Archive for the 'Life' Category


My first year in Melbourne
I spent mostly in Hobart.
Two grandparents required my presence at their funerals.
And my heart held a year-long wake
for a love it wasn’t sure was dead.
(It breathes still.)

I learn again and again
how we don’t know that we are sleeping
until we wake up.
Every day now I am yawning and stretching
into something that feels more like being alive.

And that let-go love breathes quietly
in the corner of my mind,
keeping me company in my lonely moments
with its eternal sleeping beauty.



I walk through two sets of electric doors
and my heart opens with them.
What does Christmas mean, now?
The children are all grown.
Their own babies too small yet to know.
I am clinging to my
warm sense of magic
that sparkle in my heart still ignited
by twinkling lights and spiced drinks
a sense of love in cosy-ness;
I hold this sentiment tight
in the face of my lover’s grinching
and general spite for all things
red, green, and glimmering.


strange electric insects
guide me home
line the path with their
sacred circling of trees
their private gods

I have circled the ocean
to pay my respects,
long overdue
anointed my head with holy salt
as the ocean circles me
I have followed the long arc
back home
to the better air

and now the dirt path back
to the house, more solid
and real than anything
a year in the city has shown me,
my feet here have certainty
and rhythm, as my breath,
as the ocean,
as the circling of the stars
and the seasons
as above, so below

in sweat and breath, I’m almost home
guided by the buzzing beetles
rhythmic in their singing
to their private gods.

no answers

my mind opens up.
direct focus on the smallest details
opens a wider universe

just soaking it all in.
at this stage,
like a blind child seeing
like a new colour discovered

there are a great many questions.
I let them turn over inside me.
considering the idea that

there are no answers.
just movement,
just forward momentum
& exploration
just play.



I am alone.
The air presses down heavy on my back.
Different bed,
I’m more used to this than my own now.
Home feels strange
but nothing feels home like my head on your chest.

We are all alone
but I am incapable
of setting aside my
constant “connection”.

I am so within myself
and without, looking in
I can never see through your eyes
and I never looked.

we are fundamentally connected
but functionally alone.

I am alone.

the climb

This is not a happy ending.
We will continue to climb
invisible mountains,
alongside those who walk
on flat ground and wonder
why we sweat.

I hear there is no peak;
no height of relief to reach
no end point
no attainment
but a lifetime marriage
to the climb.

and sometimes we will feel
so tired; see the road
stretch far ahead and wonder
if we can continue…

but we will

and I know your eyes
are heavy, I know
the leaden feet, the raw lungs
I know

but my darling,
when we weather this work
feel how much stronger we are
for the daily slog we do

and when the clouds clear
we can see
this view.

November ’14


a beautiful silence
resting on your heart
in deafening rain.
curling steam, wet feet
one then two
feeling each tile beneath the towel

you are electrically aware,
a kinaesthetic lightning-rod.

who were you before this touch?
before this vibrant wakefulness
this fervent sensitivity
how could you say, “awake”
and mean anything
prior to this?

beating, pulsing, resonance
nothing compares
to this brightness
this feeling
is infinite

August 2014


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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