Tuesday, December 27, 2011
99 beautiful moments: a study
And I will go where the wind blows, even if its just round on circles.
I will whistle like the pines when it blows through me. I will quiver when it whips round my limbs.
I will foam and crest like the waves when it rides within me, licking the place where the earth meets the sea.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
99 beautiful moments: a study
From distant voygages we return to our moorings, the apocolypse dance of the lighthouse behind us.
Salt encrusted and sun drenched, our bodies sinewed by sea shores so distant we forgot the language for home.
And for the last time we drop anchor. And it rests on the bones of our ancestors. And we remember the celestial beauty lost on functionality. Our hearts no longer seek guidence from the heavens.
We are lost no more.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
99 beautiful moments: a study
on descent
every wave that crashes must eventually return to the water.
when all is exhaled in that eventual pounding, the truth is formless and enters the abyss.
each foaming crest, each concaved roll, must eventually lick it's descent.
and it is this gesture that erases our footprints, making sand from stone
every wave that crashes must eventually return to the water.
when all is exhaled in that eventual pounding, the truth is formless and enters the abyss.
each foaming crest, each concaved roll, must eventually lick it's descent.
and it is this gesture that erases our footprints, making sand from stone
Thursday, December 15, 2011
99 beautiful moments: a study
as the road forks
we emerge unscathed, if a little ruffled
the year drones into long hot days
gratitude shows up at just the right moment,
late at night, drinking whiskey alone.
now all that I have has been divided
some years discarded, some given away
in the echoing undulations of time
each triumph opens onto a vista
cultivating grace in rocky terrains
I am humbled by my gentler kin
we emerge unscathed, if a little ruffled
the year drones into long hot days
gratitude shows up at just the right moment,
late at night, drinking whiskey alone.
now all that I have has been divided
some years discarded, some given away
in the echoing undulations of time
each triumph opens onto a vista
cultivating grace in rocky terrains
I am humbled by my gentler kin
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
post script
For V
the mirror exists only to show us
what we look like
we are not our reflections.
I struggled with yours for so long;
turned it over in my palm
till my nervous twitch
smoothed
that which was sharpened
shined
that which was dulled
this is the only way I know
with stones
the mirror exists only to show us
what we look like
we are not our reflections.
I struggled with yours for so long;
turned it over in my palm
till my nervous twitch
smoothed
that which was sharpened
shined
that which was dulled
this is the only way I know
with stones
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
99 beautiful moments: a study
sixty six
i bait my breath
a small hook
dangling in the open air
my thoughts run wild
bolting past my heart
caught in my throat
i bait my breath
a small hook
dangling in the open air
my thoughts run wild
bolting past my heart
caught in my throat
Friday, November 4, 2011
99 beauitful moments: a study
Sixty five
The gentle hum
of productivity
drowns out the screaming
deadlines
The gentle hum
of productivity
drowns out the screaming
deadlines
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
99 beautiful moments: a study
sixty four
the rain caresses
the range in tendrils
clouds draped across the horizon
i slide down them
into the earth
the rain caresses
the range in tendrils
clouds draped across the horizon
i slide down them
into the earth
Sunday, October 30, 2011
99 beautiful moments: a study
sixty three
silence followed me
until I befriended it
only then did I hear it sing
silence followed me
until I befriended it
only then did I hear it sing
Friday, October 28, 2011
99 beautiful moments: a study
sixty two
my heart is a small vessel
and it takes on the mighty
sea with only the wind behind it
embedded in it's waves
navigating by starlight
it knows which way
is north
fills it's sails with the breath
of angels in its search
for a distant sure
my heart is a small vessel
and it takes on the mighty
sea with only the wind behind it
embedded in it's waves
navigating by starlight
it knows which way
is north
fills it's sails with the breath
of angels in its search
for a distant sure
99 beautiful moments: a study
sixty one
delicate in it's design
grief softly signals changes
giving weight to what passes
so i will feel it lift
and left behind
delicate in it's design
grief softly signals changes
giving weight to what passes
so i will feel it lift
and left behind
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
99 beautiful moments: a study
sixty
tracing the night sky
with techology
mavelling at how
little we
know
tracing the night sky
with techology
mavelling at how
little we
know
Saturday, October 22, 2011
99 beautiful moments: a study
fifty nine
skins grow elastic
ballooning with each breath
until my very essence fits
inside you
and though I think
I'm floating
I actually drift
across your face
skins grow elastic
ballooning with each breath
until my very essence fits
inside you
and though I think
I'm floating
I actually drift
across your face
Sunday, October 16, 2011
99 beautiful moments: a study
by way of explanation
We forgive because love leaves us no option
because the sky cannot hold the weather
accountable for last years rains
while the sun still shines
I will make haste to dry tears
and shelter when the clouds billow and blow
We forgive because love leaves us no option
because the sky cannot hold the weather
accountable for last years rains
while the sun still shines
I will make haste to dry tears
and shelter when the clouds billow and blow
Monday, October 10, 2011
99 beautiful moments: a study
fifty six
on departing the archipeligo, i invert reality.
