Of a moonless night

Slipstream taking us
To other worlds
Underworld
Dark overlords

Time stands still
On this side
While senses ride
Down cavernous divide

Only one
In multiple galaxies
With loyal friend
Can evade its tricks

Old timey-wimey thing
Keeps pushing
The big button
To Who knows where

Do you dare or
Do I dare?
Come with me
Home in time
For tea

Holiday

Rupert Bunny, ‘The Bathers’ – 1913. Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery.
'The way you wear your hat 
The way you sip your tea
The memory of all that
No, no they can't take that away from me

The way your smile just beams
The way you sing off key
The way you haunt my dreams
No, no they can't take that away from me

We may never, never meet again
On the bumpy road to love
Still I'll always,
always keep
the memory of...'

They Can't Take That Away~ Song by Billie Holiday

In week of want

In week of want
She fell
Barely breathing
Soft down

Mother beaten
By quoll creeping
By midnight
Took her all

Plucked up
Tucked inside
The crevice of
My cleavage

Feeling beats
Smelling skin
Plucking courage
To cuddle in

Come by night
Settle in
On straw
Under lamp light

By morn I woke
She lay still
Crushed by
Weight of
Loneliness

Sometimes
Only hearing
Beats feeling
Spark of love
Healing

None else
Can be
Our light