A world

beyond a world

beyond a world

it leaves me over-curled

There's no arriving
even if thought so
by the traveller
the journey is just beginning

the mind deceives
a sticking-point seeking
and speaks: 'all is resolved'-
but it's illusive thinking!

life is a process stretching
to future unknown dimensions
there is no fixed destination
every step is but a crossing

beyond the bounds of the now
mankind is born to sad desiring
the exploring into time but manifests
the heart is still in wanting.

Life wouldn't be
   a wasteland
    if the meaning
    of living
    you understand

   there's the green land-
   the pasture, the foliage
   the running stream
   the beaming sea
   the love, the joy
   the beauty and wonder-edge

   nurture and nourish
   your precious dream
   aim not for the froth
   but the very cream

  that's found within yourself
  unsullied and unblemished
   the innermost sacred kingdom
   that you alone can claim -

   in arrival
   you'd have turned
   the wasteland
   into Wonderland

Let not yourself
be the mirror of another

Bigger than life?
not me, oh no!
neither smaller
just what I am--not much to show

Mel Dare
​

Mel Dare is an Australian visual artist and educator based in Perth, Western Australia. Her work explores the construction of personal narrative specifically in regards to it's relationship with how meaning is created.  This has led her to investigate different but interrelated subjects such as subjectivity, psychology, neurology, biology, identity, time and perspective.
​
During the last 16 years the artist has produced 9 solos, 3 duos and her work has been selected for numerous group exhibitions including Steal (2016), Scene (2016), Pure Contemplation Without Knowledge (2015, 2016), Dot on the Run (2015, 2016), Bankwest Art Prize (2015), Painting as an Artform (2015), Albany Art Prize (2014), Midwest Art Prize (2014), Waterhouse Natural Science Art Prize (2014) and Florid (2014, Turner Galleries and 45 Downstairs). It has been acquired by City of Joondalup, St John of God, Princess Margaret Hospital, Old Swan Brewery and many other national and international collections.

Dare lectures in drawing at Central Tafe and has taught art at Curtin University of Technology, Bandyup and Nyandi Prisons, Applecross Gifted & Talented Program, Nascha Inc (disabilities services) and various other private and public organisations. In addition she has undertaken various curatorial projects including Darlington Open Art Awards 2016, 12 Days and Gotham Returns (with Andrew Nicholls). Dare has been a resident artist at Gotham Studios since 2008.

Birds of a feather
don't flock together
they fight for food
bite and peck at one another

Bird-songs
bring back fond memories
we were scouts and we camped
in the forest-long ago--seems centuries

when friendship was strong and pure
when life was such a kind friend
amidst bird-songs we sang The Happy Wanderer
and many other melodies--hoping there would be no end

to our simple joys and the world we would continue
to dance with and embrace
under the bright stars and before the camp-fire
each of us wore a lovely moon-lit face

and now we meet fifty years hence
we have so little to say-- bird-songs bring no solace-
our hearts have hardened and the trials
of life have taken their toll---written on our every face

Self-isolation
the sharpening
of contemplation


not a rebuke
but humility
and transformation

nothing
is now the same
the hardest transition

the self
looks at itself
in revaluation

reaching out
in common humanity
and compassion

the past revisited
nostalgia
in recollection

pettiness and trivia
set aside
birth of a new vision

a strange unity
when differences are set aside
in common supplication

mankind
as family
one nation

when things
come together
the celebration

tried and purified
the human heart
reaches its highest dimension.

My friends quit too quickly
    my enemies hold on to last a century

This is the way to doing well
           just learn two words: I shall!

I should prefer being silent
  to being eloquent

Men man-age--it's true
     but women can too!

Trust
to what extent I must?

There or here
           my heart I should hear

It's not necessary to be clever
        if somehow you can do a job better

Someone you will remember
        by their voice, though long over

The real me
     I'll wait to see

It's hard for me to define
      that wisdom is not mine

From your self
         of yesterday
         take leave--go somewhere
         you could see life in a new way

I've never sought for conquest
quietly I work,  I do my best

We are all sellers*
      and buyers#
     in terms figurative
     there's no other way to live

I don't wish to be a flower
   being a blade of **** will suit me fine
   I'll embrace the beauty of every hour
   and still share in common the day's sunshine

Everyone claims to have their own case
no wonder there's chaos in every place

You should never regard yourself as failure
        if you don't care about any other's measure

Even the expert
    could sound absurd!

There's an art to everything-
        thinking, writing, reading, listening
        but the most important thing
        is that of purposeful living

Three words we should celebrate:
         learn to wait

I'll be in your company
         if we share the bond of humanity

Blaming others---blame
is life's most popular game

Let's agree to give blame
a bad and stinking name

The same tune
should not be over-played
its beauty has faded

words that once delighted
should know when to rest
and not be over-repeated

how glorious that museum-painting
it brings tears to the beholding eyes
two of its kind would  diminish in meaning

my heart I should not perennially ask:
how much does she truly love me?
it would put me to ignoble task.

The mind is warped
it begets words of wrath and vengeance
the heart is hardened
poison lurks in every sentence

progress swallows civilisation
sepulchral is history
peace is buried
  sleeps eternally

  the rose is blemished
   it weeps and hangs down its head
   the sea is polluted
beauty is dead

   nowhere could I turn
   only love alone can save me
    from ruins for none else
    would show me any pity.

In being alive

my heart opens to sing

all else I set aside

such joys does the moment bring-



in being alive

love blooms as in sweetest spring

in bliss I abide

there's splendour in everything

Because I was left behind
my right path I managed to find

Too many lives

are led in vying

leaving no room

for living

I don't have the answer
not even half or a quarter
should I mind at all
does it really matter?

They have the answers
let them preach and utter
I know there's no moon by day
no snow falling in summer.

Too much questioning
is life's constant spoiler
the fields and hills are silent
in unspoken grandeur.

Love, smiles and tenderness
these are what I dearly treasure
how could bliss and perfection be defined?
we should hark not to the ignorant philosopher.

Don't look elsewhere:
      your best blueprint
      is within

.....but body language
    can be fake

When you are about to burst into anger

view the situation from another angle

Nothing that's done in good faith
should be a matter for regret

I am but
a book-cover
don't be deceived
forget the illustrated colour!

Because I could count
the coins in my kitty
they hardly emanate a sound
that makes me truly happy!

My heart to books
is inseparably bound
from all their looks
I know I'm on sacred ground

Boredom is not a joke
it's insidious and ubiquitous
relentless is its every poke
dark, sombre, dry and humourless

Boredom--a living death
those afflicted in despair
bore their hole in solemn ground
for the next kingdom they prepare.

A boy becomes a man
  a girl becomes a woman
  when in love they land
  it would be THEIR moment: Amen!

When speaking in brevity
is in itself the victory
rambling belongs to the shallow
many who speak do not really know

I've to be brief-
listeners are busy
they will rush
for the door
when they regard
my extra words
as unnecessary

Short sentences do me well

I don't labour over what to tell