We are Ghosts
We are ghosts, trapped in a picture light pouring through like soft honey This is a slow burning, old books too We waited on the path to the tower near an old marker carved in stone and he stopped to … Continue reading We are Ghosts
Month: February 2022
Trapped in a Century
Where to begin in the silence This is not a fable No Aesop’s revelation Reveling in the peasant dances Fated this trail to be mine No others can claim it I long to walk in place to the past Maybe … Continue reading Trapped in a Century
Shown More Joy
Glitter, not gold all this water, centre cold what we fought for Where we walked How our feet hurt to see the snow falling for the first A triangle lit by the fire I wish I’d shown more joy Continue reading Shown More Joy
Laminae
First – no, not first leaves Nor soil, snow or earth. Soon. Soon limestone and water roughness is relative traffic lights are fantasies leaves gossip, layers without end springs chuckle layers without end impossible water floats layers without endWalk as … Continue reading Laminae
This Odd Little World
Whenat 16 I realised my father was an alcoholic, something settled into place. It was like the vague sense I was feeling that leaving Australia had stopped it feeling like home. Continue reading This Odd Little World
Wonder without Longing
This persistent exhalation Rise, grasp the detritus Wash hands, hear the inhale unwilling Death is a dream and a fear we dare not mention Every morning starts too early Some things you will never live again The way you drive … Continue reading Wonder without Longing
A Picnic with my Little Sister
I must have been around 10 years old, so my sister would have been around 4. I suggest we go for a picnic with our teddies. She is so excited, so we get our best 2 soft toys. Mine are … Continue reading A Picnic with my Little Sister
Algae in the Garden Haiku
And here came the flood Cleansed the stone for the new seed Stained my eyes to green Continue reading Algae in the Garden Haiku
Ashes Scatter
When the storm leaves, boulders weep Crickets wander, rain clouds sleep When the east wakes, flowers turn Rivers writhe, witches burn When the days die, ashes scatter Churches lean, forests matter Continue reading Ashes Scatter
Endorphin
Not quite a little death, just a space of emptiness voices are echoing here in the space above spaces Beech tree cathedral beneath the azure ceiling of summer soft dark earth between my lamented footprints and the emptiness of limestone … Continue reading Endorphin
Amethyst Revelations
Lace, strewn in the sky the first flush of rose and ice heads are thrumming, deer stalking the expressionless rows of maize and wheat The earth becomes a torrent of frozen crenellations I am not quite home A little apple … Continue reading Amethyst Revelations
Balloon and Ashes
If all you became is ashes and a ribbon in my hand, what part of you do I breathe in each day? My lungs are holding some small part of what you were. My memory is holding what you have … Continue reading Balloon and Ashes
The Gathering Dark
Words flung carelessly in fevers, a jumble of boulders, the mist rises around our feet like the backswash of a cold wave The grass is a tangled memory Three drops of blood from your shoulder Acid and tears, moving through … Continue reading The Gathering Dark
Disordered Sun
Unbidden, less than air Unguided, no maps, no compass I woke up from the soporific sounds of ordered points and empty ruins of language life floated in to visions Chairmen fell, duels were won Under this disordered Sun Continue reading Disordered Sun
Love Letter: To Walking, in Rain
Not knowing what is normal used to be a deficit in society. Of course nowadays the prevailing wisdom is that there is no such thing as normal anyway, but the salient point isn’t about semantics. You see, those of us with complex trauma don’t know what is acceptable. Continue reading Love Letter: To Walking, in Rain
Blaze of Obscurity 