Monday, November 21, 2011

Full Moon Rising

Against your night
my skin so pale
this cold wind
bitter spiteful
jealous wind
finds its way
inside me

Between the spaces
of my cage
my heart
a fallen moon
only the dark side
of me knows you
my night
and begs you now

Swallow me whole
into your darkness
let me feel
your velvet heart
against my cage

Break this spell
that stole my heart
and froze it
for eternity
let the dark syrup of your eyes
fill my veins

You are my blood line
my first breath
my first taste
my velvet night

As I reach out
into your darkness
I feel your pulse
charging my heart
You fill me with life
So that I am
Full Moon
once again
to turn the tides
for lovers hearts
will be mine tonight

Friday, September 30, 2011

The Only Cuttlefish Left Are Sepia

an album of cuttlefish
a life before hers
all in sepia
a past of strangers
staring motionless
she turns the page
that freezes before her
then like an ink stain
the reddish brown spills a screen saver
in memory
fluid of the past
falling before her eyes
a black veil of grief
dipped in a nothingness of madness and disbelief
as dolphins and whales are disappearing
now extinct
the cuttlefish,
their ink
this, was their defence?
not enough to save their species
from the one hand that filled a fountain
to pen their trust

now turn the page
nothing blooms of colour
their only memories left
like the cuttlefish
a photograph browned
in a sepia sea
a dolphin a whale

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Three Quiet Poems

The Python Sea

I love the trees
with its twigs that nest
the harmonic sounds
of a magpies cry
from stark white gums
beneath a chameleon sky
the sunsets
with slight burnt colours of rusty
corrugated roofs
Light glares at those who dare
to stare
as it bares itself naked
the sun melts
into the wet mouth
of a python sea

Moon Love

bonfire sparks of light
reflect across the fall of night
prisms of starlight
blink in and out
as the moon lies
in sensuous curve
for lovers eyes

A New Day

pink ribbons of blossom
tie the knots of green buds with bows
petaled in curls of sunlight
splashes of play fill
puddled shadows
the sounds of kookaburra laughter
pegs the morning on a line of fresh day
blowing without a care
an electricity of breeze
blows the blue sky
into a new day

Monday, August 22, 2011

Dedicated to the #CatholicChurch Moms the Word

Everyday I dig a little deeper
Insane now for the pain
I let it spill out
with no care about the mess
I was so particular
about the slightest flaw

my secrets lived alone with me
and I
To be so alone
to live so lonely
so angry
sealed with a permanent smile

is a distance
that can never be reach
there is nothing here
in this secret place
barred with razor wired teeth
Points and frowns
where nightmares are made of brand new days
where nights are a burial of fear

There is no safe
there is no place
for this is not a memory
a photo of keepsake
a past to look back on
a shared happening in history
a party breaker
a conversation maker

This is a place called shame
this is my name
I am to remove myself from society
place myself as the garbage I am
and at no cost involve myself with life
I gave up these rights when I gave birth to life

   and don't I ever dare to think of indulging myself
with grandeur ideas
of thinking I could even possibly be forgiven
for committing such an immoral act
young single and pregnant
Oh thats right You don't think do you
Your trash dumb stupid bad simpleminded slut
                 all That can be forgiven
but YOU  You  and YOU
Pregnant.... single No family
No no no
Mothers do not
                     are not
made of such beginnings

For me the force of my pregnancy and for many
         was the beginning of my end
all over within seconds with my No meaning Yes
An alcoholic beverage
filled with drugs for leverage
was the daddy long legs
a spider that decided my fate
No meant Yes
was asking for more
were tears of Joy
After which wrapped in his web
kept for a undetermined time
where i escaped
and begged and begged and begged
for help
as my belly
got to big for my belt
I was ignored
and ignored
and ignored

until I gave birth
and the clucky nuns
who had a list of good moms
paid visit to the farms
moms to breed
were left in rooms
with signs stating
Isolation Do Not Enter Diseases
New moms who had no families
homeless fearful vulnerable
first timers  mothers
with no where to go .....

this is the place and the time
for many

for some who escaped
we were finally caught
there must have been a silent nod
that it was only a matter of time
we would be found

Trickery manipulation of situations
would be used to the max
to pry from clinging arms
the gold bar of life
the child

There is no way no thing no say
that can erase the loss the grief
of a child that is taken away

Within your body and mind
the power and control
grinds it way throughout
your day and nights
                                                    and you dare not move
                                                    not a thought is removed
                                                    You stay for the rest of your life
                                                    In that day that year that time
                                                    that your chid your baby was taken

By You Society You the Nurses the Doctors the Police the Welfare
Your System Your G0d the all Mighty Catholicism of Godly deeds Moral Justly and Right
Set to be the authority on Care of life
whats good whats wrong whats right

Before you existed my own blood
had stained my families snow white sheet
By five
I was named
Little bitch
so easy for you
wasn't it Sister Mary Merry Nun
you knew of this seed
and did nothing to stop the growth
you kept on sowing
the misery the abuse violence the naive the vulnerable minds of life

My shame
           you said
should never be said
You stole my child
and threw me out
you said
             Moms the word
you be silent or your child will be hurt

               and now
Look at me
the adult I am
thinking now
I have these rights
but where and how and what to...
God only knows
after what shame
                   and secrets do
right ...

what rules apply I wonder
wen having to be your own psych
for no one not even God has made contact
since you announced that what you did was wrong
that You are
                                                                                     Sorry .........