as greens will be awash in reds
the bustle becoming silence
the horizons gushing outwards
until they explode into distance
and the stars reappear
on departing the archipeligo, i invert reality.
as greens will be awash in reds
the bustle becoming silence
the horizons gushing outwards
until they explode into distance
and the stars reappear
Thursday, October 6, 2011
99 beautiful moments; a study
My heart is every shade of a single hue. The horizon leaps into me. Endlessly layered upon itself. I try to extract myself from it, to draw a line around my form, yet I find myself inesca
pable as the foreground leaks into my skin.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
99 beautiful moments: a study
fifty six
no embers without ashes
we trace the cremated remains
of trees, stark whites against black soil
no smudged sunsets without smoke
Monday, August 29, 2011
99 beautiful moments: a study
fifty five
where will this current
lead me, around the corner
to soothing depths, soundless
in their serenity
skating across shallows
and slipstreams gliding
dividing myself between
stones
beneath all these things
sculpting canyons
in my resemblance
looping back into
myself
where will this current
lead me, around the corner
to soothing depths, soundless
in their serenity
skating across shallows
and slipstreams gliding
dividing myself between
stones
beneath all these things
sculpting canyons
in my resemblance
looping back into
myself
Sunday, August 28, 2011
99 beautiful moments: a study
fifty four
you ask me to rise.
i eye off the bar.
testing it's weight
against mine.
breath drawn
like a bow
propelling me
into flight.
you ask me to rise.
i eye off the bar.
testing it's weight
against mine.
breath drawn
like a bow
propelling me
into flight.
Friday, August 26, 2011
99 beuatiful moments: a study
fifty three
moments snatched like stolen lollies and incompleted tax returns.
almost falling before we catch ourselves; this is how we walk.
every stroke includes submergence and coming up for air.
moments snatched like stolen lollies and incompleted tax returns.
almost falling before we catch ourselves; this is how we walk.
every stroke includes submergence and coming up for air.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
final requests
you ask of me one more thing: will i hold this grief for you?
a small thing, i measure it's weight. watching it as it expands.
it engulfs me; this small thing measured between finger and thumb;
it's elasticity, hypnotic. sands stain my eyes.
i ask myself of myself one more thing: how quickly will it pass.
as long as it takes an angel to dance on a ball of string
that reaches to the moon and back again. as long
as it takes the stars to remember how to twinkle.
as long as i hold onto it. thats how long
it lasts.
a small thing, i measure it's weight. watching it as it expands.
it engulfs me; this small thing measured between finger and thumb;
it's elasticity, hypnotic. sands stain my eyes.
i ask myself of myself one more thing: how quickly will it pass.
as long as it takes an angel to dance on a ball of string
that reaches to the moon and back again. as long
as it takes the stars to remember how to twinkle.
