Yum

I’ll devour these words

Every damn letter

The dot on the i

The curve of the e

YUM, there ain’t much better

I’ll sip the t

I’ll crunch in the d

I’ll grind my teeth on the c and the p

So nothing’s more scrumptious

Than writing on the wall

What they say, who bloody cares

Each word, I’ll eat them all.

She Told Me So

“I’ll tell of this love that I know”

She said to me one day

“So please, if your will should allow

Listen and hear what I have to say”

She spoke of the soil cushioning her

The grass tickling her ears

The sunflower towering above her

Yellow soothing and easing her fears

She told me of seeds and their spurt

How spirit moves heavens on earth

And the force that grounds deep roots

Is the same as us knowing our worth

“Don’t forget you are no different”

Her whispers I still hear

“What makes the sunset so beautiful

Is you seeking you, my dear”

And with all this love that I know

From the listened word, not spoken

I conclude that I was, all along

Whole, not once ever broken.

A Herb A Day

A herb a day

Keeps the doctor away

And calls in the witches

The white and the green

The rosemary sprig

The kiwi, the fig

All help keep me glowing

Through times hitting hard

The end of the tunnel

The light in my funnel

Isn’t further than reach

As we’re told it can be

And this delight I feel

I didn’t earn it nor steal

It’s a thought that I had

And decided to keep

When my health starts to tip

Herbal tea I do sip

And imagine my body

To be sparkly and well

Something To Do

It’s not easy to write when you’ve nothing to say

I pretty much face this dilemma each day

But as problems go, it’s not so big

There’s larger worries for a slaughter bound pig

Or the grass that’s brown from no rain for a week

Or the alcoholic who’s reached their peak

So writing something, a prose or two

Is just filling my time with something to do

So over and out, this poem I’ll end

Instead I’ll find something to break and then mend.

My Best

Give 100% and you’ve no where to go

60%?

“No way, too low”

40% and you’re off the scale

10%? Hanging on by a nail

30%?

Yea, that’ll do…

If you’re frail and starving or struck down by flu

There’s always 50, the happy between

For the average, make doers, not large but not lean

80% gets a tap on the head

And 20% gets our arse outta bed

90%, that seems pretty high…

“Can’t push for 100?? Tut tut, oh my”

70 then, that’ll have to do

“70 might, at a push, get you through”

1%, 12 or 103!

What number grades best when I’m just being me?

That Vase

There’s a voice I heard once

When I put my ear to that vase

A scream I thought at first

Then a whimper

A song that trailed into a prayer

Or the other way around

A voice I’d not heard before

Until now, remembering that vase

I hear the tides

The mermaids

The witches finger that tickled my earlobe

As they did that day

And I’m not sure if life was ever the same after that

Or if life stayed the same but my eyes viewed differently

Or maybe I just listened more

Because the more I listen

The deeper I see

And in those depths

The volume of silence gets really deafening

And as I loosen my grip on noise

The unknown unravels

And maybe that vase

Was the beginning of my unravelling

Or maybe

I just heard myself more vividly within starry stained glass walls

It’s all a little strange, isn’t it

No matter what I write

Is nonsensical to someone

So the upside down

Of the mermaids tail

And the witches breath

And the starry glass

Are all mine

Until I listen to a bigger vase.

Sister, I See You

Sister, I see you

I have done all along

I’ve stood under the stars you dream

Your woes are in my song.

I see the woman you’ve become

Perfection, that’s you now

No questions need to haunt your heart

Of when or where or how.

For all of that, the heavy doubt

The worries you hold true

Shall flow behind courageous blood

The sacred light in you.

For sister, you have hidden deep

A wisdom like no other

As from you born, not just a child

But warrior and mother.

Red Paint

IMG_1303

There are days when I envision myself crawling through mud.

Being cradled by beds of clay and fertile dirt. My light depending upon the struggle, this intensity of needing to collapse into primal states feels more real than morning rituals.

Let the worms bury beneath me.

Let the woodlouse tickle my belly as they mount the mountain of me.

Let me be where theres no explanation. No why or how or whats next?

I am not enlightened here nor unworthy to call myself eternally divine.

I am not an understanding person as that sets me above.

No righteousness is homed within my marrow, cells vibrate with the waves of the ocean, no longer reacting to the 6 o’clock news.

I’m nothing recognised here, Im absolutely unravelled like the root of a willow tree. Above the water when the sun shines and submerged after the storm.

And in truth, I feel permanently sorry. Confusion rising daily, as the silence is broken by morning birdsong. I’ve forgotten what it means to be held by Great Mother and nourished by our Lords love.

So for all that is real in me, my blood that runs, let it run freely into the earth. Let that be.

My gift back, returned to Her. My life flow.

Words are constructed but my bleeding, a greater creation.

And if I could paint my face with this vibrant colour pouring from me, without outraged eyes beating back all that is natural, I would.

I’d crawl in the mud to the weathered rocks and bleed.

I’d no longer be littered with pollutive chatter nor my fins caught in wire nets, trawled to set an example or sacrificed in the name of conformance.

I am interconnected to Her, to Him, to the holy and sacred spirit. Ignited by the magic our ancestors hoped we’d comprehend, believing to be woven into our DNA. And maybe we do comprehend, more than we hope. We swim fully armoured to stay afloat yet all that is asked for us to remember the infinity of our soul is to fall. To mightily surrender to where it is only god who can carry our breath.

It would be with red on my face, bloody fingers painting so uninhibitedly that id crawl thankfully through the dirt I’ve been so desperate to clean myself from.

No more.