dismembering embers

fading embers disperse into the night sky
a forgotten fire
in the cold light,
the ash conceals
the words strewn across
the exploded lights
of the speckled sky,
the way we read our insides
through joining the dots in the dark,
a guided imitation of our minds,
as we dance our pains and paint our sights
to bring the fire within back to life,
the cold returns,
the day winds and curls to nothingness,
this is when we come to life,
when we ignite ourselves
surrounded by the death of
what we once created,
another sum of atoms implodes,
burns through the night,
the fire inside always burns for something,
we unearth what’s buried inside
to feed the furnace,
to cast shadows,
to share our light.

Sewing trails of love into fertile soil

Hey, I see a universe in you
– and together we be a multiverse

It’s like all the clocks in the world stop ticking,
every grain of sand turns to glass,
and the sun and the moon blink at each other just for a moment,

When I close my eyes and think of you,
I envision these endless plains of calm,
forests full of library shelves
and seashores where every gain of sand
is a whisper of kindness.

I daydream about us and road trips. Beach picnics. Spoken word. Talking late. Staying up. Laying down. Holding fast. Fucking slowly. Feeling rainforest rain on our brows. Giving each other reasons to raise them.

Ever noticed that butterflies are considered beautiful yet
moths are considered terrifying
but the butterflies you fill my stomach with
scare me more than any number of moths flitting toward a light ever could,

what I’ve found in myself for you,
is a kind of undoubtable love.
It just is. It’s just there. No name. No conditions.
No metaphors or comparisons.
Just, love.

I know you have to go away,
but while you’re still here I really want to do my best to help make what we share so full of fun and good memories, growth and happiness.

Maybe it’s the echo of a heart shattering in an empty hallway,
the memory of a loved one’s last embrace
or the taste of a lover’s last kiss,

catching passed glimpses of life before it’s lost
reminds us we can step inside them again
when we’re feeling lost,
nothing disappears
things just dissipate to infuse the world around us,
some things linger on

take the sleeve of my jacket
tuck it away, in your pocket,
feel my warmth on your skin
when I’m no longer around,
taste my kiss just a little while longer,
I promise I’ll keep you warm inside
even if it means we don’t share the same the same ground

Dissolving sandcastles

he said it hurts me too, yet
why am I the one always crying in front of you,
he said he cries in private, why
must I always be the one whose knees weaken and eyes glimmer
at your alter
I pray to you
and it’s not healthy,
weaning off you
your love is the most difficult substance to ease off of
teacherous lips, shh
just for a second,
I want to kiss you but it stings like poison nettle
lingers, flickers but doesn’t extinguish,
burning, burning,
gets easier with time and distance, or so I keep repeating,
altered conversation, less affection,
this is good, this is painful,
those tender almonds peer into my oceans
I can’t contain the waves convulsing inside me,
I can’t keep building sandcastles without moats, around me
the grandiose structures keep dissolving,
he clasps my hand in his,
finger tips caressing my aching ligaments,
your pure feelings are tainted by my confusion
I think I love you but how can I be sure this is not another of my illusions,
to grasp onto you is to grasp onto the thing I can never hold onto,
we can’t hold onto ideas, it’s just that
sometimes we think we can —
when those ideas take form, a light beam projecting onto foreign flesh
we get excited and forget
what we see is what we feel,
our deepest desires manifest and we follow them like breadcrumbs leading to a fantastical house
but you are not home and I must learn to crawl out of your inferno
before our illusions swallow us whole,
I think I love you but
how can I be so sure that your sweetness isn’t tainted by loneliness,
I want to hold your hand when we walk along the promenade,
I want to link arms as we wander and discuss the stars
we’ve gone too far
merged our hearts
before we allowed our minds to entangle in a rapture of seeing beyond our own lenses
of wanting
life to be simpler than it ever could become
without the rapture of romance I finally see you
I’m starting to understand what you are, who you are becoming,
it took us more months than we’d like to admit to
scrub the sand from our eyes and blink into clarity,
disparate continents and tired thumbs
phone calls and text messages mask
the nuances,
can’t be technologically translated,
no tonal button that erases misinterpretation
you must say what you mean
or be done with it,
back in your arms
your laughter echoes as if it’s escaping shackles and chambers,
the curvature of your back to your butt makes me want to reach out and touch you
yet our separation separates our forms of expression
it hurts not to kiss you
but it would hurt more to reduce this bond we are reconfiguring
into a breath,
not now
maybe someday
I’ll feel your lips on mine and it’ll taste like honeydew and rosewater
like it did in the beginning

From the roots of the grass

Melbourne is my home,

at least for now,

I’m a full-time day dreamer

with my feet firmly planted on this ground,

still a little all over the place,

a little off kilter,

I like a place that has secrets and hidden treasures

in unknown corners,

and people that smile as they walk by

and strangers that are down for deep conversations

and old friends that get you without having to explain yourself,

and flings that unfurl in any season,

and that long-term lover that weaves in and out of your years as you do through theirs,

Sunsets by the beach

Trams that screech

Bustling streets

Rainbow dresses

girls with sleeves

boys with long hair, short hair, no hair, dont care,

I like it when taboos juxtapose the main streets,

and renowned musicians busk on the streets

where busy-ness people stop and watch in awe,

I live for spontaneous adventures,

Climbing cranes

as high as six-storey buildings

in the forbidden night hours,

Sunset walks home from work,

Green-grass and flower-filled parks,

Slamming our poems in attic-bars

and basement studios

and dance halls

and friends’ backyards,

Idea-driven discussions

and drinking the syrup of imagination,

Stretching into downward dog,

Swimming laps before breakfast,

Sipping Sailor Jerry’s and ginger-ale,

while watching a live J Dilla rendition in a private bar from a public balcony,

To the people who squat under abandoned roofs

and make music

and drawings

and jewellery

and graffiti art,

to those who run second-hand bookstores and public libraries

and public art installations,

Laneway markets and local artists,

Conscious local businesses

and local publishers,

To those who work from the roots of the grass,

and those who bloom from the seedlings they plant,

People who bolt swings made from an abandoned fire hose to the ceiling of a ramshackle warehouse,

People that volunteer for a cause they care about,

People that are helping the people on the streets,

People that are kind

and generous

and playful

and adventurous,

walking by sunflowers sprouting from communal gardens

built for those who don’t have a garden of their own,

People who volunteer to share their skills and wisdom

at cafes and bike sheds,

universities and libraries,

People that give hope

and support

and patience,

To the talented dreamers

with the perseverance of Pharlap,

To the people that sustain legacies,

To the sun worshippers,

and those who sleep in,

To those with poor time-management

and those who are well-organised,

To those who work 80-hour-weeks

and those who are unemployed but are working on their dreams,

and to those who juggle both,

To those who educate themselves,

To those who’ve found their niche

and those who are still looking,

To those who feel like they don’t belong anywhere,

I promise

One day

You will find


And those who pioneer pockets of the community,

To the immigrants, travellers, refugees, interstate movers, endless nomads, the wanderers and the gypsies and those who grew up here,

This city is a beaming beacon that pulls you in,

kisses your forehead

and gives you a platform to be who you’ve always been.