as long as i hold onto it. thats how long
it lasts.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
99 beautiful moments: a study
fifty two
when we tire of holding it
together we learn
to hold our own
when we tire of holding it
together we learn
to hold our own
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
in the interim
until it breaks me
i will pen these posts
in the isolation of crowded rooms
i will dance upon the piano
to the music
of broken keys
i will sweep it all up
and drop it again
like a comic routine on loop
i will photograph the stars
stumbling
before they fall
until it breaks me
i will masticate my dreams
whilst i am asleep
until the fine
filimants of ideas
turn into hope
until every sigh
sounds like a siren
until every horizon is a sure
and it will not break me
for i iwill know it
as my own
i will pen these posts
in the isolation of crowded rooms
i will dance upon the piano
to the music
of broken keys
i will sweep it all up
and drop it again
like a comic routine on loop
i will photograph the stars
stumbling
before they fall
until it breaks me
i will masticate my dreams
whilst i am asleep
until the fine
filimants of ideas
turn into hope
until every sigh
sounds like a siren
until every horizon is a sure
and it will not break me
for i iwill know it
as my own
Thursday, August 18, 2011
99 Beautiful Moments: A study
Fourty Nine
the wind sweeps
tears from the sky
I catch them
on my cheeks
the wind sweeps
tears from the sky
I catch them
on my cheeks
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
Friday, August 12, 2011
toss and turning
after sleepless nights, an new day dawns
and the light is strangely refreshing.
coiled limbs are stretched
like skins cracked
and shed
scales shining
are balanced again
and the fear that gnaws
is toothless
and it's mouth
though wide
is not so bold
we reach into the abyss
to find no monsters
only the unknown
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
requiem
standing on the edge of the storm, waiting for the rest of my life to appear. this fixation on signposts and trail blazers leaves me counting footsteps and sniffing tracks.
she reminds me of my history. of these things so repeatitious that i forget they even exist until someone points them out. the way i crook my my hand slightly inwards drinking tea, these small cricles of despair that i dance around myself.
i could never be enough for me, or anybody else
post script
then the smoke reveals the golden lining of the clouds. and you remember that the sky is always the exact shade you need it to be. and you take it into you until it is of you. until your heart is light enough to bear.
she reminds me of my history. of these things so repeatitious that i forget they even exist until someone points them out. the way i crook my my hand slightly inwards drinking tea, these small cricles of despair that i dance around myself.
i could never be enough for me, or anybody else
post script
then the smoke reveals the golden lining of the clouds. and you remember that the sky is always the exact shade you need it to be. and you take it into you until it is of you. until your heart is light enough to bear.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
99 beautiful moments: a study
fourty five
the last of the rains
inhaled into the earth
fracturing beneath feet
the last of the rains
inhaled into the earth
fracturing beneath feet
Friday, July 29, 2011
beautiful moments: a study
fourty four
The landscape drifts
fine charcoal filaments fall
Apart between fingers and froth
The landscape drifts
fine charcoal filaments fall
Apart between fingers and froth
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
99 beautful moments a study
fourty two
we break from the routine to mimic the sky;
the imperceptible undulations
of uncountable refractions
shattering the light
into softness
we break from the routine to mimic the sky;
the imperceptible undulations
of uncountable refractions
shattering the light
into softness
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Monday, July 11, 2011
Monday, July 4, 2011
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Friday, July 1, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
Saturday, June 18, 2011
intermission
and then the morning opens its palms
to let the light in, and with it
warmth. the layers worn so long
they are the colour of your skin
peel back and reveal flesh so untouched
you wonder if you ever really sinned
and you are thrown back by it
the simple domestic architecture
the small plants struggling with life
the mundane heroics over looked
in the busyness of your mind.
and you wonder how long you have
been away, your heart cries out
in a different accent and the furniture
looks at you quizzicly, much
like an old friend.
and you wake from your slumber,
completley, the first time
in so very long
to let the light in, and with it
warmth. the layers worn so long
they are the colour of your skin
peel back and reveal flesh so untouched
you wonder if you ever really sinned
and you are thrown back by it
the simple domestic architecture
the small plants struggling with life
the mundane heroics over looked
in the busyness of your mind.
and you wonder how long you have
been away, your heart cries out
in a different accent and the furniture
looks at you quizzicly, much
like an old friend.
and you wake from your slumber,
completley, the first time
in so very long
Friday, June 17, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Friday, June 10, 2011
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Monday, June 6, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Monday, May 30, 2011
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Friday, May 27, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Beautiful moments: a study
five
I
spiders build webs
to capture love
thought lost
II
plates piled high
emptied
heart filled
I
spiders build webs
to capture love
thought lost
II
plates piled high
emptied
heart filled
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
a crisis of dawning
all my lifelines are offline, drifting in sleep. i settle for solo softenings with deep breaths and gentle reassurances uttered into the mirror.
