As my light becomes dark

I intertwine my words and vision into woven light

Thursday, December 30, 2010


Thie question was posed to me a few months ago....and as we embark on a new year, I return to the question and I return to the words.....

My “job” is not me.  My job is the in between place where I stand searching for what I want for my life.  A job, a place I go to make money, so I can live, and leave that job at the end of the day and do the things I love.  This job has no ties with my inner world, my inner desires.  Why do I do this job?  We have to work....does this make me happy?  A question, separate, yet probably the one that is important.
I write to free my inner voice that seems to have little room for expression in the world I live.  I write to show, to be free, to discover, to feel and ultimately grow.  If this was posed as the question “WHAT IS THE ONE THING YOU WANT TO DO” writing would complete me.
I be the person I am because to me there aren’t enough good hearted people.  It’s the thing I strive hardest at, be the best person I can be, to love and share and give
I don’t know why I do what I do.  Maybe because you HAVE to do, and does that doing mean you have to do what makes you happy???

Thursday, December 9, 2010


There is a dusty path
That leads to a small door
The door to a small space
And in that small space
A light will appear
A light from my heart
I allowed you to come near
You saw my light
The beautiful light came from me
You reached through the small doorway
My heart was set free
You took hold of my torch
You took hold of me
Now where is my flame?
The flame that once warmed me
How do I illuminate a dark heart?
Which now is a bottomless hole?
How do I fill my heart with promise?
And empty the dark from my soul?
Where can I find the light?
The light just for me
And how can I fill the small space
The place, the space
My heart

Tuesday, November 30, 2010


Fumbling with the straws
Grappling and juggling them
In my fingers
Where is the long one?
Hidden among the short ones
The likelihood of my success
Muddled amongst the coloured
Without reason, my hopeless
Scrambling fingers
Spoiling and stumbling
They are failing me
                Failing me


The winds as they change
The blossom does sway
Dancing in the light
Swinging, caught in the breeze
Destiny wrapped in the warmth
As spring exhales it’s breathe
A hymn clings to the golden thread
The embrace dressed in jasmine scent
While petals begin to fall
Whispers of tomorrows hope reflect
The wind will change
And the spirit will drift
A heart loves you


Sunday, November 28, 2010


inspired love
walk in light

                    walk in light

shadows of the spirit
fade with time
that sway like shoes hung
from an overhead wire
doing pirroettes through
the clouds and distant sky
as the sun and moon move
reflecting the glow
the notes are caught in the breeze
that balance on the edge
as the inner dawn breaks
the darkened claws
the ghost haunting
no longer in control
the yellow step unseen
catching the step
pushing the soul to fall
without strings
toward the darkened ground
screaming sounds
trapped in the sorrowed heart
watching as the pride
is smashed into tiny pieces
coloured red, purple and green
the colour leaking all over the
darkened ground
the soul
and the swaying spirit
walk in light

            walk in light

Tuesday, November 23, 2010


I will always love you, and I remember you always at this time........

You left
You couldn’t stay
You had to leave
You went away
I hoped my love would be enough
My love for you
My love for you
Have you woken in a place I will never see?
Have you for forgotten this life?
Have you forgotten me?
Why did I not listen?
Why did I not hear?
I’m sure you tried to tell me
I’m sure you made it clear
Was I nothing to your heart?
And nothingness tore out your soul?
Tore the soul from your heart?
No warmth, no love
No longer you felt whole
Now there is nothing left
Like the dust of the earth
As the ashes rose
Is that all you’re worth?
Your spirit drifted away
And my heart it did close
A moment in time
As your spirit rose
As I closed my heart
I also closed my eyes
I let out a cry
And cried my goodbyes
Why didn’t you scream at me?
Scream, howl and cry
Maybe I would have heard you
Instead you chose to die
I have been there
Stared pain in the face
Nothing worth loving
Nothing but blackness
Nothing but hate
My head full of hatred
My body full of dread
You could have ripped out my heart
Held it, felt it
My heart too felt dead
Shades and shadows of death
Loomed all around
The doors felt closed
In a place underground
Where did I lose myself?
On a path made for me
It was a map of my life
But I felt lost
In a life which that did not deserve me
Like you I wanted to die
And go far away
But something saved me
It was life, my life
My soul
As seasons change
I feel your soul is free
I feel your spirit
Do you feel me?
But as I say goodbye
I cry tears for you
I cry
I cry
I’ll always love you

