Breeze

Whenever you feel outta control of your life
take a step back,
look beyond yourself,
beyond your life,
the footsteps you’ve already traversed,
the falling eyelashes, dead skin, nail clippings and stray hairs,
the time, the time,
don’t try to control the day by day,
just flow with the natural progression of everything,
it’s easy to get caught up
in the small intricacies of the day to day
so sway,
the way the tide caresses the shore
stray,
the way the mind merges and drifts through the hand

Flight Of The Crane

A crumpled crane drifting
along the canal
with too many puncture wounds
sinks, almost drowns,
all it takes is just one small child or child-like mind
to resuscitate the deflated body,
to breathe an air of their soul into this wilting vessel,
as to glide above the water once again
and release all the things left unsaid,
to soar across the cloud trails and convey the weight of the world
that us conscious beings find so difficult to share

Stitchwork

I’m letting things stick that shouldn’t, like chewing gum clinging to the bottom of a shoe,
you can never quite pull off all the remnants,
the remains harden until they become part of the shoe,
the way these thoughts have been residing in my brain since I woke,
they’re going stale in here and it’s well past noon,
there’s a clock ticking in my peripheral vision
it spits out an old familiar tune
every 15 minutes,
clockwork makes us look backwards, to where we’ve been, who we’ve been,
takes me back to my childhood home in Tasmania,
situated diagonal from the town clock tower,
resounding chimes ring through my ear drums as I climb the attic ladder
dolls, and tent parts and old letters,
fading family photos and pre-school paintings, tucked in the corners, spilling into the doorway,
makes you look at the way
some things stay but they shouldn’t,
the way the past comes to haunt us
when we don’t dispose of the palpable,
as when memories stay in the foreground, the (rubbish) tip
can’t process them and reuse them somewhere more fruitful

We Are You, You Are We

let’s pick the stitches from our chests,
unthread the tightly packed sufferring
from our tired hearts,
it’s alright to unleash the pain,
spread your seeds,
i’ll spread mine
lets grow a shared garden,

i can hear that woodpecker chipping away
at your instincts
piece by piece
until your shadow no longer resembles you
a crammed cage of countless other people
screaming and crying
echoing through the empty corridors that lead to a dead-end,
lets put a stop to this suffocating madness,
grasp my out-reaching hand,
we can’t change the past but we can pave a different future,
let’s build in leaps
instead of ripping up crossed paths in backward steps

let it be your heartbeat,
all i can feel is the throbbing heartbeats of scattered souls
inside your chest,

fleeing souls from a bombing of the charlie Hedbo publishing house,
nous ne sommes pas paris
we are of the world
and we cannot contain the pain,

we are the soldiers blocking ISIS along the Turkish border,
we are the innocent Turkish history professor locked up and tortured by his own government for “security measures”

we are the fleeing children
screaming out of the rubble in Syria and Iran,
we are the lost brothers and sisters,
the distressed mothers and fathers,
we are the unborn babies the world will never meet,

we are the starving and poor citizens of North Korea,
neglected by their self-appointed God
who’s riding the waves of nepitism and priveledge
into a frightful self-interested dissent.

we are the acid-burned girl running from her villiage in Vietnam,
we are the American soldier who doesn’t know what he’s fighting for anymore,
the longing girlfriend trying to get a job,
and the coiled foetus that will be born into heedless tragedy,

we are the dead Syrian child washed up near Australian shores,
the displaced souls on Manus and Christmas islands
battered and bruised from hearing too many “no’s”
seeking respite in the darkness
away from power-fuelled guards,

we are the uneducated scapegoats
water tortured and treated like dogs in Gauntanamo Bay,
we are the mourning, fear-driven officers that dehumanised them,

we are the fearful,
the confused.
we are the constantly searching wanderers trying to find the unconscious truth,

we are all the missing and shot-down aeroplanes of 2014
just trying to find our way home.

Home is inside you

Stop giving a damn what people think of you,

keep on living,
thrive through the smog,
wipe your windshields
and throw away the rag,

you don’t need to be reminded of your
pre-dated self-hatred,
let it remain in the past
let it suffocate and dissipate in the corners of no return
as you roll past the punches
you throw at yourself,

better things are to come,
they have so far surpassed the bad,
so why are you so sure that the best has already transpired,
you can jump from that cloud,
(you’ve just got to allow yourself)
the ground isn’t as hard
as it looks from afar,

you’re near to finding
a place of your own,
a place to call home
inside your own mind

a place where
you’ll never feel alone,
or misguided
or out of place,
where any external circumstance
becomes
a garden you can water
with your inner thoughts

stay away from those
who make you feel unwanted
and unnecessary,
only you can validate
your own existence,
be free from attachment and expectation,

don’t let the rips in your wings hold you down
from fluttering through the wonderland in your mind,
you were torn apart simply to
make room for growth and
deeper nourishment,
to breathe and nestle amongst all the other wonderful worlds around you

seamless imprints

I imprinted your heart onto my mind
so that I’d be able to reach inside my thoughts,
to hold your hand in mine,
a souvenir from where I left off,

I knew a while back that I was a nomadic spirit
so I zipped up my spinal chord,
fastened the lock,
kept all the necessary documents bunched in a stack,
let the unavoidable frivolities spill between rough folds and loose sheets,
and I was off,

I trace your fingerprint patterns onto my flesh
on the nights I can’t sleep,
I’m far from you,
on the other side,
trying to gain perspective,

