Mother Natures Dance

Today I sat underneath an aging spread of European elm trees with my beautiful friend Melanie, trams rattled past in the background, the smell of dust and damp leaves rose between us, boys rode on bikes, kids played in the park, old men strolled through the aging Edinburgh Gardens, the blue of the sky was broken by the white of the clouds and the warmth of the sun.   I know this moment was meant for us because to the naked eye these could have been trees just losing their leaves.  But to us it was like we were being showered in floating flecks of gold, each leaf twirled spiraling downward and toward us, the breeze was like music for the trees and they danced, showering us with golden leaves.   Below I have written a piece of poetry about this moment, called Mother Natures Dance.  

Thanks Melanie, for sharing a pure moment of nature showing its true and wondrous self.  I would not have wanted to share this with anyone else, you reminded me how each leaf was a singular moment of joy to be held onto forever.

MOTHER NATURES DANCE

for Melanie

 With you

I watched gold fall from the branches

Gravity pulled us down

And below the falling leaves

Our spirits were released

I saw the sun catch our hearts

As the wind caught my gaze

And I found floating in the dust

What I wasn’t looking for

I held tight to the stars rising in my throat

Hope washing over my darkness

With you

The leaves did fall

And with you the perfect moment

Fell between us

Strawberry Picking

The underside of my inside

Is stuck between the release

Of breath that carries me forward

To whispers of my running feet

Echoed in the steps of the lyrebird

I fell in love with the current

Caught in your beat

And my heart fumbles

With your northerly wind

Bottled in the glass on the golden ledge

The crack opens oozing light from your pores

And the sunflowers kiss the morning sky

As ghosts burst in my eyes

Scattering the fear of broken dreams

Across your blue that calls for me

HAPPY 2011.....A DEDICATION TO THE PURPOSE IN MY LIFE....

…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…

...in 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, Amie....my 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........

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  http://agnesdorademes.blogspot.com/

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

THE HAPPINESS QUEST

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

Hallelujah

Hallelujah

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.

THERE IS A SOUND....

Tingling the triangle

In my good ear

Feeling my visibility

You can count on my love

The healer

As the moment of wanting

Fades

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

MY LOVE

Upon the shelf

A jar of glass remains

To the brim

Liquid heart lies knowingly

Years of being untouched

Or open

The dust of spirit

Falls and remains

Embedding the jar deep

Buried amongst the past

You stand and observe

Waiting for time

To spell thoughts for you

Adrenalin moves the fragments

Penetrating through the glass

Drowning in loves fluid

You think my name

As you part your lips

A flowing whisper falls

Exhaling

Blowing the dust and cutting

Through the silence

Your love elevates the heart

From the resting shelf

The heart craving you

And not you the heart

THE MORNING TRAIN

The last few days I have been writing a series of different poems, that funnily enough have somehow become connected in some way, they are three separate poems, yet they are one.....my dreams have been vivid and  they have traveled in my thoughts this week

Dawn amongst the

Silent breeze

Broken light

Decorates the blank pages

Colouring the unspoken

Words

Clawing at

Denied thoughts

The heart listening

As silent patience

Stays trapped in a knowing

Place

The asking heart

Sheds its sadness

Sitting lonely

Stitched up from isolated

Pieces of thread woven

Amongst the

                      

              flesh

6:34 the dream felt

Screeching sounds

Like rusty gates

Low hung clouds

Under my foot

As spicy salami lingers

Amongst the sleepers

And the grease shines

On her chin

 Nauseating my heart

My words true

Street lights

Train lights

The light in your heart

Turn off

Archways twitch

Music is played

Held tightly

In a coffee mug

Green flowery dreams

Warm the hands

One more chance

At happiness

His tie of blue

Watching

My love is yours

Caught in the nightmare

Oriental lions protect the

Entrance

Morning light broken

By a thumping soul

The rush of looking for

                        Love

That treks the hills

Looking for comfort

As her cracked lips

Call for the sky to come

Toward you.