I take another stab at getting my head around your sorry
and what this means
am I allowed to say
I am a mother now
or was a mother
Is ?
my child an adult now
    this child of mine
has been abused and shamed too
how could you
and your sorry
that one Hurts
I've not looked at this
you stole from me

did they the sorry ones think about all this
      they said sorry
did they think
about all those burials
mothers burying their babies
births alive in their minds
All the Lies and secrets told
to a world of life
the self denial
when asked if a mother
what to say No No No I am shame shit and lame
I cant tell anyone that i am a mother
am I
what I am

Did you give thought to what we say now
to the world ?

as nuns you were allowed to keep your habit
just change the cosmetics
blend in with life
wear sneakers sunnies and hats
that slide across your lying eyes
so nobody can tell
you apart from hell

Now Im in hell
on earth
this very moment
Im looking at a multitude of
ways to get my head around
your sorry
your flakey blakey sorry
fuck you
you liar
pants on fire
I never grew up
you stunted my growth
your a cancer without
the fag
Oh fag lets talk about fags
you have done your fucking best there too
haven't you Oh Catholic Mighty One
No God would steal the child from the mother
you Mother fuckers
you fucking cunts of habit
you poofta bashed your sermons
used a brainwash of hell and shame
with the vulnerable and gentle
You made our names a stain

You gave us no choice
with your gangs of bent morals
To believe
I was bad
a disease
fit for no life
I have hid in the shadows
fearing motherhood relationship friends career love life god ME
I fear Me

When you stole my child
you stole my soul
my spirit died
committed suicide

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

The Blooms of Two Poems

The Birth of Tomorrow

 epileptic blue

The mouth of the sky
                 Out to a flow of white clouds
       our mind
                         the pregnancy of a new day
            like a soft rain
we hold on
      to the embryo
                of  tomorrow
                                     with new hope

A Lemon Scented Night

A lemon scented night
for a quarter of a moon
priceless treasures
my first perfume
kindles within memories
sun bleached and tangled
peeling nose burning bright
like a rudolph light
Christmas trees and houses
all alight like a bonfire
electricity and excitement
the crackling of the air

Seaweed green and slimy beards
hanging off our chins
like a volcanic eruption
laughter flowed
like lava
from deep down
in our bellies
Our legs would feel like jelly

Sand warm and soft
between the toes
castles buckets spades and motes

walks along cliff tops
singing songs
talking to yourself
to a friend
or reel riel real
       or not
Our child hood became
           part of the scenery
we were
oblivious to the world

blackberries cooking in a pot of sun
we would all squeal Yum!
with mouths pouting
purple bruising pose
stuff our bellies
and head for home

on the way
looking for shells
we knew which ones were best
we could just tell
cuttle fish for blue
still learning to say
I love you ~ I love you

Long white sheets
who's a scary ghost
riding push bikes
really really fast
climbing up the gum trees
smoking cigarettes
hanging upside down
so the world
looked like one big frown
iced buns
and mums call
don't fall
riding He's a Giant
Ten Hands
Stallion Tall
no fear at all
a lemon scented night


Wednesday, July 13, 2011

I Am

Im small when im with you
so tall when alone
Im shy when im with you
a force to be reckoned with
In crowds I have wings
I am social
a butterfly
who is
like the branch of a tree
I am generous
in my give
and take
I can ease the separation
of the punch
line up
for all your calls
a meaning
that does not make you
the practice
of philosophy
am more
and less
any words you
To compare
my words

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

The Snow Job

The blazing sun
startles the land
like a loaded gun
but not even in such glare
could you see past the surface
to the depths
of this tragic despair

This land that had once been alive
now bares the ivory white teeth of gums
like a rape
its blood clotted dry
These old ghosts
line up under the hot sun
like witness
to the nakedness
of the snow job
cruel hands in white gloves

The cold winds at night
howl the terrifying sounds
of stolen generations
Their souls stud a sea of unknown darkness
waiting like an outcast
in this rain of stripped color and skin
animals find there grief filled hunger
fed like a cover job
to the rusted sands

If you stop to listen
sound has no echo here
all that was
and ever is
and will be
has been suspended
in mid air
imagine then if you will
the mother and the child
being torn apart
In the middle of nowhere
where fishermen
use lines of lies to hook
and steal
from the deep
the dreaming time

Monday, July 11, 2011

Three short poems ... I ~ Am ~ Me

Poem 1. I
When you couldn't be the one I adored
                 I became that lie
   I grew my mask
Crawled into your illusion
my social wings
            already explored and torn

Poem 2. Am

always a little late
even on the turn
their is nothing right
or wrong
or more
my naked illusions have been shattered
Im just a reflection passing by

Poem 3. Me

I am just a breath away
I look at you
my affection disappears
your memory next to me
I keep it close enough
don't I
This memory of me

I am just a breath away
I remember eyes wide open
You watching me watching you
your memory next to me

Yet I cant remember this me
I see a me of reflections
in every mirror I see
parts of me
reflected yet
I don't recognize this me

I am just a breath away from me
I don't recognize

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Are These Words Really Mine

give me words
that are mine
are these above me
or beneath
I ask you
can you tell me
what it all means
is that writing
what you want
speaking your mind
choosing your religion
or not
writing a song
could that be freedom
never enough
too much
too little '
not enough to go round
tell me can you
is there anything
hear that you see
that is free
are they just words
are they really mine
have you wrote
anything here
that may be considered yours
is that what freedom is
that the is 's and the the the's
the and's be you what that he me she see blue color so on's
are for the picking
cotton on

