Oasis of Emptiness.

Posted: March 7, 2014 in Uncategorized
Tags: ,

Have you ever seen a living carcus?
Blue eyes echoing an empty oasis?
Seen right through to the depths,
Of tearless cess pools?

Walking dead skin?
Stretched over bones caging emptiness?
A Skeleton in clothes?
That resides outside of the closet,
Closed in?

A breathing contradiction to the meaning of life?
A fearless victim scared to death of being alive?
Heard the beats of a broken heart, drum to death and still survive?

Looked into a mirror and seen an invisible reflection,
echo into your empty prisms?
Windows to your soul now prisons to your vision?
Knowing the reflection of self was the only truth left?

The remnants etched in shreds,
Too rawly reaped to deceased to leave a trace of bloodshed,
Yet….Instantaneously bled out in droplets of bright red.

Painting a portrait so tortured on the walls like a canvassed aura of enormity
But the strokes of the brush of anomaly departs unobservable.
Vaporous though unveiled,
Too imponderable is the art for you to grasp,
So you bypass,
And I remain an exhibit in lucid camouflage.

Have you ever heard whispered footsteps of shoes with no souls?
Tip-toe amid the museum of the framework of an abandoned home?
Seeking her conscience to revive you conscious of her existence
So she won’t be trapped for an eternity in oblivion.

A forgotten relic,
Death’s, cocooned compass
Can’t you see her living carcus?
Her blue eyes of empty oasis?
Sense the scent of her dead skin?
Stretched over bones caging her emptiness in?


ImageSoft whispers drifting from the tips of a forked tongue
Rest on my neck with chilled contortion
My oesophagus constricts instantaneously with the familiarity of the venoms taste
As the serpent slithers amid my rib cage
Rushing my aorta with blood causing my pulse to exhilarate
Clenching my teeth behind a lip glossed smile
In a crowded room of friendly faces,
I am surrounded only in exile
Awaiting the bite, the ooze, the pierce of the fangs of familiarity
Into my heart now like a sieve,
I bypassed twice shy a million bites ago
The broken fragility of thick skin
As I bite my lip I recall the taste of my blood dripping a billion drips
And my stomach grips me as you coil my hunger pains caged from escape
Your tail still whipping my throat as my back bends from your lashes,
Violently thrusting my abdomen
I clench as champagne glasses clink in crystal spheres like diamonds
But my eyes long lost their sparkled direction
My ankles shackled my thighs agape, for your rape
My best friend tightly wrapped around my finger
And still I flash a smile as we cut our wedding cake.

Opaque tears drip as inner flesh is torn to shreds
The dissonance of our symmetry in mourned symphonies, hauntingly lullaby
Deficiencies in judgement now succumbing to cumbersome mental tangles,
Strangling knots between my head my heart and my stomach
If I violently purge you from me, will you gather me in your arms like a bouquet of forget me nots?
And restore my organs into flutters of my heart and butterflies of my stomach,
With my head in the clouds, silver lined and carefree?
That was how you got me here.

Why did you draw me in?
Obviously in pencil not in penned intent,
I was so distracted penning poems of this etch,
I failed to see my reflection onto you was nothing but a drafted sketch
I longed for portraits on our walls of love so brick and mortar….
I let you nail my walls, once held sacred like an alter….
And onto you poured all my Holy water
I adored you
Now you have uprooted the foundation I thought was concrete
Left me with the ease I let you in
You left me feeling like some tumbleweed you stumbled in.

And I’ve cried enough tears to drown all the other fish in the ocean
And the hope in my eyes is now window panes in the rain,
and I can’t for the life left in me close them drapes
I see the outline of my reflection in the glass
and I know I’m not a complete picture let alone a perfect portrait

I see why you pencilled me in and how I appeared on your page shaded
Because I never deserved the pen or even the coloured crayons
I was wax bendable, unreliable and unpredictable
Meek grey, solemn and undeserving
Unjustified, fake embellished
Masks are plenty and scars are eternal

My eyes of lies pulled you in,
and my claws of insecurities kept you pinned .
My pining desires, amid eccentric behaviours kept you caged in
Now I’m crushed, vague and scattered relics
Mummified, toxic,
Crumbled temples,
On my knees again, by the alter praying
Amid the torn pages of my Revelations

Crystal Clear Clarity.