the past and present swirl with dreamings. i am set adrift in the open sea. my imaginings fill spaces with hope and despair and all that i traverse in between.
i miss the way we tumbled into love
the distance aches
the past and present swirl with dreamings. i am set adrift in the open sea. my imaginings fill spaces with hope and despair and all that i traverse in between.
i miss the way we tumbled into love
the distance aches
Friday, May 20, 2011
between solitude and lonliness
with a full head and an empty heart i scour the streets for something warm.
amidst the isolation i wonder why these are not my peers. sometimes a dream is so close you can sniff it and yet the belly fails to ache with hunger. i wonder at the life i have carved for myself and fear my mothers curse.
a thousand miles away something calls
barely audible above the waves
amidst the isolation i wonder why these are not my peers. sometimes a dream is so close you can sniff it and yet the belly fails to ache with hunger. i wonder at the life i have carved for myself and fear my mothers curse.
a thousand miles away something calls
barely audible above the waves
Monday, May 16, 2011
clean slate
we sprawl in sun and stretch limbs from earth to sky.
i find lessons in the small plants that grow so imperceptibly. in the clean spaces claimed in solitude. in the endless tetris of was and is.
finding the perfect place is an ongoing process.
the chicken and the egg are part of the same cycle.
there is no distinction between beginning and end.
Monday, May 9, 2011
like an apple, like a mango, like a pear
specifics elude me but i never forget an idea.
all things are birthed from limbo. growing pregnant with possibility. bellys bloated with smoke before fire. i just use ciggerettes as an excuse.
every reflection and recollection reminds me that i'm older than ever before. ripening on windowsills and in cupboards. a decade fluttering behind like a flag airing allegiences on the wind.
all things are birthed from limbo. growing pregnant with possibility. bellys bloated with smoke before fire. i just use ciggerettes as an excuse.
every reflection and recollection reminds me that i'm older than ever before. ripening on windowsills and in cupboards. a decade fluttering behind like a flag airing allegiences on the wind.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
on the distance
we hold the sky in our hearts like a childhood memory.we hold the sky in our hearts like a childhood memory.a background for action and meaning.
when bearings run thin and horizons run steep. we settle for the distance remaining. a kaleidescope of possibility chasing the hours around us.
in the disconnection we find solitudeand that draws us back to ourselves.n the distance
we hold the sky in our hearts like a childhood memory.we hold the sky in our hearts like a childhood memory.
a background for action and meaning.
when bearings run thin and horizons run steep. we settle for the distance remaining. a kaleidescope of possibility chasing the hours around us.
in the disconnection we find solitude
a background for action and meaning.
when bearings run thin and horizons run steep. we settle for the distance remaining. a kaleidescope of possibility chasing the hours around us.
in the disconnection we find solitude
and that draws us back to ourselves.
Friday, May 6, 2011
barbecue
lets slaughter the sacred cow...it's eating all the trees
my definitions lie dormant. static codes kicked up in dust. an absence of innovation.
when fear passes the threshold, none of us make it out unscathed. in the corner a kettle boils and i am dancing to it's whistle. like a freight train on amphetamines. i can't stop to carry the load.
all of my sins are absolved as i lick the salt from your skin.
somewhere deeper a small seed sprouts.
i shelter it from the wind.
my definitions lie dormant. static codes kicked up in dust. an absence of innovation.
when fear passes the threshold, none of us make it out unscathed. in the corner a kettle boils and i am dancing to it's whistle. like a freight train on amphetamines. i can't stop to carry the load.
all of my sins are absolved as i lick the salt from your skin.
somewhere deeper a small seed sprouts.
i shelter it from the wind.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
empirical measures
biology eludes me.
i make peace with stacatto rythems. put my faith in bigger things. my shadow oscillates with the sunlight. i investigate the merits of shade.
emerging from the sludge i convince myself I am amphibious. part water, part soil. a fusion of that which is above and also below.
blinded by the brightness i retrain my eyes to see inside.
i make peace with stacatto rythems. put my faith in bigger things. my shadow oscillates with the sunlight. i investigate the merits of shade.
emerging from the sludge i convince myself I am amphibious. part water, part soil. a fusion of that which is above and also below.
blinded by the brightness i retrain my eyes to see inside.