Bending on the turn

Slowly pulling away

The book I carry

Bent from the hungry desire

Of being held

Hurts in my hands

Lost amongst searching

Following the ribbon

Draped from the window

The memories wait

Amongst the pages

Of cool water

And sweet lingering perfume

Surrounding the weightless

Stones that sink

As the floatless heart

Is embroidered

With silky wet moss

Seeking approval

That can't be controlled

OH TO BE THE CATTERPILLAR

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



FEAR A FAILING FRIEND

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......

FEAR

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

Greediness

Feeding off a bottomless pit

Leaving me empty

Apart from the beast itself

Purple Cloth

The purple cloth
Draped with silence
Hope breaks each morning
Cracking our souls
With its radiating beauty
Screaming as the winds change
Where is she?
The dream comes with sacrifice
Golden buds held amongst the swarm of bees
Praying for forgiveness
Why am I not good enough for you?
Lost amongst your hurt
As closed eyes flutter
Tomorrow the dawn may hide
Darkness will lead
But I will wait for you
Always....

MY 15TH EYE

Today, with light in my life, love in my heart, my open mind, the desire always for goodness I should have focus and purpose and none of the life squeezing doubts in my presence.  

BUT what happens when all those elements are put to the test and questioned???  Do you dig deeper within and find that extra something?  Do you get yourself drunk and wash the worries away?  Do you embrace the fear and anxiety and give in a roll with the waves of uncertainty?  What do you do, where do you go, how do you see things, better things, forget and reject things, accept them, embrace them, be be be, find, love, search.......or do you just......simple.  Am I wanting too much, when I already have so much.

I AM SCARED.  The past few days have been filled with doubt and questioning.  I visited Vision Australia earlier this week, where I was firstly humbled, being greeted by a visually impaired receptionist, who had co-workers with visual restrictions, and here I was walking into an environment where it was all decked out with visual aids and I felt like I shouldn't have been there. 

But I was meant to be there, possibly one of the first times over the past 16 years and living, dealing and navigating my way through RP I realised that the present and future of my visual life is changing, restricting, closing in.  Caroline who I had my consultation with was lovely, normal and could sense my lack of acceptance with my condition.  We did heaps of tests, there will be further tests, mobility training is being scheduled, "jobs in jeopardy" will take place, and I guess the rest is up to me.

Anyway, without all the in between details once my consultation was over and I walked out, I passed a group of elderly people there for a group session, all covered in smiles and happiness and it was then I realised my deep problem with this is ACCEPTING it, and adapting.  Even though I live with it day in day out, its actually a soul acceptance that I need to have, not just a physical.

So I will search deeper

Here I MUST mention my beautiful friend Melanie, who ALWAYS does her utmost best to push the positive, think the best, embrace the light.  Today she sent me some hope via the cyber world, and basically sending her goodness.   I guess I don't need to be in  fear with her around.

She sent me this link......a blog entry by the great Paulo Coelho, amazing man, amazing blog, and amazing entry.....NORMAL......jolted me back to the light, the warmth and MYSELF

http://paulocoelhoblog.com/2009/01/07/inventory-of-normality/





so my soul searching begins

MY 15TH EYE

Show me your soul

Bear its roots

Its flourishing leaves

The coolness of its breeze

The comforting shadow

Scent of truth

Yearning place of desire

The mouldy crevasse

Crashing waves of happiness

Sowing the seeds of regret

The incomplete action

Half full buckets of dreams

The catalogue of chance

Unforgiving impulses

Hope, caught in a web of denial

The map toward your sun

Memories buried below the weeds

The flavour of your touch

The liquid of your visions

And the beauty in your existence

Golden Kisses

       As the sun rose, the Native American Navajo tribe members would rejoice to the sun

Bluebird said  “Get up my grandchild,

 its dawn” it said to me.