Thursday, November 18, 2010


Willow weeps downward
A kiss upon water’s edge                       
Drowns the spirit in stifled love

Caged wings fly inward
            Fluttering dreams float downward
The heart craves outward

Wednesday, November 17, 2010


The question

When one touch unfolds the suffocated presence
You trap me in the colours
Embedded in your heart.
Woven between the shadows forming a river in your soul
life changes we unfold
In cycles of change
a mystical experience (oneness)
Where level of consciousness
covers our skin.

Lifting out of oneself
Accelerated by transformation
Being questioned
Our spirits are challenged
And urgency and intensity
Fold around our deep visions
Wrapped in thoughts feelings and impulses
Where touch is changed
Motivating values and the perceived light.

As time passes freely through the air
The unfamiliar slowness
Turning in the midst of fear
Spinning quickly bringing into the present
The dreams intuition altering the function
Memories perception feels the awareness change
As the light falls and the water caught
Behind the invisible armour
Melting the unconscious
Into the infinite unknown, where sparks of light
Illuminate the insight and individuality
The emptiness where the water flows through thoughts
As a dimly sensed thought exists

Finally released

Tuesday, November 16, 2010


A silent heart waits for the break
Toward the end
The broken spirit begins to mend
Stripped back to a floating core
The spirit to find its wings and move
Toward the end

Toward the end

Saturday, November 13, 2010


Remember what I promised you?
Times repression aches
The feeling of being late
Hangs among us
Where moments are no longer

Tuesday, November 9, 2010


I wear my skin like an invisible cape
Hiding my soul which floats
Amongst the rubble and mess
The clutter fills the pit
The scent wafting full of disdain
Lost love reeking of pain
Anger lies in broken glass
Among the sounds of shouting
And lies and unheard truths
Crumbled between unwashed mistakes
Hate, floating in a murky filled jar
Slowly decaying
Fragments of empty apologies
Scattered throughout the room
Ripped up visions of the future in
Overflowing boxes
Piles of past manuscripts
Stacked in a corner
Reaching for the roof
That has been painted in nightmares
Of scared lonely nights
My invisible cape looks dirtied
From the scum and bruises and mess
There is nowhere to hide
I look around
There is no hope of finding my heart


My heart is open
And all I was, is shown
The ripple of doubt
Flows in and out of my shore
Dampening the sands of self
The dreams seep into my mind
As the sun and moon cross paths
The notes of my tune
Empty from my mouth
Like a hollow strumming noise
My offering
Is given up
Is it a gift
Or a curse?

Sunday, November 7, 2010


The image not black or white
My infant crying in your heart
Below the shell
That sits on the shelf
Slightly cracked
Glistening light
Cradled around the mutated life
Crammed in the cup
How will she fly home
When the heart can't settle
Knowing she will break
On her landing
The changed mind
Reminds her of unspoken words
The silence that has been broken
By hate
Dirt falls in the corners of the room
From the distracted listening
She shouts silent demands
The empty room finds it echo
Its response scares her
Sounding like a distant creator
Draped in a luminous darkness
The black glow she thought
Had long gone
But her eyes now ache from the concentration
Of watching
As she waits for her time
I don't understand you
Your feeling
Your presance
That fills sthe space
That you drown me in
A liquid muddy water
that clings to the wall of
Muted yellows
Smudging the images
That are imprinted into the surface
You shiver as the black air wraps around
You and your shadow
That merges upon the wooden floor
Your hope caught in the nape
Of your shadows neck
That too fades
Time does not change anything
Time changes time
Time is all that remains


For anyone who knows me, and for those who don't, I loooovvveeeee Kasey Chambers and tonight Jules and myself went to her "Little Bird" show (yep, take note, LITTLE BIRD, there is a theme) I have been to every show of hers, (but no I am not one of those obsessed fans, who wait at the stage door, clutching paraphernalia for my idol to sign) we saw those people, and good on em, waiting, chain smoking in anticipation for their idol.  But I just don't get it, do they realise their idol has finished work for the day and they want to go be normal like the rest of us.  I just don't get that idea of "wanting" more from someone just because they are famous.  They are human, with feelings and beings and desires.  They are not made to meet our needs or desires.  Especially after we have just been treated to almost two hours of our idol at their most. 

