You’re not going to make it,
You can’t,
You won’t.
Give up.
The expectations are too high,
You'll have to fake it!
Come back down to earth.
The ego taunts me with dreams,
And I feign interest by capturing their record.
But why bother?
What will they amount to?

Possessed with the urge to do;
Can't settle until things ensue.
Reminding myself of the past; all shall be fine,
You can play, you have time!
Life ebbs and flows,
release the shakes, and go,
Wade in the waters,
Go where there are no borders.
Grieve,
And believe.

Mystery;
That is faith.
But can we have faith
in this world?
When it is so broken;
How did Michael Jackson’s face change?
Struck me while I sat
In church wondering the mysteries
Of the world.
Was it he who changed,
To fit into the world?
Facelifts: nip here and tuck there?
Was it nature?
Pigmentation malfunction?
Or us, who could not handle change,
That made him alter to
Make us feel less uncomfortable?
How different have we become
To make others feel safe,
But in doing so,
Fundamentally,
Lose ourselves altogether?

Winter falls, casting a white lace undergarment
of frost on the morning ground.
Time of death, dormancy, dependence.
What am I to give up in this season,
Ready for the rebirth that is to come again?

What is true and what is false,
Swirls all around, sending us Into the abyss.
Off course, from our source,
We need to disconnect, from that source.

Cone back, retract,
and realise that
All you need is within you
Right here and right now

Don't fret and regret,
While trying to get your needs met
By others and in
Things,  that will never last.

All I need is within me right now
All I need is within me right now

Discipline your tongue
From lashing out at yourself
And others. Tame
It into a calming balm.

Don't fret and regret,
While trying to get your needs met
By others and in
Things,  that will never last.

All I need is within me right now
All I need is within me right now

Poems pepper every waking wonder,
all peccadillos are fodder,
for poetry potting mix.
Perfectionism once the precipice,
although still my poking stick,
creativity is my ignition, really revs my engine,
and, I hope will burn brighter.
Poems take me away, far far away,
to a world so wonderful,
I wake up thinking of no other.

Does creativity require an audience?
Or is it just ok to be?
I ask this to the Master for concordance,
Because I want to learn how to see.
Your intention behind creating us,
And how You made me?
I feel You’re ok with my questions, thus
I’ll keep asking till the curiosities flee.
Please help me channel this inner drive,
For answers, peace and intimacy.   
How can we harness,
And share Your revelations purposely?
For lives saved, inflictions healed,
And eyes fixed Heavenly.

If my thoughts can lead
To depression,
And from our thoughts, we speak,
I revolt against my thoughts;
I have become my joy!
My heart fills, and
I am full of love,
My posture lifts,
I am full of hope,
My movement quickens,
I see opportunities, and
I will become my joy.
I am joy!

Mother;
Mothering? Smothering?
do we need to re-mother?
Love of another?
Enduring legacy of
Loss and despair,
Acceptance, love and joy.
Reconciliation.
Mother;
You help us to recover,
Hope for more to come,
And life to enjoy!

Open your eyes, and
Come out from the darkness. 
12 years have passed,
I’ve forgotten you from long ago.
I am sorry for dismissing you, 
Now, I want to put you on show.
12 years, since the coma,
Wake up, and
Live.
Now. Go,
Breathe.
You can do it,
The journey is not over,
It's only begun.
Each new day is a new life,
You can now sleep, knowing there’s more to come.

Grief is like being drunk...

Hungover with grief; the heavy cloak of love
Cutting you off from reality,
Cocooning you, all the while changing you.
Surrendering the struggle, to survive
Paradoxically helps you thrive.