I was born in Spring.  Gold shades mixed with orange of the sun, as it began to fade as I came into the world, the late afternoon breeze caught in the oak trees that lined the street. You died when I was one year old.  You left behind a bluebird necklace for me.  A little bird of cobalt blue stone, with twinkling silver backing.  So small, and delicate.  You gave me the necklace when I was born.  It was just for me.  Is it because of you that I love Spring?  Did you rejoice when I was born?  Just like the Native Americans did for the new dawn?   We had just met and then I lost you, you died.  You died having known me, having loved me.

But I don’t remember you?

As I grew I saw photos of you, and when I look at them I think I know you, your warm face, smiling, a crooked upturning smile, deep coloured eyes and a long slender neck.  I see photos in black and white of you holding my father when he was also one year old, I look like him, smiling with complete freedom, sparkling eyes, full of wonder and excitement, sun hitting his face,  filling me with warmth, colour felt amongst the black and white.  I hear you were my father’s favourite grandmother, he called you Nanna, and I call his mother Nanna.  Stories tell me he used to ride his bike for miles to see you.  Nanna now lives in your house and she drinks from your tea cups, rimmed in gold.  I loved watching her drink from those when I was a young girl.  I imagined what gold would feel like on my lips.  I have photos of her holding me and she is wearing a bright red jumper, and I am smiling, full of wonder.  I am only one year old. 

I wonder if you loved me like he loved you. 

I secretly would play with the necklace.  Mum said she was saving it for me for when I was grown up.  She said it was special.  I knew how special it was because it was hidden away in a draw, a draw of wonder where Mum kept all the special things.  The necklace was special because it came from you. I remember when I took the necklace. I opened the draw and all these beautiful things came flooding out, the smell of incense filled my nose, catching my breathe, small beautiful images of the things Mum kept in there, there were little bowls and pieces of smooth coloured glass, letters written from her mother, her distinct curvature writing, a statue of St Christophe, protect the travellers, and there was the necklace, in a little leather covered box.  Holding it in my small hands, I slowly opened the lid; the bird lay flat on the silk backing.  The iridescent colour of blue shining, it was so beautiful.  Why did I take it?  I held the bird in my hand, tight, drawing breathe and then running from Mums room to mine, I remember just holding it and looking at it.  It was my bluebird.  The bird released from the cage.  It was the bluebird you gave me and I was ready to have it. 

I wonder where you are now little bluebird?  
 

What are you telling me lost little bluebird? 

Are you telling me much more than the lack of your presence?  Can my renewal exist without you in my life?  Will Springtime come again?  Is this showing me much more about my broken spirit, my broken happiness?  Did your grandmother know that when she gave me symbol of happiness that it would slip through my grasp?  Why can’t I remember how I lost you?

One day I hope you fly home to me

FALLING FEATHERS

Inspired by the three words
SHELL
FEATHER
CHARM

For my friend who I believe in very much, she brings light to my life, creates beauty, defines trust....you know it when you have it, it defines you, shelters you, nurtures and makes you believe.....is the friend all people need.

His feathers were at rest
Weary the body begins to fade
Yet the spirit prepares to take flight
Unable to remain with the body
As distant places call him
No longer anything the spirit can give
Goodbye
Taking to the sky
The spirit looks downward
At its empty shell
Shrivelled amongst the sand
Solitary and empty
Feeling his heart pulsating
Wondering can his spirit ever leave
I still love you he whispers
But you are my curse
Goodbye, goodbye my love
Let me leave with grace
Warmth radiates from the remains
He clutches at the charm
That drapes round his neck
The coolness of the stone
Held tight to his chest
Like the memory
Which lingers in the air
The past floating
And layers begin to fall
Salty tears flow from his eyes
As the waves crash against the shore
Remaining the rock and the heart
While the sky above catches on fire
A yellow glow covering his back
Feeling his skin covered in a new warmth
Daylight has returned
No longer held captive by night
He drops the stone
Releasing the past
The last lone feather drops
Spiralling toward the earth
The light caught on the water’s edge
Reflecting the deep green stone
Sparkling inward light
I won’t forget you