Closed for Renovations    1969 -   
Can I respectfully ask that you revisit some of my older poems... If the renovations don't go to plan they are soon to be demolished.
Can I respectfully ask that you revisit some of my older poems... If the renovations don't go to plan they are soon to be demolished.
6 days ago

I feel the itch,
I try not scratch
scratches can heal themselves
cuts are not the answer
especially cuts made
by someone else

picking at the scabs
only creates a scar
now I only wonder
where you are

pick, pick, pick
scratch, scratch, scratch

you're just a memory
of an unwelcome rash

I run my hands
upon my skin
and try to exorcise
foreign anomalies

That would be
the traces of
your fingertips
which I continue
to feel upon me

pick, pick, pick
scratch, scratch, scratch

you're just a scar, upon my skin

I wish you were just a memory

7 days ago

so today I said see you later
to a huge piece of my heart
I said talk to you later
and then my world fell apart

I wanted him to be a man
to celebrate the right of passage
instead I texted him within hours
only to receive this message

I am here in Room 203
Tell Chell that I love her please

(because he loves his baby sister
above all things)

and I know I have to let go
of the man that sent me those words
but if anything ever happens to him
they will be the last words I heard

He is my baby boy
a bird, just learning his wings
I'll forever be, Mama bird
wanting to be his everything

My 18yr old son is at Schoolies, his first night away from me in an environment I'm not comfortable with... Trust is a fragile thing...
Nov 20      Nov 20

Winter brings crystal tears
that forms on eyelashes
that never once blinked

Eyelashes upon eyes
that stare silently
at your retreating back

Unblinking in a snow storm

Winter brings a quietness
where I stared at your back
and yelled

Don't walk away, please stay
I'm so cold without you
Landscapes of white are faded
taking away the sparkle of the jewel

Don't walk away, please stay

I'm screaming silently
to a retreating back
in a snowstorm

a back with shoulders hunched
a back which has no face
a back which is retreating
from an unmarked time or place

as snowflakes fall upon hair
they melt beneath the burn
no breathe could I take to lie
The cold I expected would make
it a lesson that I should learn

Instead the mist of Winter
escapes my frozen lips
all that came out as a whisper
was this,

Turn! Please, just turn.

It's less cold if you look as you walk away otherwise you leave the other in a perpetual Winter
#love   #dream   #lost   #reality   #winter   #goodbye  
Nov 11

I've got no one to see these tears
any one who cares to wipe them away
I'm afraid they'll just drip down
from my eyes and I'll simply drown
because I don't know who to talk to
If I had a friend I might be able to call
I'd struggle with what to say to them
Sure, I've got family, with their own problems
who would only want to say
You'll be okay, it's alright
I don't really know what to say
I just cry and cry and cry
the tears won't stop falling
they're like Winters hug
and Summers kiss
they fall hard and fast
until they are just mist
that glass my eyes
just a hint of sadness
that people find easy to ignore
but they continue to fall
while I wipe them away
they fall silently and blindly
to those that look away
but yeah, if I had someone
to talk to...
The tears would burn less
like acid and maybe, just maybe
they would evaporate
and go away...

Nov 9      Nov 9


so silently
you tip toe
through the minefields
of everyone else's fears
and share them
so they become
a problem halved
then you wander off
to find another
that cries with no tears
and sit beside them
reminding them their fears
are shared by others
all the while
reliving your own heartache
knowing if only
just one person would take
the salt of your own tears
and mix it with their pain
there would be
Margaritas for everyone!
and we could all
just breathe again

an amazing presence on a site that sometimes tends to disassociate... cohesively, SPT is like glue. This is my Thank You :)
Nov 8

Dear Life,

you're not worth it

Nov 7

you stood beside the closed door, hand outstretched, ready to turn it but, I'm the only one who noticed
her perfume that lingered, lipstick
stains upon your fingers and hair
that I once ran my fingers through
but true, you stood there silently
head bowed, eyes lowered,  
shoulders held so very proud
and you owned it! You owned
every second of the last dance
and as you pulled away from my
embrace you stopped, tilted you
head and said,
I never wanted
anything less more, than to walk
out this door

I laid my hand over your fingers that continued to grasp the door and kissed lips that I've kissed a thousand times or more
and tasted only your regret, wondered if what I had to say was topical or simply emotional and I asked you the most important question I had left inside, a dire need to be said
Don't forget... A FUCKING thing

I twisted the knob until the door opened wide, put my foot on your arse and kicked with everything I had left inside
I saw you tumble, I watched you fall,
I photographed into my memory
the instant you realised
you had it all

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