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Punch Fake Media Spoils

punch fake
how i hate the flake
like paint peels
nice to rip
but to see
all thats cosmetic
paint and peel
You really
Aren't quite the real deal

punch fake
when i look at you
such a pose you present
of yourself to the world
sex sells oh yes
even in poetry
so it tells
your story
using pains of women
glorified miseries
to gain your glory
to get your story

punch fake
from a miscarriage
to the carriage
you have carried it all
it seems
only I see your real lines
they are silvery purple
stretch lines of truth
a mass million zillion dot dot dots

punch fake
you tell lies
make your own faerie tales
exploit secrets
manipulate what is white
what is black
print it all
                  on an
off beaten track
and in between
Giving wrong directions
                                     wrong direction

and what about the grays
There are no grays
so you say
its an area
a mentality
those well trod old paths
common as muck
Take ya luck
its all pot luck
Where you end up
Getting nipped and tucked
all in the mind
thats where the gray of day is
and the gray of night stay
gray or grey or grave
sounds much of the same
All them grays
Old Truths
'Well           you say
"Its all cement
                         they just need a good filler
Like cracks and
                     paint peels
No one knows
               Anyhow what is
and what isn't
                The real deal

punch fake
are the words
that fall
from your lips
The looks
that you roll in a blink
with eyes
                                      that spy
on others
 and lie

fake punch
is the only thing you know how to give
to stand and deliver
you would rather fall
than be a giver

punch fake

Monday, June 27, 2011

Gone Each Day I Search for You

in the gone
the cracks
like glass
like the walls
we build
their existence floats
across our minds
existing in time
but gone
on each road
you take
blocking your way
no corners or angles
just gone
not in a dark hole
or a bright light
gone has no change
no flavour
no colour
no handles to hold on to
gone is neither hot or cold or warm

gone is like death
that you never saw
in goodbyes

is not a vanishing
or a disappearance
something you saw
in the corner of your eye
and then it was gone

gone exist
it was always there
then it was not
gone is real
gone lives within the left behind
It is something you know
It is Someone you loved

gone is something
you had
gone is someone
out there
that never came back
gone never changes
it is monotone
it is constant
in its reality
gone exist
in moments
in time
the pain
left behinds

Friday, June 24, 2011

My blue blue blues bleed too

Im the addict of blues
Red slashes of blooms
In my veins
I share room with a blue fit lady
Who lives in a sheer glass tube

Strange friends we are and came to be
one night
you were there
my soul was stripped bare

That night you remember
when you held my arm so tight
entered me with the tiniest bite
like a little vampire lover you were mine that  night
and now I am yours
You watched while my spirit
committed suicide
and decided to revive
my mind
and now
me every single day
and at night you fill me like life
with the sweet warmth of a lullaby
sweet blooms
of red
like a beautiful silk slash
I wear you inside
Your my blue blue veil
to my pain
nobody knows
my true identity
just a name

Thursday, June 16, 2011

This Is My Shit

although I have issues
have been incarcerated
been judged by jury
bashed in fury
raped in ripples
till I've been no more
than an emotional cripple

although I have been
abused and accused
told I was challenged
by my mental lack
or wish
to conform
Have a great mistrust of the little white sheep
Keep turning
My key backwards
to the systems connections
Won't recognize there razor back ways
to corrections
spent most of my time
in solitary

although all
I write because I am and can ` I also paint too
but that don't make me everything I do
and although all through
Im everything above Im also none of it
Im so much more
some days
so much less
on others
and writing Shit Yes helps
and writing Shit doesn't help
Nor does it hurt
but I don't
like the idiots
that think
its because
I've been abused
and I have abused
oh yes I have
to survive
you'll be amazed what you can do
and wont do
and have do
and don't do
and the system thinks this is an ok do
for me for you
That i can write my shit too

I shake my head to all who state this claim as theirs
That because I didn't fucking wind up state mental stamped and mad
That somehow now my claim to fame
is that I survived
and now Im cool
No longer called a fool
and thought that I write
because of my life tools
No one should have this shit to write
No one should have to fight
No one should have to be raped till they ripple
emotionally crippled
I don't write because of above
and I don't write because of below
I write because I can and am and do
But no one should have to write about shit
But this is my shit
and its all I can do

Sunday, June 12, 2011

matter is made of matter

tell me im white
pure white
it doesn't matter
tell me Im nothing
it doesn't matter
tell me my words
are white
it doesn't matter
I know they are black on a white screen
and are made of matter
thats what matters


Living with the unknown
not knowing
a stranger
beside you sleeps

Living with the unknown
not knowing
a stranger walks beside you
Then the Crashing Gate
end of the road
no entry

the brick wall
in the mind
of confused
in the unknown
of unknown
in the trust
in the vulnerable
thats just been realized
thats just been burglarized
of all your secrets
of confidences
shared and believed
the plans
the good
the bad
the ugly
the treasures of the mind
there is no word
that fits this puzzle
one day you wake
wishing you had never
to the

like a shell you find upon the beach
beside you a space where once
he slept one two three four five
where once he stepped
six seven eight long years
without a trace
no goodbye
like an empty shell
of left behinds
a face
something similar
the turn of the head
always there
like flickers of light
catching the corners
as the shadow
leaves the body
like an empty shell of space
without a trace

He never existed
I was told by the wind
the sea
the tides
the sun
the moon
the law in blue
where I stand in disbelief
Panic sets
in black and blue of
     Perhaps your hurt
                                lay waiting
                                                to be found
I wait
and I wait
             and wait
I look where no one else would look or think
but No  they said
the name you knew
has never been
does not exist

Are you sure you lived
with this man you claim
has vanished one morn
who's name you give
does not exist
I wait
I wait
I wait
A Vacant Sign
Now exists
in my mind
in my eyes
my soul
board and nailed
from when you

now just space

I still shake the shell
peek inside

Like me

you were a figment of my imagination
for six eight .. ...
you just never existed
for me

Just a Cat

The way she swings those hips
a fur of genuine tiger
rolling stripes around her body
she has no misgivings
when she pounces
just another feather
her calling card

Thursday, June 9, 2011

The fall of the last leaf

The forceful autumn winds
insistent to take all

finally the last leaf
in fetal curl
   suddenly swept up
         cradled in the winds hold
And as suddenly
    let go

free now
            letting go
of all that holds
all that was
all in the now
all in and then
to the ground
   mother earth
for the last leaf's fall

