How quickly we’ve been brought down,
On bended knees, crying please,
Stop the disease, we’ll take off the crown,
To our lives; listening to lies, mantras of self-help tease,
Hope beyond now. Clear the mental fog; refocus.

How quickly we’ve been brought down,
On bended knees, crying please,
Stop the disease, we’ll take off the crown,
To our lives; listening to lies, mantras of self-help tease,
Hope beyond now. Clear the mental fog and refocus.

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

living foolheartedly,
open and free,
embodying all senses
to make sense of you and me.

The cycle of life;
The journeys we traverse,
etched in our bodies:
tattoos of the well-lived
loved and even loathed.
That’s a full life, isn’t it?
Leaving traces of our existence.

squeals of delight
float out across the horizon
from children in the houses
nearby.

then, cries of fight
follow after they tear open
treasures, discard disappointment
feebly.

many will gather day and night
full bellies will ensue,
then ambivalent skumber,
mixed tearily.

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!

Thank You for the pain —
Thank You for Your wisdom.
Thank You for the angst —
Thank You for letting it run its course.
Thank You for Your grace —
Thank You for letting me be,
fancy-face and free.
You are gracious and kind.
You are loving, Your words bind.
You are tender.
With no remorse, You're re-making me slender.
Your fingerprints are love marks all over;
Kisses from heaven.

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.

time and times to remember
sailing mostly quietly by

a memory worth remembrance
-love you found despite yourself

travelling a finite road
-with eternal consequence

friends and past lovers gone
-often prayer leaves the lips

a whispered personal conversation
-with the God of Love

in your loneness
this is the best you've got.

The birds tell a story,
Of what we humans do.
Their chirps and their tweets,
Are confirmation of who and what we knew.

Though we may not see
It, their eyes scan the skies.
And other varieties capture
our uncommunicated idiosyncracies.

The birds in the sky,
Test the temperature of our times.
They hold our secrets,
And much more importantly, our lies.

And so shall I.

The Burra boomed
Shattering stillness
And announcing
all ‘smart’ phones alarms are defunct.
Lights lit up  one-by-by one,
As the sleepy slumber was no more.
Daily grind begins
On setting 2.0 on
The bean machine.
Thrive or die:
the mantra for this world.

How do we miss our call?
What's distracting us today from hearing and trusting at all?

The clouds look old today, grey and sagging.
They hang lifeless, bringing everything down with them.
I shiver, not with potential, but with bitterness
About the bleak foreboding that looms.

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.

The controller sits in her tower,
Blasting down commands:
Do this, and do that,
Reverberating are her demands.
How to calm her bellow? I ponder.
How did she get so loud?!
But then, sometimes it's so subliminal,
Her messages that silence the proud.
Silence is deathly, it kills life when left unchecked,
Is it peaceful or suffocating?
Is it healing or is it a tragedy?
Can I change? Or is this how she'll be for the duration?
I have hope in you oh Lord,
That you will calm the controller.
I have trust in you, oh Lord,
But I just have to let out this holler...

It was pitch black
as I walked this morning.
The earth is turning.
All anxieties that flee
In the light,
That couldn't be cracked
In the black loom large.
Until almost home.

Never did I want to be a boxer,
But I’ve spent quite a lot of time in the ring.
All I’ve wanted was to daydream,
To play, write and sing.

But there’s always been a block:
Distraction,
A thief that’s knocked me down and robbed me true,
From harnessing my introspection.

Pushed up against the wall,
Beaten blue and black,
Suffering in this moment,
Focusing more on what I lack.

But I’m ready now,
To change: I MUST CHANGE,
Or I’ll lose much, much more,
Than I’ve already exchanged.

At church this morning,
As we were saying 
The Lord's Prayer
There was a thump and a crash,
Then the drums went boom, boom, boom
The congregation gasped,
The drummer collapsed: and fell.
It was both shocking and devastating,
He embodied the mystery of life and the fall,
But thankfully 
There was a Doctor in the house;
Heaven on Earth!
Allayleuya!

