Saturday, 4 July 2015

Body in the bath: Meditation #2



I make rainbows of my self.
In the water.
In the sunlight.
Lips bitten and words
dripped in kisses.

Thursday, 2 July 2015

Pain Management: Meditation #1



Do not fixate on any one thing.
Fixate on nothing.
Be the one in nothing
Until the one in everything.

Sunday, 28 June 2015

Small Hand



Most days I feel I'm living
half a life
lost out on those moments that make,
the sacrifice of worth,
pending through the doubts,
the assine assumptions and abuse
that empties the damned cup
with nothing, of nothing.


A life half loved and longing,
for that something that brings
the laughter to lightning,
to resume my mantel of motherhood:
not to bow beneath this
ceaseless weight.

Waiting. Pending.
Not to break beneath silence
but in stillness sense
the path
back to you, back to me.
I tried. I lost. I love.


Thursday, 18 June 2015

Love Poem

(swapping poems, Pablo Neruda came and I read his words for hours for a reply, but inspired this instead...)

Though the world met me with cruelty
and I turned my face away,
in drear dim days,
you summoned a light there
once again
blazoned fitful flames
and hope
and hands
touching the new smile you found there
and I met you on the shore
and saw the lines of grief
   in your palms
in your quick chewed nails
so I kissed your lips and
we held the truth
between us.

Sighs of softness in the chaos


My life has very much gone through the rabbit hole, the reality of which is grim.

Dawn is approaching, the sky lightens as the witching hours fade.

I have intentions.

I need sleep.

The world is turning change.

Saturday, 9 May 2015

Cusp


Moon kissed music, skin taunt
ing surface strung on violins,
mellow autumn made melliflous in
sping's zing, all made up of new tings
and smoke rings.

Dropping beats in convo, echos of ghosts
conversing in daisy decked grasses
as something surreal slips past,
mundane made sane against
small things.

Sun's chords dispell illusions of
created chaos, the frequency to which
mystics and scientists attune, the music
to which  the spheres turn, observing teachings

and reaching.

Monday, 4 May 2015

Hearth


It beats like this, my heart
with the light of a hundred sunsets,
a thousand stars,
with the sound of childish laughter twisting
on sweet humours, in a face
that mirrors my own, but brighter.

It beats like this, my heart
with the love of a hundred hugs circling
a thousand gentle kisses,
with the sound of soft words from my love's lips,
in brown eye's welling truth
that mirrors my own, but surer.

It beats like this, my heart
with the hope of a hundred pleasant days,
a thousand gentle nights,
with a garden and a kitchen to share,
in a family forged in kindness
that mirrors us in bliss.