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Of Wasted Lands

I dressed my words in blue velvet
lay them out behind a purpled bruise shroud
of nightingales song
then screamed them through old thyme
with the burning of black rose
and still you turned the tides against me

How long do I wait
for the cry of blackbirds
to empty from the wells in my eyes
How long do I wait
for your goodbye to greet me
Just to know my words
were not the wasted lands
Of a nomad lost

Friday, May 27, 2011

Stretching the Mark of Mother

Time has threaded these violet lines
like purple bruising flames burn
with fierce claim
to what was once
something she was honoured for
in wax bikini fame

She hooks to one with her mind and pulls
screaming twisted purple
bruising blues of pain
and there you are
in the back of mind
always lurking
reminding her
of why these marks came their way
of why she is scarred and he still looks the same
Not fair not fair not fair she claims
to the wicked violet flames

and as her mind claims hook to another line
the brightest of
has entered her room
and asks
what are you doing mommy
your face looks funny
why are you playing with your tummy
do you want me to tickle you

and all that was and all that is and all the flames and pains and gains
stand small and innocent
wanting nothing from you
Only what you give
mothers love
and to tickle your tummy 

Monday, May 23, 2011

Why Knot

Big blue ribbon bows for eyes
a chocolate of soft centres
looks up to the mothers face
screams .... Why Not
The mother bends down
and says because I said sooo
and ties the mouth into a very tight knot
with a pretty pink bow

Sunday, May 22, 2011

The Gun in My Hand ~ Tick Tock Tick Tock

Day or night
there was no sleep
there was no day
there was no night
there was only fear
in fear there is no fight
there is no flight
wings are clipped
and fight is flight
and there is no flight
because your wings
exist no more

Day and night
the knife in the eyes
blink you loose
try to sleep
I take your eyes
not a tear not one tear
fell from these eyes

breathe on tippy toes
dont let the monster know
see through the six sense
even ten would not be enough
your food is intuition
thats all the heart beat has
To try and feel what next
  the monster minds
      in his nest

Mind games of
              no rules or destination
no corners for the captive
Just sharp sharp edges
In the dark recesses of the monster nest
    And in this nest
           an egg rest
shiny cold dark brutal death
Its hatching is loaded
Just waiting
       like a last breath

She picks up the egg so carefully
as though this egg could break
fragile dark death
She knows now life's fragile spot
she knows where this spot is hidden
what a clever monster this is..
She holds the egg to the monsters head
while the monster sleeps
his meal off
  of you

You think
tick tock
tick tock
tick tock
but a bar is there within you
You try your hardest to crack the egg
but your mind has lost control
Its hands its fingers are frozen and numb
You know it cant be done
and so
 tick tock
 tick tock
you run
knowing if nothing changes
he'll find you
and kill you

Thursday, May 19, 2011


If I could cry
Oh if I could
What a cry it would be
Every deed and err
Every Sin I have incurred
Would be there in that cry

If I could cry
Oh if I could
I would let you in
and let you out
I would embrace you
with my snot and tears
I would cover you
in my fucking fears
I would scream that cry
I would fucking die
and take everyone with me
drown the world in my tears
It would be the Niagara
It would be the Tsunami
of all cries
If I could cry

If I could cry
If I dared to cry
If I had the guts
the honesty
the breakdown
in me
to cry
It would be for the very loss
of  you
that would be my cry
If I could cry

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Please don't make Stupid Soup

what is maybe your interpretation of stupid
to another maybe all they know
war & spite economics rules our life
lets find our way back to giving and caring
and just doing the decent thing
its not really that hard
have patience with the so called stupidity of another
there is always going to be those who
were born into this world of ours
with out a parent who knows
without people who care
without love
that are lead into despair
who practice unreasonable things
who say and do the unremarkable
but never the less may hurt or be hurt
squashing those who are naive to their loads
is not ever going to help
make the stupid go away
all it will do is make
stupid soup
to feed the minds the follow your way...,,,

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Fragile survival

The blossoms slight of pink
fragile life
Yet the strength it takes in the seasons
to survive and bear the fruit
Often too cold
         or the soil
hardened by the fired sun

These blooms like a woman
                 so like a child
soft gentle blossoms
                soft gentle child
How fragile seems a woman
especially with child

So like the blossom on the tree
these fragilities of life
can survived
even the worst of life
          for some
children      like the blossom
their birth comes too early
Only survives
           against all odds

Like the blossoms that looks so gentle
soft, fragile of bloom
so is life

Not so fragile are we
     in life
We are none of us permanent
We are none of us fragile
Only fragile to the possibility
       of life's abruptness to end
So like the blossoms that have the strength to bear the fruit
We are an endless possibility
                       to the survival of our life 

Saturday, May 7, 2011

The longest Day Child

During day light hours the masks of the boogyman'
cover the faces of hell
Soapsuds put shine on the Have a Nice Days
whilst boogyman now smiles waiting 
for the end of the day 

Into the car 
and off to the school 
Always the longest day 
thats always the rule

Never has a child wished 
that a day would just stay a day
never end just be a day always a day 

Have a nice day 
says the boogyman
with the face of the father
bang bang with his horn
see your after school 

Did ever a child so quiet 
in school 
play lonely games 
of how long can a child 
stay invisible today

The smiles of a child who's father is the boogyman
Eager to please haunted with greed of attention
Seeks the child within 
like a thief this child creeps 
no one likes this troubled child
who just cant sit still long enough
Or sits still for far too long
who never reads or wants to sings songs
who steals and screams and wheels and deals
And She's Only Five ~
Hear the Teachers  Cry!

