Throw away the net
of protection
in this world:
jobs, material possessions,
health and fall,
fall into the arms of love.
Trust you will be held,
Held in deep security,
by the Maker,
who wrote your days
before.

You are my safety net.

No more doubt.
No more unhealthy fear.
Shrink back shadows,
You are not welcome in my life.

No more shame.
No more people pleasing.
I shine a light on the truth,
That my future is bright.

No more playing small.
No more self-sabotage.
I stand again,
I will enlarge.

I will seek you for truth.
I will quieten the taunts.
I will stop the tremmers,
And breathe again.

I will receive my fortunes.
I will rejoice in my success.
I will reclaim lost ground,
I will rest.

Where have your words gone?
My lips forever praised you, and
Today is worthy for celebration
For you have delivered me,
You lift me in triumph!

The earth still groans;
We lost our Shepherd
We’ve been left alone.
Now we have a lion roaming the earth, calling His herd,
Celebrate.
Lift your head,
Renew your hope;
Our best days are still ahead.

Yesterday, I spent time with an elderly resident;
Jean, who is the ripe age of 103,
She has been dreaming of dead relatives,
And as she talked, her face shone with pure glee;
She'd spent the night communing in Heaven
Which brought her joy; the picture of eternity.

Can grace be birthed?

I live in the brokenness,
I live in the mystery.
I live in imperfection,
I am human: that’s me.

So, why did I continue to wear
The yoke of slavery?
Continue again and again to tear,
Myself down when You tried to love me?

Only with humility,
Can I accept Your love,
Only with Your sovereignty,
Can grace be birthed; free your dove!

Stillness is where it all begins,
In quietness and rest, you will gain life again.
In release and trust is where it continues.
In standing, with arms wide open,
In outstretching hands,
In exhaling,
In breathing,
In being,
In.
Be.

Mornings are a sacred time
For me.
It's the time I'm most vulnerable
Raw and rare.
It’s the time I seek God,
And speak to Him face-to-face.
It's the time when I hold His hand
And He leads me back
To the Garden,
Free to be seen.

What happens after
success; the things you've
been hoping for,
working towards,
what happens then?

Today I am wearing
One of my father's neckties.
I know it might be a red herring
But it reminds me of him, so I look past all those lies.

It is a pink one,
With silver diamonds scattered.
I think it's rather fashionable
So, caring about others’ hasn't mattered.

I don it with a navy jacket
Just like the ‘ol days: suit & tie.
I’m not here to make a racket
About it, but just to state a point, I cry!

I am a femme fatale
Not a butch,
Rose-gold sneakers attire
Or coloured-heels as such.

It always gets a comment,
Sometimes a whistle or two.
I never thought I was attractive
But these feels, while I’m wearing them, surely do ensue.

I laugh at myself,
Do you?

I will sometimes spontaneously, spill out with song,
The tunes may not make sense, but does that make them wrong?

I will sometimes water the garden in my underwear,
And yes, dance around free, with no care.

These moments are sparse and are to be treasured.
They are the glimmers of life when feeling haggard and weathered.

I have come to the place where I laugh at myself,
Can you?

I am embracing my imperfect body, crazy curls and awkward twirls of a nobody, a somebody…

Everybody….

Now, that's something true.

La La La la.

Do you know how hard
it is to pick up broken
eggshells scattered?
They shatter smaller and further
making picking up the pieces
painstakingly difficult;
fragile matter.

yesterday, I spied children peeking
through a hole in my fence,
ready with their legs stretching
out to step in, I watched in awe
at their bravery and marvelling,
"how far will they go?"
a far-off voice bellowed, they shifted retracting
and ran off giggling in glee
but I was left stunned thinking;
"When did my curiosity leave me?"

Mystery;
That is faith.
But can we have faith
in this world?
When it is so broken;
How did Michael Jackson’s face change?
Struck me while I sat
In church wondering the mysteries
Of the world.
Was it he who changed,
To fit into the world?
Facelifts: nip here and tuck there?
Was it nature?
Pigmentation malfunction?
Or us, who could not handle change,
That made him alter to
Make us feel less uncomfortable?
How different have we become
To make others feel safe,
But in doing so,
Fundamentally,
Lose ourselves altogether?