I made the choice to part from this place
when we were just getting started,
sometimes that thought makes me want to bury my head
beneath all the pillows and blankets
and never return to the sunlight,
thank you for teaching me how to tell myself the truth,
instead of digging,

when I see you writhing in pain or unable to get up off the floor when your legs give way
it makes me want to gather all of your bones and cradle them in my arms and call it home,
wrap your aching limbs in silk sheets
held together with Sunday-market-honey,
makes the mornings taste sweeter,

your frustration in those yawns of 48-sleepless-hours for the third time in one month alone
makes me wish I could exchange a couple of those hours with you,
maybe I’d be able to properly learn the ukulele
within a reasonable time period,

lately this head has been spinning,
tabletop tilt
relentless mulling,
around and round and round
into trails of dust in the stillness between us
I just want to pull you in closer yet,

you’ve got gentleness interwoven between your fingers
folding into me when you hold me,
you always seem to know when there’s an earthquake culminating in my system
long before I start trembling or yelping,
you’ve wiped tears from my cheeks,
tucked my hair behind my ears,
breathed deeply with me when choking felt like the only possibility,
cuddles on the couch watching avatar feels like magic,
drifting off to sleep on Appa’s back,

I can feel your marshmallow lips draw away from mine still,

let me taste your electricity,

everything ties together,
seamlessly

Crashing into Clouds

Somebody! Sound the alarm bell
ring it twice, if you will,

please sir,
it’s an emergency,
I’m falling,
into this heart pumping, vein pulsing,
sweaty palms kinda, slipping
into this requiem
weaving between sleeping and waking
this limbo, in-between place
where the ghosts of my past go to contemplate their next attack,

please madame,
I’ve lost my grip and the ground is sinking beneath me,
this falling is relentless
catching wind
clinging to dust,
this falling is getting heavy,
don’t think I can catch myself,

feet tucked in, hmmph,
nope, not that,
arms spread like wings, aahhh, oh wait no, oh no, definitely not that,

Thump!

okay, ground, is that you?
Is there anyone around, I’m confused

I need to keep this vehicle focused
straight ahead I’ll be steering,
the gasometer reads close to zero
and there are winding roads ahead,
I uh don’t think I can surpass this road block up ahead,

hey! You over there,
have you got anything to ease the latitude
Something to slow this thing down,
I just need something to steady the beat,

okay so,
I cut off the phone line,
tried suffocating the valve,
stopped visiting that part of town,
cut my hair short,
dyed it purple and green and blonde,
tried closing my eyes
without seeing your face under the lids,
but you’re standing there, vivid,
Your eyes like darts, piercing my flesh,
I’ve tried all of these things
but every time I come close to a beautiful thing
I drown in it, it suffocates me, I smother it’s freshness, it withers me,

my heart is still cascading through the clouds
while I grind through the gravel,
missing the clear roads before me
and the petrol station ahead,
the gasometer keeps beep beep beeping,
pings of red light relentlessly blinking,

to no avail, this misguided heart keeps pulling and drawing,
the clouds merge and diverge
morning and night

Growing gardens in the dark corners of our minds

my brain is contorting into all kinds of odd shapes,

distorting all of my fears into leering shadows,

fogging up the rear windows,

twisting innocent intentions in dark dimensions,

the windscreen is cracking under the harsh breaths of the tired sky,

everybody is leaving this town,
and soon, so will I,

we grow gardens in our veins to weed out
the confusions that reside in our minds,

we flush out the litter, one flower at a time,

don’t succumb to the pain,
don’t succumb to the pain,

we plant trees in our lungs
so that we can breathe clearly through the storms,

tear off leaves on the hardest days
as to shield us from stray shrapnel

I am yet to strike that balance
between lightness and casting heavy shadows

I am yet to poke that focal point that pins the centre of my mind to
the centre of the bulls eye on the dart board,

that settles all the minor confusions
and cancels out the long shot darts

protruding into the walls and the clasps of frames

penetrating the picture,
puncturing the image,

splintering into the perfect visage,

tearing open the finely crafted package to
unveil the raw material inside,

don’t shy away,
don’t shy away,

let’s scatter fallen petals through our bones,
infuse their essence into our souls

Talking to the sky

We’re all a little broken,
a little ripped open,
it’s the way the universe works
pulling us apart in order to expand us and explore all the facets of our hearts,

we’re not here to accommodate others,
we’re here to come to an understanding of ourselves
by filling all the gaps within us with
kintsukoroi drops of golden life and joy,

it’s not up to others to decide
what nectar we suckle on,
we cannot expect any other
but ourselves
to heal our wounds,
any injury done unto us
is the universe communicating with you
to tell you that it’s time to grow,
to expand to grander things

Mind Maps

I will never sit steady upon the dilapidating pedestal
of a half-real, memory-contaminated human
that is no longer here,
made of that tall stool you placed in the palace of your mind,

I’ll never be enough of something
and too much of another
to ever fit into the mold of her,
who came before every other,

I can’t be her, I can’t compensate for your loss,
I can’t replace the gaping wound of her passing
that you can never quench,

I can’t fill the tiresome cracks, symptomatic of the crumbling,

I can’t be what you want me to be
because it has already existed
and that human shaped combination
is something that can’t and shouldn’t be replicated,

it hurts to be in love with someone that’s pining over a dead girl,
ten years in the aching,

it hurts, to see one hurting and know the only thing to cork the sorrow
is six-feet-underground,

it is a very disconcerting feeling to be comforted by
the very person that caused you the pain,

my mind hijacked from the moment upon waking today,
filled with ringing thought sirens
signalling in too many (mis)directions,
consuming all the thoughts that keep me present in my path,
automated conversation making
my thoughts stuck on repeat,
but fixated on a record that is not here,
but there,
trapped inside sound bites of your mind-maps