At night ~ this child,  paints a blue sky with her eyes
she grows wings ` and Says to the boogyman
You Can't Catch Me  Im so High In my blue blue sky
You cant touch me now
but every night when she tries to take flight
the boogyman's hands have grown to the other side
He is always bigger higher taller than she can ever fly

His hands have flames that burn with pain
His eyes have hooks and
his words are big giants that gobble her words
that cover her face making her choke as she swallow herself inside
looking for a place to hide
She can never complain
Instead her pain takes her away and Gives her a name
and replaces her with someone brave
who shields her pain until its day

When she tried to tell her mother
the night time hurt her
Her mother laughed ~ and told her father
When she tried to tell her mother
that the boogyman was her father
Her mother told her
Her father loved her

Remember the child in the corner of school
who played imaginary games
and screamed at rules
who's friends were all invisible
who spoke languages unknown
who shied and spied and stole
and cajoled
who cried and whimpered like a scared dog
if anyone tried to touch her locks

or sat alone   staring into space
who didn't speak   was quiet and bleak
who's eyes looked sooo dark
for a child of five
who couldn't look you in the eye

who often seem wide eyed asleep
and could never remember 
the a b c's 
Then this maybe 
the longest day 

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

The Blame and Shame of a Name

Who am I
If i don't know who does
I hear often that
if I allowed myself to believe ~ to let go of my fears
That God knows who I am
I Say God knows
I say it often ~ because I truly don't know

and Truth is
If God did once know
I think he lost track with me long long ago
cause I have been so many many names
and with those names comes
a person
As I grew up so did the many names
and as quick as they were born they died
I had burials for them all
Bonnie Billy Jean and May Rae for awhile
Star Bright Star Crash and then Fall

When I was small my first name given was Little Bitch
as I grew older It became just Bitch then Bloody Bitch
Then Slut Crazy Dumb Stupid Bitch
Until one day the names just all blurred into one
and I started making up my own names for me
The names you see above, Names of stars
Names Id heard from movies and such Names of persons I'd tried to be
Hoping that if I took a little from all of these stars
some of their shine would perhaps rub of on me
and maybe maybe for awhile I could be Star or Bonnie Billy Jean
and for a while not be blamed not be shamed

Now in between my names and their names a lot of time has past
and much and many and most things happened to me ~ all of me ~ included each and every  name
and much and many and most things I don't remember and much and many and most things
I can remember
and then things just became a blur
I would often find myself '
just staring into the night sky
wishing praying asking begging who am I
and thinking If I had a name My own very own name
one that didn't cause any blame any shame
I might be able to be free
find me ~ find who I am
and just be
Now the only stars I allow myself to name
are those I can truly see

I had read somewhere that we were created from stars
and knew that I was born
under star sign of cancer

One winter night as I stared up to the skies
I asked God I asked the Universe ~ Who am I
I looked to the stars in the heavens that night
And saw for myself the most wonderous sight
between Gemini and Leo
Is the mid winter constellation Cancer
and amongst all the stars in the deep of the dark
I was staring at the Beehive Cluster
Praesepe I whispered The Manger The Crib

A tear I have held for years inside the rubble of me
fell, broke inside ~ and a explosion of emotions
I finally expressed came out like the scream of hell
and with it a flood of tears that overwhelmed
I had always wondered about my very last name
Beez Why I had even thought such a name could be me
as I had wondered back long ago
why the people who parented me
wanted to be my parents ~ when finding a suitable name for me
came only with blame and shame
I don't know now what brought me to this name
all I know is since I have been beez
I have not been blamed and shamed
and I am happy
just to be

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Taken Hostage to The Biggest Safe in the World

I have been imprisoned
Taken hostage for the lack of love
Had a gun held at my skull
Been thrown in a cell
where the sewage pipes played shitty tunes
and the rats floated with ease
waiting and watching for me
to give in or catch a disease and die
Dead or alive
Rats figure Its only a matter of waiting
and time

I have been imprisoned
for more years than
anyone can count

I have been locked up with no window
Its called the mushroom cell dark and dank
I spent many a month living in this hole
I have lived in fear
I have been fearful to live
I have been kicked on spat on pissed on shit on pulled apart and put back together
and i never ever spoke a word or cried a tear
the only thing I did was wish to be loved
to be thought of as dear to be free from my un- life of unfree

To finally find a way out of my prison n
to finally be living in within the system
To conform and do what you have been told you been missing
Is a scary thing indeed
for this is what you are told - If and when you are to be free
Or find a loop hole which was to be my means
to the the other side
with a key to be free to life

To suddenly realise - see with your own eyes
How many are living in fear without steel bars
How many do time and don't know they're living this lie
How many then stand up and cheer for the kill
Celebrate death like its real fucking chill
Give up the rights of others for spite
Dob in a brother over a fight
Take out a sister and turn on your mother's
Kick out the fathers for fucking with lovers

     And all the time - The guards watch on
as concrete sets and keeps growing miles n miles long
and the boys still - are going to wars - no one questioning this flaw
Well not near loud enough to make others stand up and take the floor
Cuz mumbles don't do it  - and demonstrations are ignored
       And the food!  The food thats being poisoned - We know this Yet
We shop for more and more
Yes I know what bars are I also know a cell when Im in one
I've been in many and this is just one more
This ones only bigger
To fit the bigger hoard
Most the time
like its called inside - You hang out in the yard
You've all got your own cliques
all suspicious racist bigots greenies newbies dogooders drug pushers and drugie's junkies suits and blues
dogs and fresh meat from another street moving in - moving out - moving on
there is no different out from in
Its just a matter of time
and how you see yourself doing it
Either conform or get informed or get Informed On
I was never let out - I've always been in
This is the main stream of time
The main stream in life
Most of the time
you head back home
home to your cells
Its a place you feel safest no matter what the time