Friday, April 22, 2011
as the sky disappears
the day ends in solitude. the world stops spinning momentarily; long enough for me to catch my thoughts as they fall from the pinkening sky.
reflections soft and subtle. dribbling down my chin like proverbial peaches. my teeth chaff the stone.
my heart opens like a small spun string. something delicate in the fast fading light. weaving webs to catch dreams and other trinkets.
something within shifts and slides.
reflections soft and subtle. dribbling down my chin like proverbial peaches. my teeth chaff the stone.
my heart opens like a small spun string. something delicate in the fast fading light. weaving webs to catch dreams and other trinkets.
something within shifts and slides.
Monday, April 18, 2011
sweeping around tree tops
awash in radiance. curtains open on the clearest skies in months. the blue sweeping only upward. the stunning absence of grey and white. these days sprawl with small completions. afternoons melt into green grass contemplations; the light whisphers sweet nothings as it wraps around protusions and tips of trees. i practice the absence of fear. falling is easy when the sky is bright.
Monday, April 11, 2011
balanced on the wind
the wind balances on the sunlight. days awash in brightlit gardens and sprawling splashes of green. i close my eyes. and the weather takes me back to every other day spent in sweetened introspection. i chart my course between blades of grass and people i have been. contemplate the nature of timelines; staggered sowings and life cycles
Friday, April 8, 2011
nocturnal wonderings leave me out aloud
getting lost in the real world. list slam pavements and some morning i wake up and i'm not sure which version of myself i left in dreaming.
sliding into place like wooden nails; the tightest fit is the one that last the longest. i deep breathe through nocturnal wonderings and wake up still unsure if i've answered the right question.
every gulf is filled with water. between us is an amassing current. i sail small paper boats inscribed with messages across it while you sleep. hoping you can catch a glimpse of me on you're eyelids as you wake.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
on memories fast receeding
how to encapsulate all that transpired in that land that seethes history in the absence of memory? the contrast of palletes, always grey scale. the illumination through isolation and companionship. the flavours that burn so bright and so fast. the skyline that swallows the sky. the nights were my dreams were every combustible powder that lit up my face as they exploded into reality. the days where i wandered chest acheing with the distance between all that is familiar to me. the moments where outside turned inside and something dissolved into the shifting shapes of the city. the moments when failure was palpable and transcendence was a guest in my heart. the etching of another into your skin, untracable to everyone except yourself. the grinding revolt of all that you think being silenced in bright lit hotel rooms. the memories you grasp so tightly they disintergrate in the cabin pressure changes on the way home. the moment you strike your homeland again. the feeling we made it through this, and it might be ok.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
pre departure preperations
the week spins on it's axis. I check and recheck bags. securing memories, locked in paper, sealed with ink. all that i am contained in folds of cardboard. some so small they could be scraps.
i savour the last of the morning. the new day is about to begin
i savour the last of the morning. the new day is about to begin
Friday, March 4, 2011
shift
it even smells different.
the temperature dips as the horizon is swallowed by sprawls of grey. the town seems gentler; man mimicking meteorology. mimicking the sky.
my lists truncated. the slow swelling of cycles. looping up and over and down again.
a small piece of pie is enough to sustain me.
the temperature dips as the horizon is swallowed by sprawls of grey. the town seems gentler; man mimicking meteorology. mimicking the sky.
my lists truncated. the slow swelling of cycles. looping up and over and down again.
a small piece of pie is enough to sustain me.
