As my light becomes dark

I intertwine my words and vision into woven light

Friday, December 30, 2011

the little book

Why can’t you?
Fear of what?
Get it together
Don’t be so
God damn
I am not weak
I am strong
Full of what?
Questions about what?
Yes love
There is love
We are love
Yes Love

Thursday, December 29, 2011



Tuesday, December 27, 2011


…in a tree by the brook, there’s a songbird who sings sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven…
…and if you listen very hard, the tune will come to you at last when all are one and one is all… case you don't know, the piper's calling you to join him...
...yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run, there's still time to change the road you're on...
…and it’s whispered that soon if we all call the tune then the piper will lead us to reason and a new day will dawn for those who stand long and the forests will echo with laughter…
~jimmy page

The theme in my life this past year has involved the strength of the women that surround me.  I am blessed by their courage, humour, sense of purpose, desire, passion, compassion and love.  Each day I know I am a better person because of them.....oh and a few men have featured too, Ill squeeze them in here somewhere.

As this year began I had a clear thought, “I like poetry” and as this year ends I have a clearer thought “I AM POETRY” I am writing, I am learning, I am reading and discovering through words written and spoken.  I have spent possibly the greater part of my life searching for the thing inside me so I can have a voice that speaks for me.  When I was young I rejected all form of creativity, here I was with a mother who oozed art, discovery, creativity and I wanted everything opposite to that (well so I thought!!) Yet I had this nagging feeling “who am I, what am I, why am I here, what does my life want from me” I have always gravitated to writing, reading, learning.  Only now I realise I desired to live a creative life that the desire was to make explanation of the things I see and feel.  But I had no place to make sense of these yearnings.

Writing has allowed me to make and have connection.  My life is draped in all these layers of light and dark and shadows and now I can to some degree make sense of my visual impairment.   I guess I will never fully be comfortable with the fact I am losing my eyesight because it is such an important part of functioning, but I am fortunate the I have discovered that most of what is experienced is through the heart which sees in its own way.  If you are reading this you are part of my discovery, connection and freedom, that there can be joy, happiness, and this amazing level of beauty even in places that are so dark and uncertain.   And while most of my thoughts have been off in the clouds it is you that has kept me grounded in the earth.

Firstly Jules, you have shown me about dreaming and living the dreams.  You have so many times been my eyes and have taken me into the unknown, with the one thing known between us, that you have always made sure I have visually been alright, even when both of us have been sooooooooooooo drunk (and we have!) you just knew.  There have been so many days where I have longed for you and your friendship, and the fun, seeing live music which we love and just hanging out.  However, you have really inspired me to keep searching for goodness.  I am so proud of you and I am secretly (ok hasn’t exactly been a secret!!!) glad you are coming back to Melbourne....FUN TIMES AHEAD!!!!

Nicole, ALWAYS ALWAYS my favourite.  You have helped me grow up in so many ways.  I love you with all parts of my heart.  Thanks for always believing in me presenting me with opportunity, challenging me, for being the guide in the dark, introducing beautiful theatre to me, enjoying live music, movies, discussion, drinks, sleep overs and mostly giving me two beautiful kids to love and an uncle to laugh with and share his family values.  You are in my poems because you are in my heart.

Jackson and Isabel, you are my Happy Now kids; you are the butterflies, uncaged birds and whispering sunsets in my life.  I love you both very much; you are ONLY the love and joy in my life.

Samantha, Ashlie, Laura, Ally, Jess, Molly, Emma, Rebecca, cousins, the "sisters" I don't fight with, thank you for bringing the fun and togetherness to my life, individually and collectively you have ALL brought love, honor, respect and connection to me (next year we take our road trip!!)

So the men.....ill mention a few, Dad; forgiveness has shown me your love.  David, my brother, you have given me the greatest gift your two beautiful children who I love more than love knows, Phillip, the uncle with reason and I love that you make my life better.  Troy, my friend and truth, thanks for believing in me.  To the other boys I have fallen in love with this year....thanks for bringing forth words from undiscovered places.

