Across the tides

We’ve all got burning desires

and passions

and unfulfilled curiosities,

We’re all trying to stay afloat

in our own little boats,

and sometimes the tides

don’t turn in our favour

and we confuse the direction of the wind

With the undercurrent.

From within

every little boat

the world turns on a different angle,

a different scope,

a different depth

to thy neighbour,

from a far away vessel

my tacks and pace

may seem irrational,

back to front,

unpredictable,

but from over here,

the dissonance

echoes

at a different frequency

to your inner-nestled voice,

Here the heart speaks louder than the head,

so I often carve up unsettling territory,

reminding me that everybody

is navigating this vascular connection,

to find cohesion in the external ocean

the currents

and strategies

and gut-gurgling sensations

arise

pulsing through our bodies

as we sail across the tides,

Busy lives/

Too much time,

Paradox is what makes up a full life,

You decide

where your focus resides,

The helm is yours.

Creaks in the floorboards

Oh but to shudder at the hands of a lover

Is no fun

No no no

It’s no fun

Mmm and they say she’s oh so clever

Got some charm, keenness about her

It’s alright,

They keep proclaiming

She’s alright,

Yeah he’s alright,

So let them keep on livin’

Don’t intrude on others’ business

She’s alright,

Just keep dancin’ in that darkened corner

She’s just fine,

Keep on peeling those potatoes

and tossing that great salad

Keep on sending out those letters

Telling everyone about

How bright

How kind,

How wonderful it is

to be around her,

Don’t let them see the secrets

Buried deep beneath the floorboards,

They’re alright

We’re all just fine,

Quit losing sleep over this duo

It’s their battle

We shall not intrude, no

Regardless of what we hear or see, no

She’ll be alright,

Look at her beaming,

Great big grin

look, now they’re kissing,

They’re aright

They’re just fine

A Glimpse

There’s a song that rings,

Probably from the bottom of the ocean,

Like a far away tanker, it hums

As if it knows what’s beneath the black night-ocean,

The tones echo and fade

And return

Pounding in my chest,

At the wake of my breast,

Bass tremors

Bring forth rubble

By my feet

Below my field of vision,

The dust lingers

Leaving a visible trace

of that forlorn dream

that my hopes had

of escaping,

Nothing but remnants

now fused forever to the darkness,

Alas alas

I may find some new wonder,

I stare into the sea floor

As the smooth gelatine-water rises to my ankles

Then washes to my feet

Back and forth

Back and forth

Caressing every tiny bone,

Dancing between my toes,

Reminds me that

that’s the way

it’s always been,

Always need

Another note to make a rhythm,

Another word to finish a sentence,

Another breath the keep on living,

Another step to keep on moving,

So why not another hope

to keep on floating?

Just to see 

“One wants to treat the loneliness while strengthening the solitude”
– Edward Tick

I have a gaping hole in my heart

and I don’t know how to fill it,

the emptiness swallows me whole,

and the darkness engulfs me,

I writhe in pain,

Amongst this unforgiving wrath

that leaves me gasping for air,

That creeps into my nightmares

and visits my daydreams,

To ruminate is to extrapolate –

But sometimes it helps,

If it leads to an to open heart

Where the demons pour out

and fizzle under the light,

See this overbearing heart needs to heal

afar from the darkness of uncaressed thoughts,

So don’t be afraid

To see

Blood spilling upon this floor,

A cracked-open skull,

And this pulled-apart

unwholesome heart

Throbbing beside this limp vessel,

It’s just me trying to piece together my innards

Just to see

Just to see

if I can build something worth keeping whole

Tired Heart

You probably don’t know this but
I absorbed everything you said
that night we nestled into some stranger’s couch,
It went like this…

I know you think about it
on those solitary train rides
when you forget to pack a book
and your phone’s on 5 per cent,

I know, you dream about it
when you’re sleeping,

I know you write poetry about it
then crumple every page and throw it in the bin,

I know, because I’ve seen
that wandering stare you do,
because you look at the floor instead of what’s in front of you,

I know,
because when I look at you,
I see someone I love falling into the abyss of brokenness

with a flickering

Death. Wish.

But I also know that you want to exist

’cause you’re not yet done with what may come next,

I know, you just want the darkness to forever fade away
but your attention is askew,
you need the dark to see the light,

So it’s no use pertaining to someone else’s life,

There’s always going to be elusive spiders that creep into the mind,
You’re trapped in this shell for life
and you were never meant
to be chasing
Someone else’s path,

You were redirected from the many roads
You’ve tried to tend
because you abandoned your own,
and I know this because I’ve always been there

To see you tire your heart out
and also to see you bloom.

Self-forgiveness is a game of tug o’ war

  
My heart aches for

Your beautiful soul

‘Cause you’re going through hell

and yet you persist,

With humour and zeal

even when you’re up

against strong opposition,

So much pain crammed

and locked in your heart,

Mostly to protect those who trespassed against you,

Rather than to resuscitate yourself, 

It hangs over me, so heavy,

That then it was I

that became the main source of your pain,

The night I became the world’s worst best-friend.

Somehow you forgave me,

Well,

At least that’s what you said.

Got Jeff Tweedy on my stereo,

Singing broken-hearted lullabies

that ring at the door of my house,

Can you hear it,

from your side of town?

There’s so much I wish I could take back,

‘Cause I knew what’d been going down

around us,

Preceding the storm that hit

the night

I swallowed my pride and coughed it up on that boy’s bed,

In front of you,

and pressured you to come along,

Yeah you were right there beside us

And yet we carried on,

Neglecting the fact

That you just needed my shoulder

To rest your muddled head upon

and my ears to listen 

to you process life

when you were feeling less than alright,

Now I’m eternally hoping

that you’re as okay as you say. 