These people I concluded tonight are the same people who pushed in front of me in the line for the merchandise (I was buying my niece a little Kasey Chambers doll!!), they push in at the entry door (when its allocated seating, don't get that!!), they run for the toilets.  They sit behind you in the theater repeating "play The Pines, they never play The Pines" or the people in front who aren't happy with their seats (4 rows from the front, they were brilliant seats!!!) they are the same people who cut in when leaving the jam packed car park and then they are the people who are waiting at the stage door for Kasey to leave...where I began.  Makes me wonder about human kind.....human kindNESS.....

BUT ALL THAT ASIDE (just me not understanding people really) I had a brilliant time.  Little Bird is the newest of Kasey's album and is beautiful (as always!) and she played a few tunes from that album, but she re-visited all the favourites from her past, she entertained and treated us to a show with no bells and whistles, big bangs and a light show.  Just music and more music.  I loved it.  The Captain, is my favourite and has traveled with me for so many years check out the video on youtube

The Captain-Max Sessions

But The Captain inspired my thoughts below

I am not perfect
I lie
I bend the truth
I protect
I protect you
I hide
I love you
I am no-one
I owe you
I keep trying
I believe in you
I ask for seconds
I have found peace
I know my journey
I see
I see you
I know my dream
I feel
I will fight
I will fight for you
I resist change
I can't change
I won't change
I am
I am me

Tuesday, November 2, 2010


Hello, as the nausea sets in.  The remains of my sleepless night lingering in the air.  My dream broken as my agitated presence even makes me angry.  Wondering, why am I here?  Darkness has not yet lifted, silence and slowness fumble in the surrounds.  Where have all my dreams gone?  Straightening, slicing through the air, where is the vision I once saw so clearly, is it trapped in the night?

Monday, November 1, 2010


The cover new and flat
With empty sheets
As the coloured winged bird
Pecks at the pages
The tune played in my ear
Violins are pulled
As my heart shuts over
I want to fly away
Looking for my wings
To where birds don't live
In cages
But in trees
Fast playing piano
Directs my pace
Distressed from the rules
The expectation
The knowledge
No longer noticing the
Springs blossom
That once dressed my visions
I am hungry for its love
Its touch
The longing
My passion
To be told
And valued
To be enough
Amongst the earth
The weeds entangle my life
Grabbing at the earths skin
The new shoots of life frighten me
As the wattle falls
Around me
I cant breathe for fear of failing you
When is enough good
As my eyes are covered
In a deep purple pain
That you carry in a silver tin
Your silhouette
Still visible
Through falling tears
That wet the rich earth

Sunday, October 31, 2010


Cold love
Old love
Sold love
Controlled love
Protected love
Arms length love
Nothing love
Glass empty love
Betrayed loved
Dishonest love
Scared love
Broken love       
Black love
Deserted love
Crushed love
Ugly love
Frightening love
Heart racing love
Running love
Angry love
Impaired love
Silent love
Boxed love
Denied love

                                Warm love
New love
Kept love
Fresh love
Giving love
Freedom love
Trusted love
Full love
Blossoming love
Embraced love
Unhinged love
Deserved love
Forever love
Hopeful love
Special love
Amazing love
Floating love
Beautiful love
Believing love
Involved love
Enjoyed love
Self love


Does ones life have many momets of being re-born? Do we die on the inside and then come back into life with newness?  I feel like over the past week I have been re-born.  My life has rebegun, yet like all things new I am feeling really apprehensive and nervous.  I fear.....

I don't float with the changing winds all that well and even when goodness is the prime denominator I fear that one day I will fall from the skies....I wrote this poem a few months ago, yet it has just as much relevance as I begin a new phase in my life......

