Hooray

I'll meet You here today
so that our hearts will get to play.
and our smiles will go back from yesterday,
Oh, yesterday.
Our souls will stretch out far and lay
peacefully quiet in Your welcoming hay.
I'll stay forever, and I'll pray
for others to join us every day.
It'll be my pleasure, I'll say; hooray!

Known

Slow down, everything’s moving too fast:
On a beat that’s pushing forward, releasing the past.
But here is where I am;
The cool morning air gently caresses my skin; sirens sound far off: an emergency of sorts, lives in danger, rescued: comforting.
Yes, there are lists, present problems praying to solve,
But this is a 'lent' moment, and I won’t let that get old. I smile; these are the ones foretold.

It's soooooooooo
cold,
You could snap my toes off 
Like mould,
In  buildings old,
Where erry ghost stories
Will be told…

As I poured my second steamy, frothy coffee,
Pyjamas wrapped, Uggs tapped as I waddled back.
Bed called, not its usual mantra: hide, but confide,
Laid down respectfully, trusting, heeding not to thoughts of lack,
But dreamingly inventing new worlds, opening my heart beyond now, but being very much present.

It is lighter outside now,
Rather than the tar-dark
Of the night.
Cars are streaming past;
Their swoosh is like white-noise,
In the early morn.

Things are relatively static
Right now,
Until then busy-ness of the day
Commanders,
Then colour-blinds
All the senses.

Is writing poetry like my fidget toy?
A warm bath or a workout,
Still-ing, stalling and styling
My next proposition.

the tears are deep,
deeper than my skin.
they come up from the deep,
fears and lost dreams from within.
the tears that come
from all the lives not taken,
the tears are cries
from all the paths mistaken.
the tears were all
the dreams I've shaken
and nothing comes from
but only depression was awakened.
but then the tears were a release
from all the sorrows brazen.

How long —
Have I been holding my breath
Waiting for things to go wrong?

How long —
Have I been
Playing that same old song?

How long —
Will I adopt this pose
Furlong?!

Winter afternoons, when the sun sets soon,
Whiskey shots with a touch of PB spooned,
Takes the edge off —
Those missed moments;
Whispers of ‘not good enough’
And turns them into lessons learned;
War stripes rough —
Psychological scars of the well-lived.

Start Small

Betrayal with empty words and no action, except to line their pockets with the fat from profits.
Profits from products that have served to distract us from what’s important:
Relationships. Relationships with our land, relationships with others and relationships with ourselves.
Meaningful action is what we need. It’s our only hope.
Action stems from hearts connected to the one that gives life.
Change is constant. Climate change is chaotic and killing us slowly,
But part of our cosmic life.
We need to change within and live change out.
No more empty words, empty thoughts, empty hearts!
Just act now in meaningful ways that bring life!
Just start small, but with love.
Just don’t continue to sit on hands that are meant to serve, with love.
Just start; it will suffice.

How sad? that my initial thought,
When I saw a man in church,
Lead youth out, was: how creepy!
I’m sure he is lovely, but even his looks
Made me lurch,
within myself, and yell: it’s not safe!
This distorted world robs innocence,
Smashes precious platforms and
Hijacks joy.
How do we restore this;
Elevate hope again?
All I have are questions, no answers.
How can we better love ourselves and one another?
How can we extend compassion?
It starts with ourselves!

In the silence,
A scream came forth from nowhere.
Not prompted by anything or anyone.
It startled me, at first,
As the tremors reverberated in my body, still.
I pondered its origins;
A groan of all the screams I've suppressed
Leaked out:
Layered losses claiming their voices.
With their release, came space,
And grace…and strength and power.
I'll harness, to use in this hour.

Change me like a Rubik’s Cube

Can we taste glory, not shame?

Faith is a full-sensory experience;
Enliven our senses today that we may claim Your glory.

We often live deep in our thoughts,
Surrounded by the shame
Of this world.
Tasting the fruit of evil,
But You are calling me to life.

Love me; shower me with Your sunshine,
Change me like a Rubik’s Cube,
And free me
From the entanglements
Of my shame.

May I never be the same!

I’ve fought hard to get back to work,
But the real work I needed to do,
Was tend to the grief, deep inside.
There’s no job description for this role,
But there are tasks to complete.
Strategising won’t help,
But being brave will keep,
And giving in to just being there…
With the pain,
With the numbness, and grief;
the overwhelming ache,
For new life to come.

Ahhh!
A hoarse scream leaps from my body —
An ‘oral' stage clue;
A non-verbal prompting that my inner child is overwrought.
The endless stream of capitalist-driven sanctions
Force me into action.

Yet, I revolt --
And write
p o e t r y.

I slid down a hill of leaves,
It looked strong and stable; first fable!
But alas, I didn't realise there had been rain the night before—I'd been off on another escapade, unaware.

I then was late to my walking track,
So I ran to meet my pack
But rolled my ankle
In a flurry of activity, snap!

From limping round
Then, jumping on my bike
In order to get to work on time,
It was off the chain that this rhyme came, bespoke.

Life is never the same
When you reflect,
And try to explain
Cause and effect.

I have several large, red chillies
Stored away in my freezer,
Awaiting the next time
I chop them up and smash them in my blender -
I will load in brown sugar, caster sugar when I have none,
A squeeze of lemon, or lime,
And then I eviscerate until slender.
Will the frozen chillies transform the taste and texture?
Or will they wilt, weathered and wounded by the dramatic snap,
And make the taste lacklustre?
Or send my tastebuds into an all-out baritone rap!

As the world waits, expectantly,
For that unruly, invisible strain
Of fear to seep back from whence it came,
Or obliterated, vaccinated intelligently.

