you know those hills
that you take with
your car
and it sends your
guts into your heart?

yeah, i wanna
live life
like that.

have you heard the wind
the trees rustle
the wings fly by
the sea roar
watched the mountain
and wonder
sink down
on your knees
knowing this is life
the end the beginning
we are no more
than a bird a mountain a tree a leaf
a wave crash on the shore
a shell
maybe a sunrise
or a moon on the horizon
but nothing more

the love i had for you
existed in deleted poetry
beautiful, but not for the world to see
because cruelty broke the reality
that, for a moment, led us by

and i wonder
if you still stay awake like how we used to
like i do now
hoping... that one day
i'll love you again

When this skin
was young and ironed,
well it fit,
like new things do;

that was then
but now I find
the cracks within
are showing through.

Poetry is art
A blank canvas and a brush
We paint with our hearts

soggy bottomed shoes
encase wrinkly tender feet

it's been raining solidly
for more than a week

the towels all smell
of mould and mildew

the carpets more mud than wool

the vegetable garden
is accsessed by canoe

and the fire just splutters
cause of the water in the flue

we have gathered a menagerie
of frogs and spiders on the
front porch, there is a sugar glider

and still it rains....and the rivers flow high
gosh what I would give to see some blue sky