Souls Submerged in the Soil

Let’s go exploring and see what we can forge,

Together we can find something bigger than ourselves,

maybe, together honey,

We’ll discover where we are, who we are, what we’re here for

The questions start flowing

as we start running,

Pouring through the empty towns,

and hollowed out streets,

over cobblestone paths and unfilled pot holes,

Trudging through the muddy grass,

Stepping across vast flourishing fields

the possibilities seem endless.

The sun beams onto our sweating faces,

the rain showers upon our skin, dampening our clothes, washing away the day’s whims

The stars glimmer, the moonlight floods the trees,

with their intricate branches,

wrinkled bark and crumpled leaves,

persistent weeds grab and cradle the roots of the structure as it persists.

We nest in the depths of the darkness,

the mysteries remain,

the curiosity still lingers,

awaiting another day of exploration,

we’ll just stay here for the night,

burrowing in each others’ arms,

entangled in our insatiable desires and inquisitive minds

to experience it all.

Taking it Easy

No longer will we fear the future
or wish for the could haves
cause we’re still right here,
we’ve still got our youth,
no liabilities, no constraints

only our self imposed time frames and to-do-lists holding us back,
creating schedules, sculpting routines,
that was us speeding through life
in one straight line that seemed the only way forward
dropped the peripherals,
the variety too.
We forgot how to live,
when we were too busy chasing an unreasonable dream

Makes me wonder, though,
was it a dream or just a fear?

Now we’re living
carefree, taking it slow,
stopping, reflecting,
reaping the benefits as we sew…

From a distance (symmetry)

I turned around
And saw you there
Sitting by the vines 
Unaware
You were smiling and beaming 
Busy and free
You probably don’t realise
You probably don’t care
Lost in a world of experimental genesis
engulfed in a passion of musical elegance
So confounding 
So amusing

As I stand over here
I feel a heaviness come over me
my feet begin to sink in the ground beneath,
All of a sudden you’re out of reach
And I’m still right here, struggling to breathe
I tug and tear at my ankles
But my feet won’t move
Stuck in cement, in the heavy air
Just to watch you flourish and thrive 
Without me there

The cycle

Maybe in a short while
You’ll wake up and see everything renewed
Water dripping off
fresh flower petals 
With bright bursting colours,
Elegant and wild,
Uncertain and hypnotic.
The path the water flows is it’s own creation,
No one knows the forgotten sheath 
It’s all kept tight and packed in 
to bring life 
Building the stream
that the sky replenished
that the sun warmed
And the moon oversaw 
Splash and trickle, drop and dribble
As a young boy stomps through the residual puddles
Thrashing and racing, challenging the will of nature,
As it is nature fighting itself 

Internal Freedom

There’s something about curiosity that I find irresistible,
There’s something charming in vulnerability
To leave oneself open
And to be free
To run wild, back to our origins,
Rough beginnings are better than crippling fears, cause at least you started, and you’ve gotta start somewhere
You can only fight yourself for so long, soon the mask will begin to wear and disintegrate
All you’ll be left with is an unpolished, raucous reality
What will you do then,
Will you have anything? will you recognise reality, or will you slip into falsity?

Your wild side
Is found in that spinning thought that always comes back,
Late at night, midway through a meeting, a class, a conversation,
Those still random moments that are peppered through your day,
That wild dream, that’s taking a back seat in the road of life, sometimes it peeps its head into the front seat
just to remind the driver of their destined path that desires to be awakened

Vancouver Rising

Large harbours
On vast lakes
Carrier vessels and sail boats
Fog and rain
As each morning
Casts a renewed gaze
On those tall green trees
Go, reach for them
Pull them in
Draw them closer, closer in
Ruffle the leaves and savour the scent
Carry on higher, steeper, further
Look from atop the entangled branches
Upon the lake and the vessels in the harbour
Make peace with the stories and generations passed
Find calm amongst the chaos of the unpredictable forest
Find truth within the feet that take you through these adventures
For even if your feet do nothing but resting, find gratitude in the mind that lets you imagine.

shorts

I found the opening sequences of some short stories on my phone from February of this year, so i thought I’d share just one for now…

The fillings within the crevices

The young woman drew her coat off the back of the steel chair and proceeded to push the chair under the table, flicked her freshly curled hair behind her shoulders, snatched her handbag from the floor and left the restaurant as fast as she could. A gust of cool air breathed through the restaurant and tingled down his spine.

Skidding of car brakes, the honking of car horns, fade into the open air as the glass door wedges shut.

The whole while, the man’s gaze fixed on the half-empty glasses of red wine on the table.
He had managed to phase out the judging silence of the surrounding tables. The tables began to merge closer toward him, closing him into a pervasive, inescapable enclosure.

“What did I…” he sighed under his breath, he sat and stared at the glasses for seconds, minutes longer. They too began to merge into one. The entire room started to spin, and soon became a blur of conjoined tables, echoing chatter, the clinking of glasses and the scraping of metal against ceramic screeched in his ears, closing him inside a labyrinthine enclosure.

* * *

The clink of wine glasses and the splash of water hitting a dry metal sink woke him. He slowly sat up on the couch, and pulled the duck feather duvet to the fly of his black trousers. He rubbed his eyes and peered around the corner from where he was sitting in the lounge room of an unfamiliar apartment.

There, in the kitchen, he saw a petite, voluptuous woman, no more than 25, he could tell by the fluidity of her movement, her shiny blonde ponytail and her sunflower-printed navy-blue dress which moved swiftly with her as she washed dishes and cups, humming to vague, soft jazz-saxophone playing on a radio.

He turned back around and patted his pant pockets for his wallet and phone. They were just visible, wedged between a crinkled copy of the age and a full glass of water placed on a nearby coffee table.