the stunning perfection of the refridgerator hum

and finally. Enough silence to hear myself say home. My skin settles into well worn places. Curved and soft and warm. My jaw relaxes into comfortable words. My hands refill teapots, endlessly. Enveloped in hope. I am home.

absorbtion method

between forefinger and thumb there is a small space of possibility. held up to the light it reveals the infinite more clearly than the oceans or stars.

the origami of fate is unfathomable. lines folding into eachother like ancient lovers; an intimate familiarty born of paitence and compassion. i can't articulate what is at the point where skin ends and dreaming begins.

i awake and find a small vessel at the nape of my neck. something to sip from and voyage upon. we are led in directions that lack familiar sights but somehow smell like home.

confined to osmosis
we are able to become
everything

absentia

and the city is big and bright and bustling and hungry and dirty and poor. i switch masks every minute. fold small stories into lattes and store morsels of wisdom for quiet moments of reflective retreat.

and the cafes they sparkle and the strangers are captivating and i wonder if i've been absent too long. that dank windy city is on everyones lips like a slut at a key swapping party.

there is something of me in all of these things. i wonder at what i've become. when the penny drops it is neither heads nor tails. i pirouette with it, circling myself until my outline grows blurred and i merge with my past and my future.

departures and arrivals

wandering through no mans land. Ambushed by fluroscent lights and memories of other lives. In these transient places i am every version of myself that has passed through these gates. The sentimentality leeches through the sterility.....and for a moment i miss those other lives. Faces scrubbed fresh with ambition. Matches lit to burn fast and bright. In cold beer gardens we remind ourselves with maps masked as recollections. And suddenly i remember where i have always been.

shot

I spin up into the grey scale horizons. Lurch from coffee shot to coffee shot. Hold on till the world stops turning so fast. Until it slows to the pace of my heart.

I am learning the names of the thousand wishes I carry in a small wooden box. Carved into concrete.Like long lost love affairs. Remembered only when passed.

Fine filaments of dreaming flicker off my clothes. Flecks of possibility float with dust and old skin. Microscopic chandeliers of those parts we no longer need light up in the last rays of the day.

I am mouthing something poignant and unmistakable but even I can't hear what it is.

in preperation

flights of fancy taxi down runways. Turbulance on take off and landings. Rattled like childs play; infantile toys. I regress to thumb sucking and spit bubbles. I get dizzy around calenders. So many days circled. I dream of distant friends and learning to drive. Retracing old ground; resurrecting apparitions. Less recycled, more refined.

stop and....

i remembered everything i needed to have a happy childhood. Part esoteric, part mundane. These small morsels of honesty that carry me from page to page. So much has been about redemption; the moon shaking the earth. All these whimsical confessions, i wonder at what they mean.

double or nothing

my words get tangled because I'm not sure what to say.

these things are only preoccupations. i don't imbue them with any seriousness. my sensations are not nuanced enough to distinguish sharp pains from dull aches.

there's so much i want to express. keep my cards close to my chest. hand over heart. counting suits. full houses and littles straight.

truth is i'm not a player.
i throw out aces and wild cards.

cut

I am sharpening scissors and cutting cords. I am severing all the way down to the bone. My first impulse is to push and shove my way through emotion.

I seek softer hues.

We are not vacumns. We exist only though our interactions. This sensation of skin reminds us we are real.

There are too many answers and not enough questions. I will lay them all down for now.

catching clouds with castnets

i once met a girl who drew the wind. I was trying to make sense of melbourne skies. The grey was distracting and the horizon seemed out of proportion. Now i distill sunshine and collect balmy nights in small jars.

between papers and sheets she smokes and dreams

sometimes i chain smoke just to check if i'm still. Breathing half moon half street light. I am. Captivated by the equinoxes and purgatory. No mans land surrounded by barb wire and telescopic sights. That which we must pass through in the quest for definition. I am obsessed with the ongoing irrevocability of time and thought and space and all things which collide to give meaning. Some questions are meant to remain open ended. I file you down under them.

and it ends as quickly as it begins

settling with small motions.
surely we have made it through the longest nights.

i brighten with each day. layers discarded. strewn across lawns and along hallways. waved like flags to the receeding cold.

and with this a softness. maintaining the contrast with the ever brightening light. all accounts must be balanced. and so my palpitations slow to a swagger. a stroll from heart to mouth.

my mania saited. my confusion receeded.
there is peace now.
at last i can sleep.

lead(ing)

we find truth in tangled leads. Test connections. Searching for signals. Waiting for lights to come on. We grapple with power until something sparks. A reason to dance into the dawn.

charting a new course

truth is muddied by intention. The heart tells no lies. A straight line, on a clear night on a sea smoothed for sailing. Squinting, i can almost see the outline of my childhood. Glistening as only memories can. Singing lullabies on distant shores. I spin in circles, blind folded. Escaping the illusion of the obvious until i sight new land.

on the edge of dawn

i keep watch over the last fragments of night. Share my shift with the streetlights and birds. Laughing and crying punctuate breathing. Intermissions between solace and peace. This is how we learn; with quiet reflection, in humble settings. With sleep crusted eyes and delerious clarity. The light floods into my bedroom like a resolution. I merge with it and the mirror. Once more shining, once more renewed.

baste

thoughts are popcorn; quickly heated, too gaseous to nurture or nourish. Wrapped in sugar, salt and butter. Fast foods for quick footed times. I simmer slowly. Taste each new ingredient before slicing and sauteeing. I am taking notes from my ancestors on cauldrons and chopping boards.

doens't make much sense, but then most things don't

if every whispher were audible I would run in every direction. my body shredded and floating. over the ranges, into the sea.

i fire small warning shots. test my ammunition. fireworks are our closest approximation of what lies beyond the atmosphere.

we turn over new leaves and old car engines.
both grumble before they awake

transit

moving beyond the grey scale into CYMK. my abbreviations grow like shortened breaths. a rapid fire of exhalation.

i am charting small transitions until the present eclipses the past. i wade into waters where clear coated bottoms are magnified in the light.

all i have learnt is illuminated against the clear blue of desert skies.

dazzle

time is decidious. i grow addicted to the hues of red, gold and brown.

the day dazzles into being. i find metaphors in frost melting. mistaken for rain.

she reminds me of everything i'd forgotten i remembered. i scrawl concentric circles in the dirt as we speak.

you save me with these small gestures. each one a landslide contained within a heartbeat.

a little more like it

Sunlight pours into the town. My crescendo catches a beat before the refrain. I am yet to spark, but flicking matches. Holding them close between finger and thumb.

There are trails that lead off into scrubland. Unchartered. Some rainbows desire more than gold. Some talk show hosts don't know how to listen.

We rely on paradox to speak the truth.

I have not been as articulate as I could be. But I have been swimming in the foglands for week. And I have just dragged my carcasses through five kinds of revelation before breakfast.

I'll be back in a sec....

breakers

we hold so much for so long. Then it breaks over us. And we descend below the turbulance. Flirt with drowning. Try to merge with the foam and the sharks and the wind. We emerge with lungs bursting and sand scraped knees catching the new light of day. Amphibian, we dwell here, part water, part sea, part sky.

a dawn

we awake from dreaming with salt crusted eyes. Adjusting to sunshine, we flicker until the spectrum soldifies. Tendons snap in new directions. Muscles stretch until new shapes form constellations of sinew and skin. With each breath i am elated by the journey from was to is.