We shall feast
One day.
On rows upon rows 
Of delicious morsels,
Lucious liquid that will quench our thirst;
Bursting from the wellspring within 
As we commune;
With Saints sensing the Mystery.
How full we all will be;
Forevermore.

Sad,
Scared.
If I don’t have a plan —
The unknown...
Isn’t that where faith steps in?
Yes! but I’m scared.
Or alive?
Scared.
Or awake?
Stifled?
No, alive!
Feeling,
Not censoring.
Being,
Not just existing.
This is the beginning.
Allow yourself to feel.
Emotions are a gift to the soul.
Embrace "The Feels"!

You flutter your flighty, fleeting tunes,
Lift us too, beyond,
To the stars and moon.

We exist in the world
Of the living;
Living with the ghost of absence --
All the many losses;
We carry them in our breath,
In our bones,
In our eternity of memories
Passed down through generations,
After generation,
After generation --
Losing ourselves
But gaining many losses,
Becoming ghosts of absence --

There is something about a library
That gets me thinking,
All those volumes make me fiery.
The mind travels far and wide, linking
Me to places I can hide. Lives lost
In dusty old books,
New lives imagined where there is no cost
But farcical flying carpets high above chinooks.

I cook delicious and dainty treats,
And watch other readers’ faces post euphoria.
I learn how to write a cinematic screenplay that’ll get bums on seats,
Ideas generated a plethora.

A quiet and soulful space,
Libraries help you positively grow.
In here, I can understand the myriad of lace,
And how to safely stitch a satin dress to flow.

In here, I've also fallen asleep,
So tired from overstimulation.
The overseers struggled to rouse from deep,
As these books hastened satisfied adulation.

This is a base
That deserves your attention,
We’ll benefit from reading your next case
Transported to lofty lands by the prose you mention.

hungover...
from tiredness,
sleepless as I lay in weight,
heavy heart, blurry brain;
a complete mess.
brittle bones, dull tones, life lost,
courage scattered from the night before.
Trying to remember, "I am not less!"
One way to get unstuck,
own your truth, not give a f@#k,
and be gentleness,
to myself and all around,
which is the most profound
of this journey, I profess.
it's not over.
.
.
.
It's just begun!

This morning I mosied,
Literally and figuratively.
A new experience, not,
But today I felt myself as this person:
A mosier!
Shuffling around my house,
Not yet ready to really rise
But hungry and praying for a surprise.
And, I s’pose I found one in this word!
A smiling Mosier am I.

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.

The *** sat smouldering on the bench,
It was cold and quiet.
If I didn’t touch it,
If I avoided it,
If I pretended it did not exist,
Then I could continue on by?
Then I would fine?
But, in that *** lay the source of my potential.
Something I over looked.
Something that I dismissed out of fear,
Out of disgust?
Something that I didn’t value.
But, when I gave breath to anger,
The coals lit up.
They glistened like a temptress;
Ready for a night on the prowl.
She got her opportunity to rise,
Steel capped boots on,
Cat of ‘nine tails’ in hand.
She went on a rampage with righteousness rage.
No one could hide.
And when she stopped,
Nothing was left in her path,
Only desolation.
Hope seemed lost,
But a new life came.
Light broke through the darkness, and
Quietness and solitude satisfied.

Glued, we’ll stop and sit
And watch that race capture our Nation.
We admire the breed, stamina and steed
Both mare and filly together.

We may get dressed up,
Even if we’re not there trackside.
Big-brimmed hat or bunched boutique,
Mini skirt or pant-suit joined
With man on hip wearing a top hat.
We whistle and cheer,
Throw our hands in the air
As the horse rounds the bend.

We feel so close to the action
That we’re all bopping up and down
As if we’re the ones striding,
But it's the TAB that's riding us!

When we all bet on our favourite horse;
The pink and yellow stripes,
Got me, I’ll smile and swallow
The next glass of champagne, or sparkling Chardonnay,
because we’re in Australia,
Far outside that region.

I remember grinning,
As I claimed my winnings -
gold coins and sipping sparkling cider,
And declared: yeah, I picked that rider!

