Archive | February, 2011

stones (5 Feb 2011)

23 Feb

The stones moved into my eyes
I stared and stared
until I stared back at myself
a mixture of hazel and confusion
iris darkly rimmed
like a winter moon
pupil darkly large
learning

I stared and stared
into a night’s harbour
folded with hills
and one lamp sprang forth
outing all the shadows, one lamp
darkness could not claim
an iris shining

what gleamed around my face
what golden light circled me
what radiance filled me
my form super-imposed
light sculpting light
my mirage taking form
into the tricks of night

this hill (5 Feb 2011)

23 Feb

this hill juts out like a gumboot
among sandshoes
splashing into the bay as a child
dances in puddles

I am all by my self up here
over looking many memories
and tides
I feel so held together

I am in the outcrop of trees
and in the northerly swirl of sea gulls
they track past at eye level
and lift like a slippery thought

I have the windows closed
the memories tap quietly

one animal (5 Feb 2011)

23 Feb

he was lying on the couch
a bolster under his knees
she was straddled on top
like a baby wrapped to his mother’s heart

they were resting
maybe she was crying
into the nap of his neck
but in there I saw an effortless

comfort
collapsed and held in the same gesture
they were the weave of one body
they lay merged before passion

resting as a union of mind
I walked past
and my cells reached out
into that empty

longing

for the intimacy under my body
for my body to collide
in that way, to stop
and swallow his heartbeat

as milk
to feel our bellies
breathing as one animal
breathing as one animal

I felt the gap
the missing breath of my own
passion
and the animal that I am

searching
for we have not breathed as one

we have not bled
as one animal

welcome the whale (20 Jan 2011)

22 Feb

It’s fast, the rhythm jaunty
there’s nothing foreign in it
but I can’t breathe
like my lungs are craving
complete submersion

and I am drowning, as a fish drowns
  in air
the pulse of life has sped up
and I have slowed
   down

my rhythm
alienating

the more I try
  to join in
the more I
drown, the muse is pulling

I can feel another pulse
it is deep

   deep

blue

it is the speed of sand
the texture of ocean
the ripple of one century
after another

it is a forever more wish

it is the silent pulse
the youngest throb of an ancient whale
as she holds the calm
and claims the surface

for a wandering moment
she sees me struggling

you are not of them today

and guides me
  down
I navigate my slowness
my steadiness

I pulse languid on the radar
these small eyes
understanding
still rhythms

to those up there
I pulse alone
the surface ruffled by wind and
the chattering white waves

aah but I pulse not-of-them today
   I pulse deep
  silent
blue

summer solstice (21 Dec 2010)

14 Feb

she’s reaching for her shadow
pulling it as a veil slowly
slowly covering her shine
the veil touches her womb
and stained red
it bleeds darkness into the night

I come to see her awaken
to reflect her light
to see her silver sickle grow
and the shadow of blood wane

I see her in the water
broken cascades of silver
as each wave holds her up
as each wave rolls in

I open and she opens
a sickle turning to a basin
the basin overflowing
into the roundness of a fertile belly

the red shadow has gone
the goddess arrives
it is her time
the pink quartz crystal
softening the surrender into
our own shadow

silence (11 Dec 2010)

14 Feb

if I could give you something
it would be a gently pressed finger
to your lips

you’re full of stories
they catapult you through life

I want you to know
I love your ways

and I want you to know
that when I still your lips
it is because I revere silence
as god

my place (11 Dec 2010)

14 Feb

the wind has a beat
the house a drone
the birds use it as a blackboard

we sit on the floor as students

noise (11 Dec 2010)

14 Feb

I’ve taken you out of your house
and into mine
there’s no radio, no tv

I don’t ask you how you are
because I know you are full
of noise

this is why we are together
I know what it’s like to have something
life can be defined by

And I know too you want to find
boundless moments

off centre (17 Nov 2010)

14 Feb

there’s no centre from here
a rope tightens
and my throat burns
bile in my breath
old ideas, the fumes of past relationships
I inhale the
addiction
hooded insanity carved into words
and strung round my neck
I am identifying with pain

the wheel (16 Nov 2010)

14 Feb

In the dust of his words, I feel

I feel churnings of sadness
gallop through my body
the ache of dry land.

I feel myself stand up
tired muscles from holding
yesterday together.

I feel … a wheel …
strong, wooden
spokes

reaching out
like they define an outer space

turning and experiencing
the ground, the sky
life
is ever-changing.

In his dust I feel it all.

I feel the earth and the sky separate
I feel the earth roll backwards
I feel the open earth

inviting the light in
I feel something warm and unyielding –
resting quietly

fairly unnoticed
a still point
a wheel turning the experience

I feel a finger hot as irons
point to my heart –
don’t let this close! she demands

← Older Entries

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.