Floating stories like balloons in the sky
Revelling in their strong silver linings.
Imagining the shoes of someone else,
Entwining and binding the quirks of us.
Never be the one that I used to know
Don’t leave me. I can’t let you go.
Thoughts fall to my bashful Blue
as the world spins without you.
Daydreams of Cabrera woods
where long ago we once stood.
You in blue, brown, black and white
Me in navy dress and tights.
Our bench sleeps quietly
nestled within the tall trees
if those ancient oaks could talk
they would tell tales of our walks
trotting around the river
after school until I shivered
then up the hill to our home
where I would read a heavy tome
and you would curl at my feet
enjoying the roaring fires heat.
Brunching in the city park
shopping from dawn until dark
inhaling strong chai lattes
in the labyrinth of laneways.
I’m staggering to recall
memories of us, is this all
random moments here and there
tucked away beneath the stairs.
Pictures of you are calling
through the hallway echoing
I remember, you were there
popping in to show you care.
The seasons have clouded my
memories of you. I want to cry
yearning for the could have been
dwelling on the should have been.
With the storm came the changing
your life was rearranging
contemplating what was next
every conversation hexed
a tired withering flower
yielding to a Spring shower
drowning in abundance of time
poisoned by the cheese and wine.
Haunting melancholy avenue
a silhouette in foggy hue
weeps for what could have been
while she waited for the great ‘begin’.
Her can of love remained unopened
the voice inside remained unspoken
she never knew how to be
all she knew was how to breathe.
There was method in her madness
There was style in her apparatus
She could see what needs to be seen
She could see inside the in between.
Our very own Joey Potter
but smarter and oh so hotter
She was the brains behind the beak
a genius that didn’t speak.
Clearing the fog of self doubt
and sweeping the shadows out
are done with friends, hand in hand
for only they can understand.
That with every drop of laughter
and every silent whisper
will roll away the darkened clouds
and a life is left, standing proud.
Written for Writing 201
Fog — Elegy — Metaphor
You just don’t think they are going to happen
but they do.
A fallen hero
but then they get better
but sometimes they don’t.
I saw red bold letters
I saw yesterday on replay
I felt the sun shining
I heard clouds on the bay
Prayers barely answered
hope fell into shade
Darkness cast shadows,
against the light of humanity
but breathes of love
in the veins of a global community
roared across oceans
to the place I call home.
Streets lined with cricket bats
wherever I roam.
I didn’t know you
I only knew of you
I feel the pain of losing you
because I feel the grief left by you
Nonsensical things happen
and we all keep asking
why did it happen to you?
Written for Phil Hughes & Cricketing Community. I can’t say I ever followed cricket or know much of the team but what happened last week I felt in my heart just like the rest of the world. It’s just so shocking and I still can’t believe it. I had to write something.
Written in honour of Robin Williams – a true entertainer that had a huge impact on this girls childhood. I can’t think of a favourite childhood movie that didn’t have him in it. From Aladdin, Flubber, Hook to Dead Poets Society, Good Will Hunting and even more recently Happy Feet.
The day the laughter died…
shock waves and sadness
a piece of my youth – gone
I always thought Peter Pan lived forever.
Sparkling blue eyes
decades of smiles
like ripples across an ocean
throngs of characters
always and forever
caught inside life’s hour glass
trying to break free
a special kind of magic
never before and never again
will our hearts warm
like you warmed them
turn at the second star
This fog is symbolic of discontent
Hurt and pain burns inside this weary world
each of us clouded by our judgements
it happened in a moment; emotions twirled.
Walking through shadows of a misty place
searching; scrolling for pieces of answers
disappearing without a scrap or trace
echoes of voices of social dancers
Soon the fog will lift from this tired city
And her flags will be raised back to full mast
Even in this moment the world seems shitty
tomorrow will pull it into the past.
We’ve been here before; Winter comes and goes
We’ll be here again – that everyone knows.
Alone in the churchyard I watch
mortals mourning in tears and flowers.
Leaning against a rowan tree
abandoned by my family.
Beneath my feet a girl is weeping
I open my arms and kneel down
In surprise, she looks up at me
screaming like a startled crow.
She runs back through the stone and grass
reaching out to her, I follow
She turns to me – her eyes are cold
and zap – she’s now in the past.
Falling through time – I am weeping;
my eyes hidden behind grey fingers.
Left within eternal sleeping
this is where my Winter lingers.
blanket of white haze
the stench of smoke hangs
like a winter fog
sweeping reality through
a sleepy sunburnt city
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