Posted: February 26, 2014 in Uncategorized

Wise words spoken with quiet tongues,
With volume blasting clearly, to waif carefully,
On harsh gentle breeze, and seek harmony,
While it wilters to rest, in crystal clear clarity.

Like a vision in a dream, never wakefully seen,
or subconsciously seemed, a dream.
Fairy-tales with happy endings,
playfully fluttering on fairy wings.
Make believe things,that make you believe in things ,
to sustain a healthy, mystical possession of magic in your mind,
like a child with an imaginary friend.
At a time when innocence was prime, before the misery of life truly began,
And succumb us into reality.
Negative vibes , less fun and the drone of everyday living.
Feeling stuck in a rut again,
different day same old drill,
Oh how it feels, to see clearly, with crystal clear rose coloured glasses,
masking the mundane tortures , of mundane living,
thanks given for the gift of sight, and mind to contort , and twist us into turmoils, we can’t envision an escape from.

Fairy wings flutter by, without us blinking an open eye,
to the magic of life,
lost in adult minds,
in daily grinds,
not ever taking a moment in time, to taste the preciousness of life.
To inhale the purity of imagination,
to taste the clarity of carefree existence,
Where is the wisdom?
We ARE the wisdom!
Yet eyes are open with minimalistic vision.

Precious moments of innocent freedoms, pass by frequently,
without any knowledge, that we missed them.
Children in a garden chasing fairies,
Whilst adults with mountainous  issues are becoming complexed into delusions of, this is life.

There are lessons in living.
Imaginations lesson the gruelling, reality….Really?
Life’s too short to digress into trenches of irony,
spark some enthusiasm into my imagination,
and breathe some crystal clear subconscious calm abound me.
Surround in me….
Fairy-tales on tiny fluttering fairy wings….
Oh, the crystal clear clarity.

Subconscious minds swept aside in robotic strides,
if we just took the time to see from our minds eye,
and listen to the needs aggrieved inside
and embrace our differences,
with the ease we point fingers at those we see as different,
this world we live in could be so beautifully different.

Blissful reminiscence on oceanic breezed wings,
Serene drifts,
Caressing us to consciousness,
with invisible fingertips touching us,
with the sweet serenade of love songs,
within our hearts to pass on ,through smiles to all those who cross our paths,
A little love can travel far
and disembark, the distraught cries of war torn shards of once humane hearts,
to spark a change,
just imagine a truly beautiful day,
laced in clear blue skies
with the ease of breath that we all crave,
the laughter of children echoed in reflections within our own joy at being gifted with crystal clear clarity,
minus the rose coloured glasses but in reality,

Fairy tales with happy endings are no longer make believe things,
but make us believe and be beautiful  humane beings.
Striving with harmonious steps of hope filled wonderment,
With crystal clear clarity.
Never succumbing,
always marching to our own heartbeats purpose filled drumming  to love one another,
butterflies taking flight for the first time after being cocooned from life,
the renewed gift of sight for the first time, after being blind,
let your conscience  fly, with crystal clear clarity.

The shelter.

Posted: February 24, 2014 in Soul Showers...




Shelters from the sun.

Umbrella from the weather,

Amongst the whispers.

Twigs, amid gentle winds…


The wise eyes of owl’s vision reminiscent of the ghosts,


Necks of broken bones.




Shelters from the sun,

Ashen skinned,

Numbed and nulled,

They sway.

As the leaves drip blood stains their trunks.

Beyond their necks,

The broken limbs we step.

Withered under their defeat we stand.



Pleasure of the obnoxious.

Oh, the toxic atrocities.

The sheltered ones,

Branches of rhetoric without reason.

The treason in cycles abrupt in all seasons.

The ghost of leaves in autumn haste,


The ghosts stay.

The ease of twigs bequeath fate,  

Blood drips,

Blood droplets,

Morning dew tainted.




Shelters from the sun.

Darkness comes beneath the shadow.

Bellows sound, amid the shelter.

 They found no shelter here.

Within the limbs,

The leaves,

The trunks…

They echo.



