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
Monday, August 29, 2011
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
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