Power of Remembering

A brisk pace

Walking to work,
I was struck, with the memory:
the time when I could not walk...
After a stroke, during brain surgery, and a 40-day coma…
My step indeed picked up to a brisk pace,
and a smile came upon my face.


Thankful.

Why is it that I've tried so hard
to forget?
When I've spent so long
trying to remember.
Then, when I stop,
it all catches up with me.
You catch up with me.
I catch up with myself.
When did I lose you?
And how did I find myself in this place again?
The place of wanting to run,
Run so fast, hard and away.
From myself, from you, and from the world.
I break,
I'm shattered.
I fear all these little pieces
can't be put back together,
No matter how talented the artist is,
I'm broken.
But then I remind myself of the
Beauty in the broken places.
Breathing again, I walk on into
A new dawn,
A new day,
A new life.

What is true and what is false,
Swirls all around, sending us Into the abyss.
Off course, from our source,
We need to disconnect, from that source.

Cone back, retract,
and realise that
All you need is within you
Right here and right now

Don't fret and regret,
While trying to get your needs met
By others and in
Things,  that will never last.

All I need is within me right now
All I need is within me right now

Discipline your tongue
From lashing out at yourself
And others. Tame
It into a calming balm.

Don't fret and regret,
While trying to get your needs met
By others and in
Things,  that will never last.

All I need is within me right now
All I need is within me right now

Flames lick —
The candle’s wick
Consuming all — 
Waxy thick.
Fire purifies
Impurities’ sick
Enflaming all diseases
And sin’s teases
Leaving them but a speck.

Fasten your mind on God;
Untangle the webs of my mind
As I step away from the
Webs of this world.

Do not rush little beauty,
Nature's timing is perfect.
It will, when ready, gently unfold your petals,
Revealing how you are exquisite.
Though life may bruise you,
New colours will emerge.
Though there may be tears,
Whispery wind will refresh you with a new urge.
Rain will thus come, muttering your soil,
The sunshine with its sublime rays,
No toil will be wasted,
Because all is written on your days.

As the sun slumbers in the dark
The background music:
"tchik-tchik-tchik”  
The cicadas pressing against the bark,
Their rostra stuck into the trunk
to pump out the sap
Just like us as we nap
In these states both parading as drunk.
High in the deep blue sky,
Swifts glide like arrows: “Weer!! … Weer!!!"
They paint ‘Van Gogh’ esk clouds with effortless cheer,
All singing goodbye to the sun with gleeful sighs.
Large, loud locusts oscillate above
Their wings like cymbals: "tsk-****-tsk"
Acclaiming their love with a cheeky wink
Hello darkness, they shout with a buzz!

flat on my back;
muscles seized
after an overdue  
workout.
resting,
trying to relax,
I know it'll
just take time to
work out.

Feel the tension,
Even though it’s uncomfortable,
because it’s where you’ll grow!
Lean into the discomfort,
Feel the disconnect, as
That’s where new life begins!

I am gonna come clean...
I think I am just a
tinsy-wee bit of a
DRAMA QUEEN!

Seeing things
in hyper-colour
When really it's black and white
and lacking wings

Yep,
I’m a queen
Of drama and melodrama
Take me down, down into the deep.

Where there is no sleep,

But a perpetual stream,

of life...

In the heart of the secret garden,
On my morning walking track,
Kokoburras crack the darkness
And sing a love song, cajoling
Other birds to cackle back in return.

I wish I could find
the first poem I wrote...

[was it on paper
or deeper, on my heart;
unblemished hope?]

Were my poems
ever melodies?
Or were they just
internal remedies
to the thick,
sick, and cut off
parts in me?

Did I write limericks,
raps, or pick-up tricks?
Were they from my inner voice
or head, just strong?

Did I ever give them air
to breathe,
like a love song?

Is this why
I am now so prolific;
I would prize that poem long,
put it in a vault to deny
constant criticism from the system...

but then let its spirit float free for all eternity.

In a world of instants, waiting is foreign —
We’ve succeeded in drawing everyone together to our detriment,
That we’re never alone.
Loneliness is feared, rather than embraced,
Draw nearer to the One our heart is longing —

When we wait, we wonder and wander,
This is the place, our heart we discover.
Anxiously, we busy,
Rather than sit, reflect on the other.