Nan, I am probably the luckiest 33 year old I know.  You have given me 33 years of unconditional love.  You never say “no” and even for things you don’t understand you have always given me the support I need.  You feed my body and constantly feed my soul.  You have taught me all the important lessons.  LISTEN, not always with the ears but with the heart.  Not every space needs to be filled with words; sometimes in the listening we learn the most.  WORK HARD, if you can lift your head, get up and go and get into life.  GIVE, unconditionally the heart should give.  You have shown me that money shared is money multiplied.  And finally FAMILY, always the most important thing we have.  Nothing beats the comforts of being embraced by it.  Thank you for always believing in me.  I love sharing laughter with you, and we have had some fun.  You will always be a part of me, and I love you very much.

Poetry came to my life in a remarkable way, through a friendship I could only wish for other people to experience.  To share YOUR creative experience with another person and feel for the first time in your life a sense of BEING is like a bird being released from a padlocked cage finally having the experience of freedom.  Melanie you are an amazing, beautiful, gifted woman, who without a question is the most inspiring poet/writer/woman/artist and friend.  We have flown in and out of each other’s lives over the past 18 years, however this past year our friendship has really cemented itself in time.  I know there has been some extremely testing times this past year, lots of learning and care and understanding from both of us.  You constantly bring greatness and beauty into my life and I am blessed with your presence.  Poetry has united our hearts; brought us joy, has freed our spirits and given us voice.  I believe whole heartedly in your words your desire, your vision, YOU.

Mum, we have clear boundaries about naming our relationship.  I am constantly reminded that I am lucky for you.  You are the mother I now realise I have always wanted.  You will never be my friend because you are greater than that.  I need you to know that you have ALWAYS been the best mother you can be.  It may appear to onlookers that we clash and fight but you and I know better.  There is no foolishness between us.  Our constant discussions have enriched my thinking and because of you I am a strong, independent, creative person.  Thank you for supporting my being and getting that I HAVE TO WRITE.  I know we joke about me not trusting you with my eyesight (and let’s be honest you have at times been hopeless and we both know it!!!) but the past year you have been enormous vessel of strength dealing with me.  You have caught my tears, been hard on me, you have battened down the hatches to prepare for the destruction, you have laughed with me, feared with me and have never stopped listening.  You understand more than anyone how my eye condition has killed some dreams BUT because of it you have seen along with me how it has pushed me to see in other ways.  You drive me to places, rescue me in the dark, you have put me at times before yourself so that I don’t miss out.  I will never have enough words to express my love for you, and I know we don’t talk “LOVE” in the Martin family but you are LOVE!

With graciousness and love........

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

The Air is Good

Unexpected love
You are in my touch
And your beauty comforts the
Wrong in me
I’m underneath broken moonlight
Where peaceful prayers
Fill my heart
The arms of the clouds
Weave through the jungle in my mind
And the passengers with requests vacate
Looking for the truth
The weakness I show
Lives in the stones that line my
Rivers edge
Drenched in the water
My naked heart
Screams for 

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

when the sun kissed the night

The claws of gold
Break the flesh
First light says goodnight
Last night was first light
And last light went calling

Its broken cry filled the night
Its song caught in the wind
Light bled from us
As the dawn bird
Called in the night

Our dreams
Caught in the light
A yellow glow flowed from us
As daylight returned to the night
We are no longer held captive
Held captive by first night

Sunday, December 4, 2011

to fly

Little black butterfly
You wait inside of me
Resting on my goodness
My heart explodes with
Ripped up pages of thought
And desire for you
But your heart won’t
Catch my breakages
Little black butterfly
You wait inside of me
Wanting more form me
Wanting for me

