Archive for the 'Friendship' Category

somewhere in the city

Buildings stretch before me
like endless waves of lives.
It’s not your car,
it’s what it represents;
and how I love the one
cycling by at ten to midnight
underneath the plane,
spinning parallel along
the fault lines of the city.

The buildings almost sink into the ground.
It’s not the bricks and concrete,
it’s what they represent;
a living graveyard,
the tombs in which
we keep the breathing.

We are all just waiting.
My lungs live
to rise and fall,
along the gentle tides of my energy
strong, then strong, then weak again.

This time of the month once more,
but for the first time I am letting go.
This place again,
but this time
my lips would tell you no.

my hand unfurls.

You are somewhere in this city,
alone and dark
not thinking of me.
Your jaw clenches in your sleep.
It’s not your tension,
it’s what it represents;
I would have robbed you of your pain,
if I could.  if you’d let me.
Gripped it tight, palm alight,
jagged sharp and burning bright.

I would not have found my own way
following your downward trail.
I need both eyes upturned,
both arms to clear my path.
And you would have stumbled,
without your burning pain
to light the dark.

My hand may be scarred where
you burnt my loving skin,
but it’s not the grip that matters –
but how far we turn within.

May ’14



i want to put a crown on you,
crown you king of everything faded beautifully
and watch you walk barefooted
carefully on the fallen bark

your hair like feathers
wild in every way
somehow my present shines
from the raindrops on your face

you make winter seem like summer,
like I could fall asleep on a faded couch
and watch the sun come up
through curtains I’m too shy for

little sweetheart with a newspaper,
you make dirt feel
like coming home.

when will I be able to speak
all of the things I want to say
without making you afraid I love you?

you needn’t worry;
I do,
but you’re not the only one, by far.

September ’10


your face follows me,
like a spectre
disattached from reason
a spirit not to be bargained with.

never alone,
I carry with me shadows of friends
some part of them, restless,

leaves home
fills my mind
rises like steam from a moment
and adds to the toiling clouds.

Feb ’10- Chado

travelling rose

travelling rose
somehow light enough
to be blown on the breeze

your face is turned from the future,
and oh, how I worry for you
wishing I could push the wind along a path

were my reach long enough
I would carry you safely home
(or back to me);

or turn the wind to my back
and fly myself to you
like a rain-cloud to a rose.

15 Jan. ’10 – Chado

foreign sister

I believe
that when you are gone
we will still feel your dreams

you have become
a native nymph

sister from across the seas
you are no more foreign
than the eucalypt,

your laughter is
the spirit
of our home.

26 Nov. ’09 –  Chado
For Anna Portas

we both know

we both know
this is something we cannot voice
we both know
this is something we cannot feel
life takes us this way,
despite our protestations
and we watch each other
come spinning closer
then spiral away.

I watch you and know
I cannot feel the angst
of impossibility
simply because
it is so impossible.
I guard my smile
only ever-so-slightly.
Our friendship works so well.

we both know
how it is, and how it isn’t.
we both know
what not to say.
we both know
this is something we cannot feel
but we do

July ’09


the hurt of losing
never dulls,
even when it’s been so long that you almost thought
you’d never lost.

but on extending a hand
and receiving a slap
you remember.

Not just the loss
but what came before,
the laughter and connection
the companionship
which seemed unbreakable.

recalling the loss
never hurts so much
as recalling what was lost.

June 2008


This blog is the collection of my poetry and prose, in chronological order from most recent to oldest.

Constructive critique is actively encouraged!

I am usually singing words as well as writing them, and make lots of other art. You can find me & my other art at any of the below links. x

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