Every now and again your reminded
You hear of breaks or people being killed
in your cell or on the street
You know deep down in side
Your not as safe as you think
You also know the system don't give a shit
The system has got us good and tight
when your let out from in
Your just back behind the other side
the steel bars didn't go anywhere - they're still there
The razor wires been cosmetically changed
its now cameras and security checks of x-rays and dog sniffs Cops doing their checks
so the system can rest
Lazers and bullets are what comes next
with the guise of the care takers protection protector protective net
Really its just a way of keeping us all conformed
not informed

Oops regretfully we made a mistake - LOOK at Poor ole granny
lazered n filmed Six on all the news
DON"T aSk questions Granny... and Yes she was ..
really a granny - a sweet ole granny
Not a big bad rock spider Moving in Next to you
      Using head cases such as rock spiders rapist and terrorist Keep us at bay
Drug addicts dealers & miscellaneous efforts of breaking the peace
are the lollies to keep you law abiding citizens wanting the chase
for - Those who dare to question
Immediately will be looked upon with intent
So you wont see any body rushing to anyones defence
Yes we think we are being moral about this ~ we are being humane
playing this stupid systems game
its just the biggest pokies on earth

Now we just turn our own key
and lock ourselves in

Keeping the world safe from ourselves ..

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Sunday, April 24, 2011

If I was a flower

If I was a flower
I would be a dandelion
weed of the daisy flower

so it reads
from the dictionary

Why?  you ask
because I loved the dandelion
when I was just a wee bloom
and I remember
Your a sunflower
You come from the sun

Your seeds were the drops of sunlight kisses
that grew within the round body of earth
Its obvious to me
such vibrancy in colour
bright sunny yellow

I would find you
in fields of green lush
or even between the rubble
such a treasure you were like gold

You grew strong and bold
holding your heads up high
you faced the sun
proud, and the breeze would spread
your seeds you hid
in your tufty downs of hair

Within your stalks
protected by a rosette of leaves
that grew sharp like
teeth of lions
Was the milk you held
to feed the young seeds
that sprung

I knew then
You were a mother
of the blooms

When I was three
I played with your blooms
making daisy chains
and wedding bands
even a tiara for my hair
when I was three and all alone
You were always there for me

If i was a flower, I would be a dandelion

In the Quiet

In the quiet 
is the remembering of you
In the quiet
is the mornings that I held  you
In the quiet
is the missing of you
In the quiet is your cry 
I still hear 
In the quiet of night
like a child 
I still fear

In the quiet 
there is I 
Being quiet 
a secret 
of being
told to be quiet

Now quiet 
       so quiet 
I feel I want to scream 
and try 
          a quiet scream 
Is all I know 

I cant save you 
like I thought
your now so young 
and Im so old 
we have grown apart
I don't know you anymore
and you don't know me 
we used to trust
each other
protect each other
but I have grown
and you have stayed behind
as me at three
so quiet
till now

You wake me up
in nightmarish dreams
I hear you scream
only to wake
and find its me
You whisper things
that a child
shouldn't know
You cry tears
through my eyes
and now your depressed
and the doctors
are filling my head
with your mess
Im now trying to hide from you 
Like they hid me
from the world 

and now I have hid from myself
and the world
and now its too late
theres no way to go back 
there is no way to explain you 
there is no way You can talk 
and I don't even know how 

All I know is how to be quiet
Im sorry I left you behind
I can't tell you what happen
Like you can't speak for me now 
     You have to go
I can't have you in this world 
No one listened
         No one is listening now

Theres no place for  you here
Im all grown up  
     and Im frightened of you
Im not sure of what you saw 
of what you know

and I don't want to know 
its far too late for all of that 
be still now 
please be quiet  

Friday, April 22, 2011

Painting the night

As darkness falls
Shavings of nights carbon
fill the pupils of my eyes
blinks of black ink
from the filling wells
as my lashes dip
painting the night with my eyes

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Taken by the wind

In a dream I had
under a light
you stood so small
your arms open wide
like the beautiful blooms
of a flower
I once was
I reach out
and suddenly
a gust of wind

I am falling
separating from myself
into a thousand little pieces
blown away like blooms now fallen
I wake in frantic cry
Holding on to myself
wondering who am I 

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

War of the Gardens

A gardens at wars
as each struggle
for their respected space
first daffodils
trumpet their colours
as the leaves fall
trees are stripped and frisked by the cold touch of winds force
hedged in against their will
the wild weeds take rose
her thorns pose no threat
against these seasoned pirates
as they trample violets patch
leaving their purple bruising petals
gasping for light
suffocating they lay hidden
underneath the lavender's skirts watching in fearful wilt
as Ivy climbs the walls
tumbling over
to freedom 

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Finding Grace in a landslide

Around her landslide of age
Falls a tangled mass of wild flower and vine
where ravens wings shadowed her light
nesting in the black holes of her eyes
'There is a saying isn't there ~ she thinks
about something beautiful happening
as one leaves life for death
She looks back to her reflection and sees no more of the ravens
they have finally gone and left her
Now a horizon of pale blue cloudy skies
reflect in her wizened eyes
As her strength gives out and she can no longer hold on
the landslide of age falls
She can finally say no
To the master of wants
for she is only a visiter of herself
Choosing instead to fall with grace
she holds on to her life lines
smiling wide her landscape
refusing to give in to the cry for yesterdays child
she decides to stay true to her original self
let the landslide do its worse
She has survived far more than this.