Tuesday, November 29, 2011


Love is
            Love is swallowed like a sin
            That tastes like savage storms
            Love is a hostile condition
            That ignores touch and comfort
            Love won’t request your desire
            Or call for your company
            And love won’t beg for forgiveness
            Because love has a mouth
            That is empty
            Love will be the last to leave
            Lingering in dark corners
            Love is never complete
            And love won’t complete you
            Love won’t let you love
            Or forgive
            Or forget
            Because love will rip life from your grasp
            Without question or reason
            Love will feed on your attention
            Desiring a waveless heart beat
            Turning it into a place full of mess
            Love is a panicked beast
            That will gorge on your soul
            The questioning in your mind
Love is

Sunday, November 27, 2011

What I Want

Deep green valleys
Whisper damp secrets
To jump from shade to shadow
Freedom is my passenger
Pushing me towards sunsets
That clutch onto the hand of darkness
Freedom wants to go to places
I have never been
Where speckled stones
Pave out paths
And the warmth of the sun
Will wander with our courage
Freedom has woven me a scarf
Blowing rainbow threads
That drape around my throat
Colours get caught in my gaps
Where sunlight breaks
Freedom waits with me
Freedom waits

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Dimly sensed thought

We sit beneath the woody sky
Watching the light slowly fade
The flowing golden thread
Drifts towards the night
And my brother stands
Sharing whispers of
Moving mountains
That he can’t shift
Dusty flames dance
Before us
And we spin blue bottles
Sending shards of darkness
Into the winters breath
And flickers of light into our
Shivering hearts
We wait for the cracks to open
And the first cleansing
To wash
Away the lingering dream

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Reflections of your spring

I see jasmine blossom
In the nape of your neck
Its buds bursting open
Like you have woken spring
It creeps choking your spine
Tangling round your waist
And gropes your shoulder
I taste your luscious nectar
Drowning me with sweetness
I am drunk on you
I smell your scent
In each breath you exhale
I fold into your slow rhythm
I want to inhale all of you
So I too become spring

Wednesday, November 23, 2011


His unwashed hair
Clutch to the pages
My blindness
Sees his scarred vision
He is no longer alone
I lock into his falling look
Desiring his selfish blue eyes
I don’t know who I would be
Without knowing him
Favouritism now exists
And he is my exception
The sideways glance
And the silence in between
Feeling like a shadow
Or something lost
He slowly fades
He is my reflection

play me

you smash my heart 
       with a steel hammer
and all that remains is an olive green cloth

Sunday, November 20, 2011

fallen world

Over crowded
Crowd over

She looks down
                         Like shoes hung                   
From an overhead wire
                 Doing pirouettes through
         The clouds and distant sky

                    Shadows play tug of war
    With her silver steps
                Like a possessive wall
That’s cemented in thin air
    She floats along the path
                          Of hidden glory
                                                                                 The measurable beat
                                   Drowns the thumping heart
The step won’t change

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Monday 7.11

Thunder cut through 
The silent 3.33am
Rain fell breaking the dry
Dream splits and we fall
Into the tissue papered water
Ghosts settle between us
Wearing masks
And red dresses
Wearing red lips
Men who are women
Who long to be men
No familiar faces
Except yours
Stillness between us
Courthouse champagne
And a forgetful woman
Shadows caught between us
You don’t cast darkness
But images are wept
As rain brings the dawn
And broken umbrellas
Hang in the cupboard

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Workshop Me

Inspiration can come from two words, yesterday I told my housemate, Agnes, who is new to blogging to read my poems and then "workshop me", she thought she had to read a poem called this and looked everywhere to read it.  This lead to us now each writing a poem called "Workshop Me" and here is my attempt.  You can check out Agnes' version on her new blog

Take my mind and read its overflowing liquid
Skim through the contradictions and faults
Hear my heart speak
Touch its beating rhythm
And dance with my movements
My weakness pulsates through my veins
Feel the sound with your hands
That fall over me like the floating
Blossom caught in spring’s breath
My flesh crinkled like used tissue paper
Craving to be wrapped around your music
My shadows hang in the dark corners of my lung
Draped in the beautiful scandal of your spoken word
My scent full of the madness in my being
As my conversation stains the air between us
Work with me
Caress my tenderness
Forgive me
Capture my reflection
Love me

Sunday, October 2, 2011

The Woven Light: How should a human being lead his life? Aristotle

The Woven Light: How should a human being lead his life? Aristotle: How should a human being lead his life? Aristotle and by playing with the words in that quote I formed the below Should a human being ...

