Today’s Thought

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It’s ok to start all over again everyday. Sometimes you just need to feel like you can change something tomorrow. I like waking up everyday and believing it’s the beginning of my new life. That way I can approach people like I’m meeting them for the first time. There’s so much more joy in life when every part of the so-called “mundane” weekday has something new to discover.

Summertime

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There’s an invisible barrier

separating my skin from the warm caress of this Thursday afternoon

A shield to guard the realm of my infinite body

the one inside that sometimes sneaks out to play under the summertime sun

One that kisses the molecules of water

rising unbeknownst to most men

I shyly embrace the flowers between my toes

as  though they had snuck here in a sinister manner

like the neighbour boy

through a window

trying not to be seen

My feet and hands walk the wooden stairs to my manicured garden

turning away from the freshly trimmed grass to admire the weeds

and watch I will

the wavering clouds that say goodbye with such delight

They will not rain down today

and wash away this infinite girl who glides through the day

as one glides on ice

 

Neighbourly

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There is this human predicament

that grows in a place

we believe our hearts to live

It’s that sudden impulse

to turn away

when the fear of lingering eyes

and another human’s thoughts

force us to retreat

as though we are so sure of defeat

in this war of concern

~

The myth of standing out and being seen

There’s a cat that cries but you do not comfort

because you never paid the money for it

It’s the myth of money in exchange for ownership

and so I let it cry

~

Once again I retreat inside

to the comfort of a couch

paid for with my very own fantasy

The ultimate lie, I think

is that we step on stones

afraid to move one from its place

Multi-coloured minerals made into a multitude of shapes

admired for the difference

and yet I shudder as my feet kick them

from that comfortable place called “next door neighbour’s home”

just as I shudder to pat the cat

following me down the road

The Poet

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If I do not write

I will die at the Devil’s gate

waiting for him to scold me

like a child

the wooden spoon given as a gift

from one who has decided not to breathe anymore

I write as one gasps for air

after lingering under the waves for too long

wading through the ocean foam

my hands carving letters into the sand

before the tide takes them away

I long to etch them deep

so that these words will stay

a maddening dash of pure expression

along the shore of some nameless beach in Wollongong

White Chocolate

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I crave the delicacy of white chocolate

the sweet hot delight to warm my cold disposition

The embrace of its arm around my throat

not to choke

but to caress me from my waking state

into a dream with thick buttery rivers

and days sunken into the grass

soaking under the Sun

watching this chocolate world melt around me

into new forms

new places to explore

new, beautiful things to make me cry

 

 

Trees

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I am the wild wind

in a world where trees sprout out of the ground

just to breathe me in

Ten kilometres in the air

they will grow

and they will fall

with the ebbing and flowing

of these lungs beneath my chest

~

This world of trees was made for me

and when the mountains rise up

to impede my way

I will bounce off the various surfaces

sometimes smooth

sometimes rough

~

But every time

I will find my way through the cracks

the crevices

and I will find myself on the other side of that mountain

greeting these trees

that sprouted just for me

Princess

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My butterfly blue dress

turns me into a princess

in a world where it’s better to be the bad girl

Where black eyes and a foul grin

deserve attention

receive admiration

The mysterious tempting woman with a dark side

A vision of struggle

how clearly you have suffered

~

Well

I have many sides

both the Sun and Moon have seen

I have scars

I’m a complicated scribble

made with the precision of a first graders hand

My feet have callouses

from years of walking through

the rocks of expectation you laid before my feet

~

So today I will wear a butterfly blue dress

and plump pink lip gloss

My hair will be pulled back to reveal

eyes that have escaped the thick shadow

And I’ll feel like a princess

with today’s promise bowing before my feet

The Rainbow at the end of the World ~A poem for today~

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I weathered my woeful spirit

when they screamed hate and chanted your name

Their eyes are eyes that have never seen

the end of the world

and how it never gave one thought

about colour, tone or shade.

~

The world simply makes Rainbows for you to follow

Did you not hear the story?

The one that promised you a pot of gold at the end?

You have refused the treasure so dear to me

The one freely shared to those

who step beyond the clouds to see.

~

I weathered my woeful spirit

when blood stained the streets

and screams echoed from sidewalks

and tears made the rivers bow down in defeat

~

This waterfall has no name

For it is a travelling, untamed beast

No Nation

No Flag

Just a wave, washing over the land

and it never gave one thought

about colour, tone or shade.