Whenever I fell in love
With a receptive woman
She went away
Leaving me grieving
The death of chance
Till another woman came along
Making me hopeful for a while
And then she was no more
I kept up with the pull and push
Of this story till it was too late
To keep up with the intention
And I learned that falling in love
Was but a charming illusion
But a mirage of oasis
And the most beautiful lie.

Societal dependency
A disease disguised as validation
Ruling out subjective truths
The indifferent Universe
Testament for choosing
An autonomous path
Being in the dark, is not a valid answer
For exploration of one's might
One may suffer incessantly
In order to lift the doors
One can never reach the zenith
By succumbing to the norms.

The silent star gazing back at me
Revealing the planted darkness
Creeping up my mind
But when did it get there
Certainly not at birth.

Toward Left or toward Right
Each with advantages and disadvantages
Canceling out the ultimate reward
Of coalescing with Creation
Hence, what must one do
To rise above the mist of understanding
The key lies in the fist of defiance.

I am a rebel with a cause
Forging ahead with the enlightenment
Of conforming crowds.

life is
frame by frame;

pose by pose
skin by skin
smile by smile
frown by frown
love by love
hate by hate
friendship by
friendship,
doubt by
doubt

an awkward feeling
that is buoyant belittlement
watching them converse
directly in front of me

im sharing a space
in contemplation
weither or not i
should leave or not

accumulation of outer thoughts
build the mind of a fragile husk
quietly, they have been shaped
to what they are now; the effects
of a mindless egregore called influence

His list is long— as he pauses on life
and Mount Wellington's shadows shift.
Those stealing life's song out of young shoots
breathe the longest
while his beloved dies young.

Scars bleed droplets, not gushing
like Cataract Gorge
when scratched, or touched afresh;
not given space—
how he was stung is remembered.

He tries to be the sunrise
over Bruny Island,
but redback spiders imbibe shadows
lying dormant
assessing risk, ready to strike.

Wounds murmur in the Tamar River
objecting, having heard it all,
wearing down joy's clouded lightness.
Rasping scrubwrens warn
while falsity sharpens its spike.

Flattery's forked tongue is honeyed
as leatherwood, but synthetic—
He resists its bait, casting it past the Derwent;
his skin crawling at false charm.
He retains his grounded sense of self.

Time doesn't wipe it all clean to heal—
it calcifies into chilled stone
like Cradle Mountain's fissured misted face
with sticks of pine trees burnt
while eucalypt gums regenerate, partially blind.

His garden grows wild now
through rambling cracks
as grasses from a cemetery head-piece
sport defiant blooms
of an unaccepted genus.

Memory is a compass
pointing due north
past Port Arthur's harried walls
and Antarctic gales
as tales of unfinished lives see, and wait—

There are dreams I’ve folded, tucked away tight,
Like old forgotten clothes, out of mind, out of sight.
One dream is my family, proud, happy, and strong,
But in truth, they’re splintered, fighting who’s right, who’s wrong.

Another was of healing, of wearing a vet’s coat,
Or moving the masses with the words that I wrote.
Helping the helpless, animals small and in need,
A life lived in service, a world I could lead.

I dreamt of a wedding, a dress pure as snow,
Walking the aisle, to see your smile’s glow.
I dreamt of a farm, vast and self-sustained,
With crops that thrive and animals well-trained.

But the dream I can’t fold, the one that won’t fade,
Is the thought of a child, a love never swayed.
It’s wrapping gifts from “Santa” late Christmas Eve,
It’s seeing you hold them, as they sleep and believe.

It’s watching them grow, teaching what’s right,
Helping them learn from what keeps them up at night.
This dream, I hold close, though I dare not say,
It lingers with me, every step, every day.

I don’t ask for this dream, nor expect it to be,
But it clings to my heart, a part of me.
Folded, yet vivid, it whispers, not yet,
For some dreams stay alive, though they’re placed in regret.