Saturday, April 16, 2011

we knew things

Illusions of perfect change
just a little late
this fortune teller
should have been here
last night

Oh we knew some things, we did
as we poured the blood of christ
and christ did we pour our hearts out
laugh about our plights
all of this and so much more
politics stood for its rights
all in a night
we knew some things
didn't we
if it wasn't for the light
we could have stayed
here in the dark
all night

In the bright of day
inspiration lays empty
as sleeping falls
the only sparkle on the floor
hit by the morns first light

Thursday, March 10, 2011

To be a bird and fly

Speeding with the light of the sun
Birds of feathers

Like a boa of kites
they dance like jazz
Across the sky with precision
they glide
       then cut
                  then glide
                                across the sky
What fun to be a bird and fly

and Im only three

The notes of my mothers keys
Torture Murder Suicide 
being played out
and carried 
on late afternoon breeze 

me swinging
to the sweet notes of wild violets
hollyhocks and Toska
under my tree 
all this 
and only three

and in the shed
the sound of the axe
being sharpened ready
for the wood
as mother starts in another key
playing Choplin
as I swing
high above the red gums
clenched tight

holding on to me
with all their might
their arms branched out
as if to catch my fall
while a kookaburra laughs
at the mere possibility
of such a thought

Frilled necked
and puffed out wide
a lizard stands its pride
so even if I wanted to
I dare not fall
Like stunned by the sheer gun of my swing
perhaps thinks Im a bullet
and if it stands very very still
It will become invisible

but Im not afraid of such bravado display
even at three
I have been stood up
by bigger prey
and I have my swing
my wonderful
wonderful swing
and as long as it moves
No one or thing
can stop my fun
and spoil
my day

Until I hear my name being played in the keys
floating ever so far but near
in the breeze
mothers shed tears
and warn their babies
not to touch or they will get cut
but the axe is now near
I can feel its steel breathe
against my skin
perhaps I did fall down
and the lizard chased me
round and round
into the shed
where I fell
yes that its
I fell
cut myself
on the sharp lips
of the axe
this blood

Monday, March 7, 2011

A Moth from the Moon

Luke warm
The colour of milk
Your wings pale like moon light
Your manic
your mood so frantic
flickers flick flickering
against the night light

Moth in the night
Such a long way from home
Perhaps your a Moon moth
are you Moth
Are you lost
Stay the night
If you like

I'll leave my light on
so your moon can see  you
and you can see  your moon
perhaps by the light of day
you will find your way
I think your from the moon
You just lost your way

Saturday, March 5, 2011

God Made Blue Wish

her film of naked skin
not rigid like religion
but just as sacred
was about to be pressed
in blue bruising print

the priest had taught him
as a hymn
how to stand rigid
and swallow the holy
sacrament of deeds

Be good
to me
and God will save your soul
You are but a caterpillar
waiting to be transformed
if you are good
God will save you
I am here to teach you
the meaning of
now close your eyes
and pray for your wings
a blue butterfly
is what you will be
but first you must show
your God
Good deeds

knees are kneeled
into concrete minds
where young boys pray
the unheard prey
turning hims to hymns
singing the sacrificed blues
of deeds condoned
for young boys bones grow
and who's to know
when they go home
that the trusted priest
is a wolf amongst the sheep
and the good sheep sleep
while lambs be slaughtered
in the name of the father
not even he blinked an eye

and here many years later
still the same prayer
She did not move
when they came
like the days
of yester years
she knew
what needed to be done

Even the uniforms
they wore were blue
they knew she
was a blue butterfly
she knew they knew
of his caterpillar life

How pornographic
had been what she was trained to do
the metamorphosis of blue
the transformation of fur to wings
did not bring freedom
just captive within

and now the priest words had come true
the caterpillar was gone
instead he was a she
a blue butterfly
who had done the good deeds
kept rigid and still
never had she spilled
a word
not even to You God
Not even to You
but you knew didn't you

memory of a friend ..... "Wish"

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Pirate Sun

Beneath a patchwork quilt
of the long yellowed grasslands
As if a cannon fired
An explosion of crows
Kite tails a black feather boa
out across the skies
then like an organ grinder winds itself up
like a giant black eye patch
pirates out the sun

The Street I Lived

In the brilliance of the night
screaming believers rage the streets of plenty
looking for holes in hope
needles and thread they carry in the plenty
band aids won't help here ~ friends
there's more than enough of the ill and the lost to live on 
and here with the wheelers and dealers 
the screaming believers and do gooders' and not so good at doing much
Is someones little taste of paradise
thats all gone to shit

Down here with the lost and ill chills 
There's a taste for lost souls
Where the angels fly close to the  ground 
many a feather seen found
being worn in one of the lost crowns
For they are all Kings and Queens here 

From times of once before and could have been and dreams 
Yes dreams ~ There are dreamers here 
those that will forever be lost in a dream 
Mostly its nightmares and fallen frowns
that now blanket over once upon a time smiles

Here the smudged out blackbird eyes wear misery 
thats been stubbed out like a coal bud 
burnt down to its filter 
to suck up the grease and shit off the street

Such is the movements of notes here
Conducted by the skinned boned pimps 
that smile with croc teeth
hungry for fresh meat

Here is my street
here is where I was found 
in the lost and found 
here is where I lived my youth 
taken by the smile of croc teeth
here is the place where I dreamed of escape 
and lived nightmares
here is the place I will sometimes return 
to remind me 
life is priceless 
come true
to get out
mine came with a price 

Loss of life
the sentence
to carry for the term of my life 

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

The drought of you

I rain dance for the drought of you

Blackbirds die in the wells of your eyes
Your chemical love
pin cushions your heart a toxic beating
Your kisses now give a death cold twist
for nothing is left in you
but the death
of you

Your spirit
I watched
Slowly committed suicide
Still is your pin cushion heart
Toxic beatings bruise the cruise
of your life
now a drought
Your hollow words
scream at me

I rain dance for the drought of you

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Take heart`

The romance written in stone
the flower a sacrificial
sells itself best on the street
pimps need not hold onto the scent here
no one cares for the perfume
in a garden grown without heart  