Monday, February 28, 2011
no fault line
adjusting to the changing skylines and the sharpness of the light. these days the desert oscillates; coolness weaving between the warmth. we move in unison; the weather and I.
so many snapshots of this yo yo dancing; my heart feels cataclysmic. fine threads traced to the end of the rainbow. we arch across the sky in search of gold.
on reflection these things are seismic. each shock a sign of deeper shifts. somewhere there is an opening.
i peer gleefully into the abyss
so many snapshots of this yo yo dancing; my heart feels cataclysmic. fine threads traced to the end of the rainbow. we arch across the sky in search of gold.
on reflection these things are seismic. each shock a sign of deeper shifts. somewhere there is an opening.
i peer gleefully into the abyss
Friday, February 25, 2011
tick tock
the morning is an explosion. in the wreckage i find the safe where i'd hidden myself before the bombs went off.
a forgotten splinter resurfaces through skin. fingernails gouge deeper, resurrecting long buried wounds.
a forgotten splinter resurfaces through skin. fingernails gouge deeper, resurrecting long buried wounds.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
the next big thing
i grow sharp with teh air and the sky.
sashimi slicing through should dos. layered thinly on the pallete. savouring each small victory as it glides from hand to mouth.
late night waxing about the meta and micro leaves us smooth come morning light. i move between these circles until they overlap; tracing impressions of venn diagrams on my skin.
my lover returns past midnight.
my dreams find safety inh his skin.
sashimi slicing through should dos. layered thinly on the pallete. savouring each small victory as it glides from hand to mouth.
late night waxing about the meta and micro leaves us smooth come morning light. i move between these circles until they overlap; tracing impressions of venn diagrams on my skin.
my lover returns past midnight.
my dreams find safety inh his skin.
Monday, February 21, 2011
the day after the one before
the storm subdue. the earth dampened. the day begins with softer hues.
big sky dreaming, hemmed by ranges. my eyes search for a single ghost gum. marker on the horizon cut short by the undulation of ancient ranges. despite the elongated lists my heart stays steady, encased in this garden retreat.
despite the barrage of cataclysm and change my soul finds terra firma. washed up on the shores of reflex and reflection, i survey the terrain. this oasis is not an island but an extension of all that has come before.
there are no disconnections, no loose links in the chain. we can only understand ourselves in reverse. i capture these moments in pockets between muscle and bone.
despite my ruminations i am grateful for all that has transpired.
big sky dreaming, hemmed by ranges. my eyes search for a single ghost gum. marker on the horizon cut short by the undulation of ancient ranges. despite the elongated lists my heart stays steady, encased in this garden retreat.
despite the barrage of cataclysm and change my soul finds terra firma. washed up on the shores of reflex and reflection, i survey the terrain. this oasis is not an island but an extension of all that has come before.
there are no disconnections, no loose links in the chain. we can only understand ourselves in reverse. i capture these moments in pockets between muscle and bone.
despite my ruminations i am grateful for all that has transpired.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
life line
thoughts open to softest downpour. everything is washed clean.
my eyes tire of these green horizons. diasporic longing for red sand and clear skies. the paradox of wanting the rare to retain it's distant shimmer.
cracks turn to gaping chasms depite shovelloads of fertile soil and conversation. that which cures can also kill. and it's still early days....
i retreat. seek self protection.
the life line lays limp in the dust
my eyes tire of these green horizons. diasporic longing for red sand and clear skies. the paradox of wanting the rare to retain it's distant shimmer.
cracks turn to gaping chasms depite shovelloads of fertile soil and conversation. that which cures can also kill. and it's still early days....
i retreat. seek self protection.
the life line lays limp in the dust
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
each smaller than the one before
overwhelemed by big picture framing I find peace in the procession of small things.
that which was settles into the dust. that which is rises up from the water. these basic experiments in physics and focus must be repeated over and over again.
my heart yearns for it; the small peices of pie left like lights on a runway, illuminating the path to the sky. a steady remembrance like small household vigil; a quiet light lit in windows at night.
i am slowly working my way through these lists.
it is all that my heart can withstand.
that which was settles into the dust. that which is rises up from the water. these basic experiments in physics and focus must be repeated over and over again.
my heart yearns for it; the small peices of pie left like lights on a runway, illuminating the path to the sky. a steady remembrance like small household vigil; a quiet light lit in windows at night.
i am slowly working my way through these lists.
it is all that my heart can withstand.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
a soft place
peice by peice things find their right place. that which was turbulent finds equilibrium. my heart slows to a swagger. my compass corrects itself. the squall returns to the sea.
all things have their time. hands meeting and parting. small measurements of what has passed.
i am finding that soft place, where things become simple. where my heart need not worry for a while.
all things have their time. hands meeting and parting. small measurements of what has passed.