The internal beast that I feed with my attention
It makes a banquet of my mind
Never enough to satisfy its hunger
A simmering, smouldering stew
Bubbling and fermenting
For the cannibal to devour
But it desires my waveless heart beat
Turning it into a chaotic place full of mess
Braising, parching and scorching
Preparing for its meal
I desire to flee the outbreak of commotion
And be free of the controllable
The dominating thought
My suffocating breath
I am panicked by the beast
That constantly wants to gorge on my soul
Immobilising me
The questioning in my mind
As the beast starts to grow
And manifest, feeding
Feeding off a bottomless pit
Leaving me empty
Apart from the beast itself


The blue of the sky
Reflected in its eyes
As the rain falls
The voice crying
Drawn deep below the breast
Searching for the soul
Where light will fold
Raindrops stain the earth
As golden embers weave the sky
Silence falls between us
Loves liquid wets our open hearts
For happiness will once again fly

Thursday, October 21, 2010

From the Wardrobe

The earth was dark
The shadowed heart hung
In the window beside the wooden bird
Words stored in a small box by the cushioned dream
Overlooking the deep valley
Remained speckled with colour
Floating amongst the trees
As dawn danced on the horizon
In a gold pleated dress
Shedding dark imperfections and failings
Fragments of dreams drift
You hum a tune to the blowing wind
The moon shadow moves across your heart
As the ceiling is painted blue
Becomes frightened
Hiding behind the rising earth
Light is uncovered
From below the silent heartbeat
Boxed words sit
As I hear the winds tune
Like you are still humming
The passage of time
Wrapped around the stones that fall
As time does pass
The past leads the future
And the wind turns around
The box where the words have been kept
Is now

Tuesday, October 19, 2010


“Are you in trouble?” he asks me, and I look up as the first light of day emerges behind his body.
“No.”  I reply, puzzled by this strange mans question
“You are writing madly in your notebook.”  He says
“Oh” I am still puzzled.
“Are you in trouble?  Are you writing home to your family?” He asks again.
“No” I wonder why he thinks this “just my thoughts” I tell him.  I smile, and he returns the smile, his dark eyes sparkling from under his beanie.
“Poetry.” I add
“Oh you are a poet?”
“Hopefully.  Trying.” 
The tram approaches.
“I am a night shift worker, and I dream of things like poetry.”  He begins to walk toward the tram.  Just as he is about to board the tram he turns back towards me.
“Good luck” looking me directly in the eye.  A connection with a stranger I had never felt before, like for this moment he understood everything about me.  “I might read about you one day.” He adds as he steps up onto the tram.
I am left with my thoughts.

Friday, October 15, 2010

The I Remembers....

we all come from somewhere, so much worth remembering.  I remember writing this, it was meant be in a poem, yet turned into this.  A writing task set by Melanie at Easter of this year, and this is where the writing re formed itself

I remember when I was five and I started school, I cried, I loved being with my brother.
I remember making cubbies with my brother every Sunday morning, made from chairs and blankets, we had a little world of our own.
I remember lighting fires in the fireplace with Dad every winter morning,
I remember school holidays driving to Melbourne there was always a building of excitement, especially when we saw the city in the distance.
Everytime I see my grandmother, a memory etched on my mind, a memory yet to remember.
I remember the first time I watched Brides of Christ and I wanted to become a nun.
I remember when my nephew was born at 4:55am, and I held him when he was only an hour old, I felt a level of love I had never felt before.
I remember learning to swim in the King River and diving deep to pick up stones from the bottom, I remember the silence under the water and trying to walk along the bottom where it was dark and silent.
I was 10 when I first met Holly Tunstall, and her flaming red hair, neither of us had dolls, so we drew pictures together.  I remember when her step mother burnt the letters I had written her, I hate her, she burnt our friendship, I remember watching the flames, and I cried, she was burning me.  I remember Holly inspiring me to be happy, even when everything around me felt unhappy.  I remember we would ride our bikes and meet each other on Edi Upper Road,  we road for kilometres to see each other, even for small moments in time, especially when her step mother said we couldn’t see each other.  I remember Holly.
I remember hearing Kasey Chambers sing The Captain for the first time, walking from my place in Shaolhaven St, I walked differently from that house that day, I understood what freedom was.
I remember arriving in Paris, and exhaling a breath of relief, my dream had come true, and I felt like I was home, smiling at every second person I passed in the street, embracing what my mind had thought about so many times.