How should a human being lead his life? Aristotle

How should a human being lead his life? Aristotle

and by playing with the words in that quote I formed the below

Should a human being 
Lead his life?

A human life
Lead by a human being

How should a human lead a being?
His life
A human life

His life should lead
How should being lead be a life?

Be a life
And being lead 
Being human

Friday, September 30, 2011

The Night

Stay out of my shoes
For I will stumble
Through the pocketful of gems
That only grow in the

Wednesday, September 28, 2011


You are the bird that hangs from the wire
You are the light that scares the dark
You are the dust that gets caught in the breeze
You are the rust in weathered steel
You are the prayer I hold in my heart
You are the smoke without the fire
You are the bag of stones I carry on my back
You are the song that silences my room
You are the sadness that falls on morning’s dawn
You are the pieces that can’t be put back together
You are the places I have never been before
You are the stranger I long to meet
You are the wall standing steady in my mind
You are the gaping hole that can’t be filled
You are the brightness in my shadows
You are the stars that reflect my dreams
You are the angels that kiss my brow
You are the water that helps me float
You are the thought taken carefully
You are the moment before waking
You are the lost that can’t be found
You are the hero that sheds all fear
You are the desire caught in my dream
You are the wondering in my thoughts
You are the ache in my bones longing for you
You are the shell echoing waves in my ear
You are the muted sounds that want to scream
You are the greatness lost within me

Sunday, September 25, 2011


the happiness quest is like
strawberries dripping with
sunshine and dew
being drawn to your scent
the brown chair next to the fading print
sunlight breaking the dream
car rides and loud music with your glancing eye
lattes in takeaway cardboard cups
birds on a wire on winter mornings
my heart in the nape of your neck
it is his cheeky grin and cars made of dough
purple scarves draped like lavender fields
when you won’t let me go
the freedom of having a heart broken like
waterfalls crashing on rocks
summer evenings walking on warm cement
the photos that line the archways like
carefully paved cities
movie nights and homemade ice-cream
the shadows drawn on your back
honeysuckle vines choking red brick alleyways
the bike tyres dodging the gaps in the bridge
the rattling bones in my ear
pressed leaves in old phone books
long grass and white butterflies
your hands dancing like ribbons twirling in the wind
hot chips on the beach
when you spoke the words of your people
my shadowed eyes searching for visions
like forgotten flowers
scattered upon the aging stone
dressing the spirit in light
like a dress made of autumn silk
the happiness quest

We acknowledge One

I hear the tingling of tiny symbols
Silence broken through the echoes
I hear his voice join us
Its presence draped in green cloth

I smell incense and mint
Amongst the strands of my hair
I smell her tiring voice singing the Amen’s
The longing rises through her prayers

I see the break through the coloured glass
Light catches the dust not ready to fall
I see his spirit in their bodies
Harbouring an unwavering strength

I taste the trembling in the wooden bench
Bearing the weight of his love
I taste the hunger caught in the wanting
Desperation amongst their dying faith


I dedicate this to my Grandfather, the father and my grandmothers one love.  He has shown us all how to be better people, to live with integrity and I know he walks in us all.

The Leaving

Dear you
You didn’t kill the black cat
It was tangled with the black snake
You didn’t kill the black crow
It was tangled with the black cat
You didn’t kill the black dog
It was entangled in your

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

the falls

The below poem comes from two inspirations firstly from a poem by Borges called "My Whole Life", this inspired my friend Melanie to write her own version and can be read at 

This then inspired me to write my own version........