A Dozen Black Roses of 13

Posted: November 2, 2012 in Soul Showers...

A dozen black roses of 13

In a vast vase of many other colours

Other scents other floral arrangements at various intervals of growth

Twelve year old yellow petalled daisies derived from a chain gang

Amid rice fields of enemies pooled in red


Baby’s breath of pure white, toddler sized seized with hunger pains

Whilst her mama’s feasting on white rocks

A dozen black roses of 13 pipe dreams of white pickets

Amid the white babies last breath

Heavenly scents become heaven sent

And black roses still hang in vicious Ku Klux’s with clenched hearts in hand

Unrest in Ireland that can’t be blamed on Islam

Stones of inhumanity flung far beyond or more near than Pakistan

Terrorism in the western homelands on our own streets

Of our own “peeps” with our own home raised weaponry

Of no particular religious sanction

Particularly of our own segmentary

A dozen black roses of 13 bleed rainbows

Bleed nations

Stereotypes hype of detrimental minds

Amongst my own diocese

They roam amongst innocence raping

And I wore the veil we all wear the veil

And we are all the henchmen with noose in hand

Strangling them

A dozen black roses of 13 scatter petals of every age race and colour

Tainted with the same red blood seeping

Rainbow SerpentMagnificence amid thickly grown yet precious branches of wisdoms spent thousands of years in creation.

Dwelling not on the leaves of slavery masked in hardness you never allowed the unknowing eyes of your next of kins to witness.

The movie theatre where you take your great grandbabies without them knowing when you were of their same age you weren’t allowed this same small yet irredescent pleasantry.

Your branches so fruitfully filled with goodness even amid misjustice placed purely on skin judgements.

Your kin wonder and I often wondered as I watched you from the park bench underneath your solemn shelter how you never appeared bitter and twisted nor gnarled.

How you remained of giving and yet fullfilled heart.

And how the days you hid from malicious malpracticing diplomats I see no tears trace your facial features.

I look at your magnificence in marvelled awe.

I know of  the atrocities because of my dilligence of study but not a angry word you spoke.

I watch passerbys ignorance and it saddens me.

They dont see the splendour of your limbs of intoxicating beauty with leaves of bravery.

The kind that doesn’t wilter come winter when your leaves fall.

For your sap bleeds your decency and speaks to me in gentle breezed whispers of the truth

behind your ancestrial growth.

And how we became connected by our souls through my willingness to just listen.

And you do not dwell as you shelter me and soothe all the ill will within my own soul.

You preach to me of the taint of villification and of the necessity of patience.

Of the joy of acceptance and the freedoms your soul reaps from being not colour-blind but colour BLINDED.

Letting colours bind us!!

And tho I do see your skin of ashen blackness

I see the raindow serpent of your soul casting rainbows and enlightenments;

Wonderment and gracefulness.

You were there when your family were bled like the sacred deserts earth.

Returned to their ochre coloured sands in seeping blood that bled the same colour as those that murdered them.

Yet treated with indecencies absurd to humane minds in todays times.

Your limbs of elder yoke so glorious I hear hymns of sacred Corroboree’s as I rest beneath them.

I feel sheltered by royalty MY ELDER QUEEN and I vision leaves of better tomorrows glistening.

My senses linger amid the sweetness of lemon myrtle and lilly-pillies.

I taste water yet to be tainted of toxins unbefitting your digestion wet my tongue.

From rivers long ago bountiful and flowing with the laughter of children by their mothers sides batheing in the purity.

Unrelinqueshed .. Untestified.. before the test of time changed and the streams were pure and full no more.

Thousands of years of growth since you first were a seed of your soil and still you live..

If only they would listen..

To the leaves filled with your wisdoms..

In breeze or still.. I listen!

You are the native trees, the native grasses, the native berries, the native animals, the native oceans..

The native streams..

You are the natives dream and your sap runs within your native kin.

Your voice echoes in the reddened dust of the desert plains..

Amid the tidal change..

The breeze amongst gum leaves and the scent of eucalypts..

In the footprints on the sand and the bush prints of your land.

Through the mountains and plateaus and it screams off the clifftops in the Tasman..

On the breeze elder queen

And I listen..