I stopped saying
you left me
I’m not sure
who the victim is
it is chaos
meeting Truth
Tag Archives: truth
stopped (07 July 2011)
16 Augyou speak of truth (10 March 2011)
30 Apryou speak of truth
like someone had written it
on the back of your hand
I wish I could draw the galaxy there
so you would know truth
is not a set of words
but the space between
every cell and star
as they rest
Like this:
into my belly (5 Feb 2011)
7 MarI slipped out of my skin
last night I danced
like my love and I
were one
I danced into my reflection
turning a spotlight on
and there my shadow
pulsed and waved with the wall
I turned the window to night
I danced as a naked spirit
I danced the naked shaman
into an instrument, a tongue
learning the language
of never spoken
like deeply set secrets
embodied in hips and elbows and breasts
show me what it looks like to be free
I danced with the moon a small sliver
I danced the clouds silver
I danced myself awake into the black
into the plump of my hips
I danced in my light
I danced in de- light
I found the source of the dance
and the base
left a wake of white fingers
crossing my belly,
I could have …
a child
in there
I’m naturally
protruding
like I’m three months carrying
a seed
I dance the rounded belly
full of power
golden stream
my strength
and one divine
seed
standing alone
this immaculate passion
I feed from the stars
I dance the rounded belly
by my self.
It is full.
Like this:
confessional (16 Nov 2010)
14 Febhe says he regrets marrying me
I stop in my tracks
I stand there and feel
my skin prickle in the night air
the phone crackles
yet I do not feel spiky, and
I do not fall, strangely I do not fall
these words belie the strength
or foolishness or honesty
or despair for something easier
these words belie
the truth behind the truth
behind the truth
words not ever aimed
at a raw nerve
but in his service
it is to crack my heart
and keep me open
holding me open
in a soft voice he says
are you still there?
The Nature Writer’s Responsibility (14 Oct 2010)
14 OctWhen I read The Nature Writer’s Dilemma by John Hay,
I couldn’t stop shaking with excitement.
Neurons were firing information and exclamations
out faster than my mind could hold on to them.
I confess, when a message of Truth touches me,
my body reacts by wanting to bolt to the toilet
and expel everything else left – everything
that was not touched must go, like all shit.
Old and inherited beliefs and indigestible ideas
swallowed to placate mum or society
churn in my gut.
Reading John Hay is a laxative for my lies.
The truth that I distilled from his essay I can sum up as this;
It is our responsibility to create union.
It is our responsibility as human beings, and as writers,
to create union.
This is a seed for me, so epic in potential, it’s frightening to hold.
speaking truth (31 Dec 2007)
28 Febthis pain is the pain of Separation
the question that expands all
that asks us to enquire
who is watching you
feel all this
so quickly empties my mind
my mind does not ask
I put it to my heart
and it reaches out
and finds nothing
it returns home from
an empty land
and finds no peace
as I speak it, I feel only
agitation at how much
is untouched by words
nothing I say comes close
to Truth
my vivid self (30 Dec 2007)
28 FebIndia, from this distance
distorts noise
cracking chants
sacred static
I’m feeling unsettled
I want to turn it all off
everything I say
misrepresents
the real
even my story
is disorientating
(does writing make me more vivid?)
I feel, and when I feel
the existence of my self
is validated
who is it that is observing me?
I feel, therefore I am
perfection (25 Dec 2007)
26 FebI am still in the think of my story
it’s like going up to some
great learned saint of consciousness
and chanting “I am Love. I am Love”
in the hope that he will see me as Love
only… he sees perfection
he sees the mirror of himself
my desire to be seen
(at all, but specifically in a particular light)
is completely redundant
for when I went up to hug this guru
I didn’t fall apart as some do
I didn’t even quake in ecstasy
(I watched someone shake a kundalini
current just standing in front of him)
no… I feel quiet
and equal
I had an impulse to purr in his ear
but the hug smoothed me into his
neck and there I was, fully embraced
he turned his head slightly
and purred
Perfect
and all I could think, is Yes!
my year without christmas (25 Dec 2007)
26 Febit might not be celebrated
but it’s certainly not ignored
it is the chance for every
local to smile their brightest smile
and wish me a merry Christmas
I am not celebrating this year
it just didn’t turn out that way
I mean, I signed up for a banquet
and then stood the party up
I ended up sitting for hours
at the foot of a mountain
and a guru
he says that a mirror doesn’t need
to be in the right mood
to reflect
it just does
I leave the gathering
and have no compulsion
to join the Christmas celebrations
My Poetry Book
