Thursday, July 28, 2016

Quenched

Dissolving dust darkens the day;
Evening rushes with the wind;
Silence seeps into the
Earth, softening cracked clay;
Recently condensed clouds fall in
Thick, fat plops;

Rivulets of ochre flow;
Animals flee flash-bang fireworks heralding
Infinite and infinitesimal transformations:
Nature, sated, renewed.


About this piece

I started this poem some months back, but I needed to witness the effects of recent desert rain before I could complete it. I finished it after the World Rogaining Championships last weekend, where I travelled on foot through the East MacDonnell Ranges of the Northern Territory. First published in Poetry in Form on Medium.com.

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Kiss

Soft were her lips,
warm her breath.
Her kiss was sweet:
the kiss of death.

With racing heart, and
trembling fingers,
love may call, but
death: it lingers.


About this piece

I published the first verse of this piece on 17 January 1995. It stuck with me years after the rest of the small collection faded from my memory. I was about due to republish it when a second verse started itching, so here's the new extended version.

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Sacred space

You are the devotee;
I am your sacred space.

In my flesh, you seek enlightenment;
in my fingers, you feel fire;
in my face, you find the freedom you desire.

Leave your worldly worries at my threshold;
immerse yourself, gently at first,
lower yourself into the depths of my presence.

Grow in me as you swell with the possibility of new life.
Let awareness fall away into oblivion;
become lost in this moment.

Let life fall away into love;
become lost in me,

in your sacred space.


About this piece

You can hide behind a fa├žade or throw yourself headlong into love: either way, you lose yourself. First published in POETRY AFTER DARK on Medium.com.

Thursday, July 14, 2016

Twilight

Pink and blue highlights
shimmer in the pre-dawn glow:
80s retro sky.


About this piece

As I walked my dog this morning, I looked up and saw that, for the nth day in the row, the sky was all blue and pink like the eyeshadow-and-lipstick combo best loved in the 80s. It was always shimmery, wasn't it? I snapped a photo as the words swirled around in my head. Twenty minutes later, at home, I raced to write them down, while my dog whimpered her protest at having to wait a minute for food. First published in Poetry in Form on Medium.com.

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

I wrote this for you

I think I found you in the
space where time didn't matter
and words didn't exist,
or maybe it was on the internet.

I clicked and tapped and
swiped and your words came
and went and fed me.

I followed you
until I lost the track,
until you polluted the usual medium
with things that were never meant to be spoken,
not typed out on an old machine and snapped
for all the world to see.

And then I realised that I was invisible
and that, like words,
I was meant to be invisible.

So here I am,
writing these words from the space
where time doesn’t matter
and no one exists.


About this piece

I drafted this piece in January 2015 and it has sat silently since then. I rediscovered it a few weeks ago and decided to polish it up and see what I could make of it. First published on Medium.com.


Wednesday, July 06, 2016

Child

You were born of woman and man; thus, you are a child.
But, also, you are a poem.
Child, know: you are a one-line poem, breaking
rules, breaking over lines in determination
never to be broken.

So much more than just words on a page,
you are the all-consuming flame. You engulf the core—
you are the core—of my being. I hear you
in your silence. Your sounds
shape how I move. Your touch stills me.

You are a child. You are my child.
I bled you into being. I bled you
out of my soul and I bleed now
sending you out into the world.

Child, know: you are everything I could make you.
But, also, you are much, much more. I bleed now
sending you out in faith,
sending you out as lines unspoken.



About this piece

I wrote this about my relationship with words. First Published on Medium.com.

Friday, July 01, 2016

Drained

I am
exhausted,

used up.

When you cry out to me,
I struggle to escape dark places
my dreams take me through.
You cry out for me
so I come for you
but I never wake up.

I am
drained,

empty.

When I cry out to you,
you flit and float through light so high
and sing while I sink deep and low.
You sing to me
and I come for you
but I am barely me.

I come for you
and you come in me
and I am empty,
used up,
exhausted,

drained.


About this piece

This piece is about caring for children, and suffering an abusive relationship, and love. First published on Medium.com.