I remember meeting Marie on the curise to the Pacific Islands, and she asked if she and her friend could sit with us.  Friend for life from her.
I remember my grandfathers funeral and feeling proud to be his granddaughter, holding his spirit in my heart and promising to never let that feeling die.
I remember our dog Frog eating my Easter egg, prancing from my bedroom with the elegant rabbit in her mouth; she was so proud, tail wagging.  She brought so much  happiness to our family.

I remember picking blueberries with Erica Jamison on her blueberry farm, and then making blueberry pies with her Mum, one of those memories too great to recreate.
I remember helping Mr Brewster do his garden when I was in grade six, he was 93 years old and I would sit and hold his hand and he would talk.  I remember when he died and I couldn’t go tend his garden anymore.
I remember the Christmas Santa danced on the shed roof and everyone laughed and cheered.
I remember going to my first concert, Tina Arena, I loved her, thought she was so beautiful.
I remember my last day of year twelve, 1996 and it was the day I turned 18 years old, I was so excited and felt like the world revolved around me for one day.
I remember when Laura moved to London and I was scared what my life would be like, I remember her saying goodbye and her mother was crying, and I walked away with tears streaming down my face unable to say goodbye to her.
I remember the sunflowers in Mums garden, 100’s of them in a garden bad, all facing the sun, swaying towards the sun, it was an amazing sight, like they were dancing.
I remember reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory in my tent at Marlo and it poured with rain for days and I was transported to another place away from the rainy windy caravan park,
I remember learning the flute and how I couldn’t read the sheet music, and how hard I tried, and I just didn’t get it.  I remember I wanted to be good at it.
I remember graduating from university and how I didn’t want to go to the ceremony and my grandfather told me the moment isn’t just about me and how proud he and my grandmother and my parents were and the importance of education., and he said if he wasn’t so unwell he would be there standing clapping me with pride.  I remember he died a week before the ceremony, and the overwhelming amount of grief I felt on the morning of the ceremony, until I approached       the stage and then I was overwhelmed with an enormous amount of pride and gratitude for knowing him and knowing who he was to me.
I remember when Melanie left our school and I wondered for days where she was.   Another teacher told me she had gone to another school and she was not coming back anytime soon.   I was so sad.  I remember having no-one to share my pain with over losing who I thought was one of the most amazing people in my life.  I remember not being able to say goodbye or express my thanks or appreciation.  I felt alone and deserted and upset.  I knew I had to contact her somehow and I remember writing to her at her new school.  I remember then she went to Greece and she wrote to me about all these new and wonderful things, inspiring a place in my heart to dream, to travel, to write and to believe.  It was here that the most beautiful of friendships was forged, through writing and expression and a way for me to grow wings and fly.
I remember the only time I have driven a car, I was 14 and Dad let me drive up our 1 km long drive way, and I did so well until we approached the house and I got nervous and increased speed rather than decreasing and almost ran into the house, and Dad screaming at me.  I remember never being able to drive again.
I remember Mum always serving us broad beans for dinner, and how David gagged on them and I remember asking  her why so many of them.  She showed me the freezer was full of them, the only vegetables that grew in a drought.
I remember when David tipped a boiling bowl of two minute noodles all down the front of himself and  him screaming, and me running down to the neighbours place, and not falling over from running too fast down the hill.  I remember mum vomiting during our drive to the hospital.  I couldn’t stop shaking, and my teeth were chattering.  David kept laughing from the shock.  He spent 6 weeks in hospital and I remember my grandmother bringing him cans of coke and I was pissed off, where was my coke!!!  He would cry when they would give him baths and bath his skin.  I remember him not being able to swim without a t-shirt.  He still loves two minute noodles.
I remember going to see The Wizard of Oz at the Regent Theatre with Molly and Nicole, and all the colours and music was so overwhelming.  This defined my love of musical theatre.