We can transcend this moment in time,
Waiting seems like a block, something avoided, rather than embraced as mine.
In this space, we’re not gender or race,
But a being, alive and fine.

Quietly the unheard voice from within,
Speaks, giving you true meaning.
From here creativity is born;
New ways of seeing draws in.

Curiosity can play; dance, sing, build,
In this posture creativity is filled,
Down falls the scales from our eyes,
In this space anxiety is stilled.

When we wait we are dependent, and free,
Eyes are opened and they really see,
The cracks and flaws, the misgivings and discomfort,
But also the beauty and uniqueness; which is me.

I long for You —
I pant for You —

Desperately, I scream, internally,
Till my face is blue —

Here, there is no water,
Only rock, capturing no dew;
But devastatingly reminds me:
There is no home but You!

Cold and dark; sadness looms overhead umbrella-like,
Comforting, not.
Swallowing from within.
Yonder, the door opens and a light shines in.
Sadness flees as company beckons.

I found myself, this morning,
Participating in a ‘new’ sport.
Though timeless, reaching back to my youth.
As the days curb closer, the end of the year nears,
So do the shadows stretch out before me.
Chasing shade spots, as I pounded the pavement,
trying to hide from the sun, which was already 
shooting shards of heat and demanding her dominance.
Shade then became God’s grace revealed.

He hears

Whenever I am lonely,
I cry out to  you.

you are my defender,
I don't need a pretender,
you hold the lock and key,
to my heart; set me free,
from the misogyny.

Desire is like:
a quiet torrent in my womb,
it flows rhythmically
whenever I dare consume
an alternative universe with you.

Courage increases the force,
I dream for the day,
when I am free without remorse.

The pain of life is everywhere,
Sitting below the surface.
It’s too simple to dichotomise here,
We feel it when we don't get the kudos,

And we feel it when love is lost,
So we pull back and hide.
We notice it when our ego’s bruised most
When money on the market slides.

And how about when we text an old friend
No reply comes back, an empty smack.
We apply for a new position, career or trend,
Someone else wins and you get all the flack.

We can't escape the pain, it hits us like rain,
Over and over again we face it.
Wounded, guilty and filled with shame.
despite the pain, we say f*#k it!  And keep going.

stop.
no, don't stop.
go. go farther and further than you've ever been before...
don't stop,
go.

You give me life,
While he tries to ***** it out!

You build me up,
While he tears me down.

You bring clarity,
While he stirs up confusion.

You repair,
He retorts.

You restore.
He doesn’t stand a chance in hell!

I bleed in life
As I bleed in my words;
All over the place
And without convention or order.

As the days slip 
Into chill-filled air,
The watermelon dayz
They seem long gone.
Even with the degrees
Still in the moderate thirties,
I long for those hot, stuffy days
Where we twirled our towels
On our heads and smiled, seed-filled,
And none could distinguish where
Sweet and drippy watermelon grins
Started, and the sweat and slippery long ended.

Deep darkness, despair.
How could you know, you’re not there?
Empty mind I crave,
But constant chatter takes me to the grave.

Fleeing, running; working, studying, drugs, and stuff,
Distractions from revelation; I am enough.
Progress is prized; the final nail,
We need true clarity; the holy grail.

Opening out and up to the mystery unknown,
Here, flourishing can become our own.
Insights of the true us,
Found when there’s nothing, no sound, no ***...

Embracing loneliness can be the pearl sought,
Moving away from things ought,
Turning to the unknown,
Is where true dreams are sewn.

life is a series of edits
and re-edits.
nothing uneditable;
perfect.
life's not over, yet
so I will allow myself
to keep editing.

I want that feeling
that thrill;
Where my heart flutters
And my voice lifts in exultation;
a climactic shrill!
Is this fleeting?
Or is this real?
Is this my heart dreaming
Or is my desire the ideal?

I was in a deep slumber,
And You reached out to me:
“Awake, my darling,” You whispered,
And I opened my eyes anew.

In five seven five
We watch the wave reach the shore
And watch it tumble out.