The scent of the garden,
Left its traces on my hands,
As I danced around pulling weeds
and disposing of them in bands.

People share
Stuff with me,
From the mundane
To the horrific;
When we sit together
It all comes out
In drips….
Free flow, and like
***** —


     I hold it
As if it were
A porcelain vase;
Fragile yet robust
And I triage,


The greater needs
At large:
Safety,
Reconnection
And calm.
So their sense of self
Is held.

The world is a good place —
But there are some f#*cked up
People in it.

I can't stop the damage;
But I can hold the fragments
And pay homage
To the extraordinary
Lives of courage.

Mid-sentence: this story can go either way,
Doom and gloom, or full of joy.
Hold your nerve, believe in happy endings,
There’s a bigger story; written from a far but lived out day-to-day.

seeking,
slicing,
selfies,
'ice-ing,'
the 'Golden Age' is gone.

weeping,
swiping,
exhibiting galore,
pricelessness pawned
for ****.

texting,
sexting,
'Brexiting'
'****'ing,
endlessly searching for that score.

the jungle was out there,
but now it is in the norm.

Old Stanley pub,
Known around here for its blues
And delicious grub.
Fueled by blanc De blanc,
Makes you sway 
Infused by all intoxicating effects,
as the croons slay.

Line for line,
I write my thoughts down,
Scripting my inner
Monologue.

Thought by thought
I turn them over
My motivations and intentions;
My driving dialogue.

I poke, I ****,
Scrutinise and summarise.
I leave them and walk away
And then I catalogue.

I cry out on the inside:
Why can't it just come easy
But that's perfectionism
The *****, I want to flog!

This road doesn't grow thin,
But gets deeper within.
Or is it like a diamond, 
Compressed within in the smog?

I was a late bloomer
To coffee, introduced via
The slow progression
From hot chocolate,
Advancement to a latte with two;
Latte with one,
Then a flat white!

Each transition marked a significant life succession;
Graduation from High School,
The first time I kissed a girl,
Waking up from the coma,
My first house purchase —

(Not that I was aware of the deeper meaning at the time)

Coffee became my driving force; searching out new experiences, cafes around the country and overseas —

Each time I held a cup
In my hand,
I was holding myself —
And my dreams, grand
Some spoken, many not
Even dared.

The thirst became a daily ritual,
Transforming my inner reflective space
As I too matured,
Softened, shaped by life and grace.

Not everything needs to be instant.
After three days He rose again;
Perfection in human form.

The rush;
Connecting thoughts, ideas and concepts
into words, stories and a lush
life, to be read by you;
pulsating, feel the ambush,
throughout the universe.
Symbiosis; can't get enough!

God is love. 
God created man and woman to love one another, 
You and I have a choice,
But we live in a fallen world, where your choice might not align with God's will, but He still loves us.
God calls us to love one another as He has loved us
We are to unite, not divide. 
To love, not to hate. 
To encourage, not discourage. 
To help those less fortunate than oneself. 
To give hope to those who need it
To pray at all times. 
God is sovereign, but he uses us to be His hands and feet...
I am not the healer, God is, but I can be a vessel for His healing love here on earth through relationships
...
And through poetry?!

The air was thick and hot;
The flies floated atop.
The tall trees, gums, gave
Jaggered shade, tiger stripes
on my skin they made.

Tic tok;
Seconds, turn into
minutes, stock
up hours through
days,
months, blur into
years.
I have been given life.
Good, bad, joys and tears,
Everything; strife.
Tic Tok,
Strikes the clock of time;
Precious moments
are thus mine.
Tic Tok.

I love my job(s),
But today, I want to skip
Work.

I want to lay, lathered in the bath with bubbles
For hours.

I want to find a new favourite
Cafe and try a new flavour.

I want to pick up my paintbrushes
and swash down scant dashes
Of paint, ink, and textures
On a canvas.

I want to write
Poetry while drinking Plonk.

I want to play dress-ups
That's yet to come.

Today.