Butterfly Dance

whirling like sufi
dances spirals
in the air

Higher Higher
whisper the trees

Higher Higher
whispers the breeze

Aim for the sky
Aim for the sky   

Friday, February 18, 2011

The Moth

by the light of the moon
the moth pales like a geisha girl
dips her wings
into the black kohl
and disappears
into the nights eye

The Thirsty Snow

the air shatters
thin sheets of cold glass
cutting through the new born flesh of buds
roses blooms red
like droplets of blood
they disappear
the thirsty snow  

Thursday, February 17, 2011

outside with the faeries

petrified lips like slit ~
with not much more than nips to bud ~
gota catch them ~
or they'll run amuck ~
a taste of magical moments gives to empty sounds
` lost in herself ~
a playground found ~
a new family born ~
better than mother devil with horns ~
father waste who's back in the war ~
get down now on your knees ~
sounds familiar ~
let vanilla deal with that '
Im only three ~
Im going outside ~
talk to the faeries  ~

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Ode` to Blue

 not so blue
 In the eyes
 they are blue
 these were called baby blues once upon a time
more bruised blue than sky blue now
 these eyes have been and seen
 and I laugh when I think about baby blues
blue for boys
pink for girls
    they didn't tell her that pink stood for the rose pink glasses she will wear
when looking at her blue blue sky

What a blanket that was of cover ups
         the blackest of blues and violet bruising blues
oh so many many blues
      cant blame a woman for feeling blue can you
and the Blues of the blues
Being played for the fool
 is it any wonder she feels the blues
each note played is a Twilight time
one that has surely hit a note or two
Yes left is a sad mark in memory
of those blues being played
theres no stain remover for the mind
believing there is only one blue that makes up the blue blue sky is like believing snow is white
and they don't use rose coloured glasses anymore

Mrs Organic Jones

Fuck me
or I'll faint
she says
underneath this desperate thread
that keeps coming undone
 when she finds herself out
of it again and again
 and again
 why won't he look at me
hes with no one else
thats plain ta fucking see
Fuck me
or I'll faint
she says
he's with that fucken' tart
what the hell has she got
at least I've got heart
oh great he's leaving her and looken at me ~ I wink and smile and wiggle my fucken big toe
here he comes
Fuck me
or i'll faint
Hello Mrs Jones
what are you doing here
Its me Ken I used to live down the road
your son used to go to the same school as me
God luv that must be some ten years or so ago
Id recognise you anywhere Mrs Jones
leaning up close says ~ you still do ya smoko
and a blow job to go...
Fuck me
or i'll faint
I thought you'd never ask
Of course love of course and aven't you grown
come on let me grab me bag
we're good to go
I don't need no face lift
or to look seventeen
all I need is me title Mrs Jones
and the rest is all organic and free

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Women Walking Talking Living the Hype

   Immediate is the Attention
That boulders
                  for shoulders
As she walks
With a trunk
she thinks with a smirk
rhymes with cunt
Like her cunt she believes
her flesh is of wood
She never feels good and
she knows her trunk is a tree
Its what everybody Everybody sees when they see

She lives within this mind set
Its in her eyes
looking out through her window
Her eyes demand
her whole soul screams
  Look At  Me  LOOK  AT  ME
What do you see
            her belief she is a tree
Furious her roots
are buried so deep

She lives alone in twisted belief
records and plays
the reels of her image
twenty four seven
spinning round and round
over and over again and again

Lets Listen In as she continues her walk

Theres a guy sitting having coffee as I pass him by
he will see Im a tree
                                  A Great Big Whale of a TREE
Perhaps he might like trees
                                  GReat Big Fucking Whales of Trees
Huh she grins with teeth tight clenched
                    Who am I trying to Kid ... He wont like me ...he's laughing already
                     He's laughing at me
                     Look at that Giant Tree - He thinks looking at me
Look at that tree
          Its a walking tree A walking talking tree
Got Great Big Logs for Legs
Look at that head
that bush on her head
I swear theres a nest of eggs

Thats me Im a sad piece of would be could be done's
Made of wood my trunk my head my logging legs
Im misunderstood

Her minds thoughts
drawn from hyped up guise
No pride is seen
in her height that stoops
               For she is tall
Big of bone large of limbs
Long of trunk
so her length gives height
But its in her eyes you see the fall
She thinks to herself
As a woman I
if of another place
perhaps yes even of another race
Would be dignified
Glorified and looked upon with pride
But not here  Not for her
Not for me
Not for I

She thinks
If only her skin perhaps a shade darker
she would not stand out
like the gum ghost tree
She'd be all and more
She'd be beautified
but alas
For her skin is white
Snow white pure of grey
With marks and lines
that stretch the time
showing the fine silvery blues of the birch

In the cold cold light of day
Her stomach
An alien landing site
Her apple her core
never far from the tree
this apple of me
This me the tree

She is but a Whale of a tree
that walks with Anger and Anguish
with no love in her heart
for herself
so no trust for herself or another
       she does not mother
her natural urges to nurture
                                    Her mind
                                            Her body
                                                      Her soul
and has allowed her spirit to leave

She suddenly Stops and looks down at me

She is looking at me now
I am looking at her
She wants to kill what she sees
In her eyes she sees not me
but the perfection of one
                          that is meant to be her

I hold her stare
I dare her to glare
with more than her eyes
for contact would be the first reach to my disguise
           I too am a fellow tree
for within this slim slight body of mine
I see a body
that bushes clumpy and frumpy
           she sees me as perfect and right
a body that would give her
the love she seeks in life
I wish I could tell her
this body is dying
for all she desires
is starving itself
to a death
that weighs religiously each day
a kilo or two
leads me to starving and spewing
I am
but a ghost gum of myself
For I
Like you
Also live in the woods
I too cant see the forest
for all of us trees