Inside these crumbling walls

Crying out for some kind of God

That doesn’t exist yet,

Lying here

Crumpled and lifeless 

On the bathroom floor,

Peel me away from myself

So that I can extract 

This overbearing consciousness 

from my every waking breath,

Built these walls and this sink

And these tiles

Upon sunken soil,

Beaneath a crumbling roof,

And painted it white and blue

And called it home

To house the disruptive reasoning,

Slammed a sledgehammer 

Into the foundations

And started anew,

Without consulting or consolidating any other soul,

Slammed down a padlock,

Secured the scope

and called it home,

To wash and flush

My tainted soul

Of the sins of an unsure mind

That trips into puddles

Of self-contaminated riddles

That I can never seem to clean and dry off

Thanks For The Consent

Politicians got us fearing who we are,

telling us who we can love –

and who we can’t

progressing institutionalised crimes

while they coerce the news-verse

telling us about taxes and the stock market

and Abbott says he’s “feeling threatened”

by our confusing sexual tastes,

and the gender of the gender of the person

we take an interest in.

J-Bishop throws in her two cents as if the LGBT

community is waiting for her consent,

just another political maneuver

talking about the lives of others

for their own rise,

reporters swallowing the words

and churning ’em out

as front-page headlines,

what kind of progress does that provide?

Nothing.

This isn’t a Rugrats plot line

where Suzie reclaims justice

and destablises Angelica’s lies.

Real life isn’t so simple,

a cycle we can’t seem to rattle,

Abbott talking about tradition

as if we’re all going to hell,

keeping a stronghold on a patriarchal-field,

that unsettling wink-gate,

laughing at the so-called sins

borne out of the big guys’ own cycle,

laughing at the very way,

the people that don’t have a say

are trying to pay

for the things the politicians regulate,

Don’t talk about sex,

if you’re not willing to hear of

all the many contexts that it affects,

that simple, single – wink,

en-massed a range of riddles,

and we ask,

what should we be sacrificing,

to avoid the jobs your sacred book despises,

“food, electricity, gifts for christmas, firewood,

or should we all just die and get outta your way?

should we just repress our ways

and follow your confined field of vision,

just so that you do not feel threatened?

Just to uphold an archaic cookie-cutter society,

Repressed and numb,

cut-off and confused.

Heavy Cloaks

“When another person makes you suffer, it is because they suffer deeply within theirselves, and their suffering is spilling over. They do not need punishment; they need help. That is the message they are sending.” – Thich Naht Hahn

*

There are some things
I’d like to tell you,
and I wish you could hear these words

for every ligament of yours that ever ached,
mine echoed every break,

living side by side with a distorted mirror poised between us,
your anger
reflected mine,
my fear
reflected yours,

we tried to shatter the mirror from opposite sides,
we thought we could elude the thought-demons inside our minds,
but we couldn’t suffocate them beneath false smiles,

you grew up being told to never cry or shout in public
so you stowed it all away, thinking you were so brave.

and I, I was so afraid of being labelled a drama queen
or a vixen with a will to corrupt and distract men,
so I stowed it all away and called it composure.

We never fully articulated
the struggles you and I shared
lurking inside our souls, gnashing their teeth between our eyes,

and when the darkness enshrouded all our outlets
we were both so ashamed,
so we wanted to vanish
but we didn’t want to die,
to just cease to exist every once in a while,

unleashing the beasts only behind closed doors
with the lights dimmed… low.

Broken lamps,
remote controls,
torn shirts and broken promises,

I’m sorry, it’ll be different, tomorrow, I love you, I love you, I love you, I hate you, I love you,

So instead of disappearing,
we pretended our demons weren’t there,
but they followed us like shadows
wrapping around our shoulders like cloaks,

too heavy to tear off,
only unlatching the clasp of their claws
in our sleep,

where they hung on the door,
facing us,
crowding us in,
awaiting dawn,

and I know it didn’t matter
what company you kept beside you
or who you pushed away,

’cause sometimes I feel the same way,

the cloaks began to carry us
and navigated the world in our stride,
kept us from admitting we couldn’t bare the weight,
kept us from turning the mirror back to ourselves,

and sadly, from time to time,
it was the people, not the demons that we pushed aside.

This Pervasive Shadow

What makes me quiver

Is what makes me eager

Is what keeps the bats hanging from the ceiling of my mind

The cobwebs clench onto the unspoken thoughts

The spiders scatter across unconscious motivators

I refuse to learn of who I am

For I am scared that the true soul behind the gleaming steel mask is a pathetic sparrow with broken wings

Who cannot even pretend to be able to fly

Unlike my artificial wings I strap on every morning

Pretending I’m fine

Pretending each step as I go into flight isn’t like trudging through mud

But this mask is a straight jacket

I strap onto myself

That entraps the struggle;

The internal wrestling match I have with myself.

I don’t want to be a hassle,

I have all the luxuries and privileges a 21st century kid could ever want,

So for me to struggle day after day

From a consuming worry

That pervades the space I take

That distracts me from the present

That drags me under the past

That shakes the ground beneath me

Leaving cracks before each step,

Is foolish,

To be sad

To be scared

To be frustrated about things that only exist in my head,

But it’s not as simple as readjusting my focus

It isn’t as easy as putting on a clean shirt and walking out the door

But it is because I have access to these very things,

It is because there are so many people who don’t,

That I

Cannot validate my pain

Yet I still feel it,

It suffocates me the way cold air down your back makes you shudder,

It is because I tell myself that I do not have the right to feel the way I do that it consumes me.

Each night,

And I can’t sleep,

Dark dreams,

Wake in sweat,

St-st-stuttered speech,

Hidden opinions,

Deluded hopes.