i am finding that soft place, where things become simple. where my heart need not worry for a while.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
on waves and shallows
i duck my head and allow the waves to wash over me.
emerging from the fog of days spent with breath held, mind racing through the tick tock of slumber. these old wounds resurface as scabs picked and peeled. i am fearful of repeatitions and regressions.
but the simple sunlight of clear sky eyes sweep over me just the same. feet first i slide into my subconcious and allow myself to drift downstream. carrying with me all that is not washed away; smooth skin and shining desire
emerging from the fog of days spent with breath held, mind racing through the tick tock of slumber. these old wounds resurface as scabs picked and peeled. i am fearful of repeatitions and regressions.
but the simple sunlight of clear sky eyes sweep over me just the same. feet first i slide into my subconcious and allow myself to drift downstream. carrying with me all that is not washed away; smooth skin and shining desire
Monday, January 31, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
full
we find silence in the first slender arc of gold. breathes held in it's steady ascent. the simple opulance of reflection shimmering through the atmosphere.
you said: it's because we're spinning so fast. and we don't even feel it.
some miracles are so large that we overlook them.
we sat for a long time on that ridge. painting dreams against the night sky. me scrawling at the dirt, trying to capture the outline of this moment so i wouldn't forget it.
you said: it's because we're spinning so fast. and we don't even feel it.
some miracles are so large that we overlook them.
we sat for a long time on that ridge. painting dreams against the night sky. me scrawling at the dirt, trying to capture the outline of this moment so i wouldn't forget it.
inside
I
untangling the threads i try to decipher exactly where our wires got crossed.
II
the heat drives us inwards. fanning ourselves lest flames appear. slipping meaning between the inhalations and exhalations of a distant star.
III
tea is a tonic for all things.
my emergent self reappears
untangling the threads i try to decipher exactly where our wires got crossed.
II
the heat drives us inwards. fanning ourselves lest flames appear. slipping meaning between the inhalations and exhalations of a distant star.
III
tea is a tonic for all things.
my emergent self reappears
Thursday, January 20, 2011
as it goes by
these days of sun drawn long like bows. aimed at parched earth and soaked skin.
in cool comfort, entwined in cotton sheets. outlines retraced and boundries dissolving. i am confronted with the best and worst versions of myself. suspended between past and future; the present becomes a gift.
these vunerable places. entangled in memories and dreamings and soft sighs and shallow breaths. i imbibe all of my ambitions. slowly sip the certain change and remind myself that all things shift. sometimes impercetibly, like the wearing down of mountain to sand.
in cool comfort, entwined in cotton sheets. outlines retraced and boundries dissolving. i am confronted with the best and worst versions of myself. suspended between past and future; the present becomes a gift.
these vunerable places. entangled in memories and dreamings and soft sighs and shallow breaths. i imbibe all of my ambitions. slowly sip the certain change and remind myself that all things shift. sometimes impercetibly, like the wearing down of mountain to sand.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
sifting
bathed in the skies of my childhood i revist old ground, sift through the remains of innocence. find something precious amidst the rubble.
redemption is a sweet sip and a small rush. a sudden current that signals the end of this and the beginning of that. i reclain small histories, greeting each one by name. content in the knowledge that they can't hurt me anymore.
redemption is a sweet sip and a small rush. a sudden current that signals the end of this and the beginning of that. i reclain small histories, greeting each one by name. content in the knowledge that they can't hurt me anymore.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
cleansed
the year starts by washing the town.
sudden swelling of water across streets and pavements. we barely make it back to our beds. sparkling in the soft light of the first day of the next marking. time neatly cordened demarcating then and now.
i go through all the cycles, ride waves in solitude. stircrazy with waiting for the beginning to transpire.
wandering across wide open spaces and saltwater. my dreaming proficent in thirsting and conjuring and longing and such.
sudden swelling of water across streets and pavements. we barely make it back to our beds. sparkling in the soft light of the first day of the next marking. time neatly cordened demarcating then and now.
i go through all the cycles, ride waves in solitude. stircrazy with waiting for the beginning to transpire.
wandering across wide open spaces and saltwater. my dreaming proficent in thirsting and conjuring and longing and such.
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