Here once again amongst the shadows of the past
I kept memories of the bushland that danced on the river’s edge
I have stood under towering metal and gazed at its breaking light
I have listened to words sung in places so divine
I have bathed under waters of paradise where sacred women now rest
I have sat with the pain stored in little boxes nestled in the dark
I have clutched at your hand as we exhaled summers breath
I believe the resting spirit will awaken

                when day pushes down night

Sunday, September 18, 2011


throw your heart through every open window

Sunday, July 3, 2011


Tingling the triangle

In my good ear

Feeling my visibility

You can count on my love

The healer

As the moment of wanting


Reality is clear

I am what I don’t see

Gravity catches the dust

And sprinkles the body

With a spirit

That is constantly longed for

Saturday, June 25, 2011


Friendships come in many forms and have many faces.  There are no rules in a good friendship......Below i wrote a year ago taken from words/text exchanged.....

Thanks for making my life better
She smiled
Thanks for coming back into my life in a big way
Thanks for bringing joy to my life
Thanks for caring and sharing
Thanks for believing in me
You are strong and have a beautiful soul
You are amazing and I believe in you
She smiled
Thanks for being you
The you I love

Words by Melanie and Sarah......all with love

Friday, June 24, 2011


On the 20th of August 2010 I posted my first entry on this blog

Its time to give in and let the journey begin.
May I firstly be inspired beyond my minds belief and the inspiration guide my spirit to
There are two key things here GIVE IN and BE AND BELIEVE.  I think (perhaps at times over think) the world.  I am not always convincing in my thoughts and probably at times present myself as less intuitive than in fact I am.  The reason I began this blog was to discover myself through my words and USE the words to speak through the darkness of living with Retinitis Pigmentosa.
A year ago I began the search for other young visually impaired artists, particularly writers to follow and be inspired by and I began following a gifted young woman, Laura Lawson, on Facebook and reading her blog Believing is Seeing.  This was the first blog that I found, ironically I soon discovered Laura too lives her life with RP, she is a gifted artist and was presented with the loss of sight as I was at an age where her life was full and the dreams were budding, the heart was alive and then BANG the"gift" of RP fell in her lap.  Today, on my train journey home from work I read an article that Laura wrote for Motif Magazine, which has cemented me in a place I have never been before.  I have had moments throughout my life where I have known that where I am is right, but after reading this article I felt a sense of self that sits in my heart.

The article is titled Believing is Seeing(page 29)

I want to highlight the word gift because I think that there is a curse of losing your sight when you paint, write, create anything through sight, where you heavily rely on visual cues to provide inspiration, direction and creation and to be faced with losing the key to the creation means you are losing your dream, your purpose,YOU.  However, once working through the grief the realisation is that the loss is also the gain, the gift.  This is because you are forced to open your heart, your mind and your soul to a world that would not have been experienced without the loss.  I personally draw most of my inspiration through what I don't see visually but what I see through my spirit and from this I write.  What I write I admit is not always uplifting and mostly about loss, but for me this is part of the acceptance of the gradual loss of sight.

Yesterday I was trying to work out how I can convince my world how much I have gained through the journey of loss.  I realise its not something I can convince anyone of, its something felt or experienced. For ME I find little joy in struggling visually, but I hope I do make it to a safe place where I can accept that I am NOT just my eyesight.  Where I am at now is still in a mixed up churning river, caught in the current and am trying to swim to the shore of the mean time it is the observations and poetry and hundreds of photos of fading sunlight skies and breaking dawns that will help me to float.

Earlier this week I was told "tell a story" and you know what THIS is my story, the shades of light and dark, the shadows, the fear of loss and being left alone and deserted.

a story
tell a story
feel the words
the fumbling
know the sunshine
wear it like the dress
with the pink button
you know that dress
folded into the yellow
and orange pleats
is the child
who danced
and glided in the air
holding out little hands
she still cups her hands
towards the sky
given away dreams
as the stars fall
from the neatly draped
buring the child in the soul
the rich earth
which feeds the presence
the child never forgets
her heart remains nestled
beside the longing spirit
her love endless
even when the darkness falls
she will remain