Poetry
May seem a solitary
Pursuit.

But,

In every
Poet
There is a myriad
Of multiple memories,
Classic characters
Distorted demons
Vying to be released beyond the vault.

To take root

In your minds and hearts

Forever a part of you,

And me.

Cold isolation,
Hibernation, and intense fascination,
With self. I needed to do this to reclaim the lost, broken-hearted, and wounded parts of me,
Lonely seasons bring out despair: depression, desperation.

But then things crack and light streams in,
Warmth and life overpowers darkness, enveloping,
With love, grace, a heavenly face that wipes away every tear and love wounds that trace
The maker of our seasons, the one who writes new story endings.

Liberation is a fire that burns deep within, new rumblings, in the heat of new adventures,
New maturity emerges, new insights replace old that are purged,
There is freedom here, new dreams spark, courage is abounding in my inner nature,
New possibilities are seen, tasted, and felt,
Small steps evolve into giant leaps into the future.

To stabilise all this growth, you have to take stock,
Step out of the spotlight, and tend to the flock.
It’s time to reflect, marvel, and enjoy, all the moments in life: good and bad,
And embrace the confidence of standing on firm rock.

From this place, I step into my reward,
Rejoicing that all things are made new, on his accord,
New wisdom is found: pockets with pearls, lavish plunder, so different from the darkness that once hung,
But now I fight my battles with a double-edged sword.

Fear is the only thing that will keep you from the truth,
So is self-consciousness the only thing we should fear?!
Just relax…

Last intensive, last counselling lecture, last semester, last chaplaincy subject…
Last—
This won’t last, soon it will be in the past, right now I can’t wait for it to fly fast,
But I’m sure, sometime, in the not to near future,
I will look back with forlorn, how could it go so fast?
The future looms,
I need to zoom out, hold the prospects lightly, noticing how they feel…
I feel!
Exciting, overwhelming, the usual anxiety-producing sensations.
Could there be another way to feel about the future?
Could there be faith in the unfathomable, not too distant future?
Could the unknown become my friend, inviting me to see new possibilities?
Welcoming risks for pure bliss?
From this vantage point, it has flown,
But I know there have been times when it just felt slow, and my spirit groaned.
So, can I sit here, in the now, embrace the future full of confidence?
I am here now!
Four years ago the challenge loomed,
Felt like carrying bricks up Mount Everest: impossible.
But here I am. I am here.
Celebrate, clap and cheer
the impossibility is thus so near.
It whispers: come closer, lean in, don’t be afraid, peer…

Lovely beings, made in love to love;
Superfluous act? Heavenly fact.

How sweet are Your lips that speak life;
Hope sparkles like rubies and gold.

poetry percolates
in the unconscious
waiting for a triggered start.

poetry then lays dormant in the body
until it's ready to surface
in the heart.

Be.
Beautiful.
You are.

Swoosh, zgrrrr, yahooo, zooom!
I am full of vibrations;
****** energy pulsing in my womb
and veins, “I am alive!” they exclaim.
I’ve wanted these sensations to quieten,
they’ve driven me, frustrated to no end: to the end?
But now, can I see, them as part of me, don't frighten,
Welcome and celebrate them?
Alive to make sense of the sensations,
Alive to play with them, hear them, feel them,
notice them go up and down,
Alive to embrace as me: now found. Amen.

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.

Can I go one day without doubting?!
One day without posting?
One day without coffee?
One day...
BUT
I will not go one day without seeking,
One day without praising,
One day without
YOU

I am enough,
I am tough,
I won’t lay down without a fight,
I am bright,
And if you don’t stop, I’m going to get rough!

You are nothing,
You are smothering,
You try to spread lies,
To make me panic and cry.
You think you're big, but I know the One who is enduring.

So I look to Him,
Breaths calm, anxiety falls back from the brim,
I can change,
I will focus on the feelings that don’t feel strange,
But on the One deep within.

Loved

I am…..




                                                     …LOVED.

I always feel
like I am behind.
Like everyone else knows
The secret, or look at me
with those kind, sad eyes...
"You'll get there, honey...
in 10 years' time."

Okay, so maybe
I am a little beyond.
I come to things so **** late.
But at least I own my mind.

I choose my way!
Even if it's a pebbled path in the desert...
That goes round and round,
and round in circles so things aren't unlearned.

But when I look up;
take my nose out of a book,
I see that I am still reading Jane Eyre
other than cinematic thrillers with never-ending hooks.

Even today,
As I ponder this profound?
thought, I make sure I slurp coffee, [yay!!]
observe with all my senses, surround...

The air sagged,
Like an old and ***** blanket.
If mothballs had set in it their tapestry,
That may have been a delight, 
And a slight respite from the 
Grey and wrinkly clouds that 
Stared dreary-eyed offering
No hope but empty promises:
You will be fruitful again!
When?!

Deep darkness, despair.
How could you know, you’re not there?
Empty mind I crave,
But constant chatter takes me to the grave.

Fleeing, running; working, studying, drugs, and stuff,
Distractions from revelation; I am enough.
Progress is prized; the final nail,
We need true clarity; the holy grail.

Opening out and up to the mystery unknown,
Here, flourishing can become our own.
Insights of the true us,
Found when there’s nothing, no sound, no ***...

Embracing loneliness can be the pearl sought,
Moving away from things ought,
Turning to the unknown,
Is where true dreams are sewn.

I
Try,
Over and over
Again.
I
Try,
Over and over
And over
Again.
I
Try.
I will
Not
Stop.

From nowhere...
I started singing:
"calling you forever..."
and in my spirit, I heard the reply...
"I've been calling you forever!"

Gratitude
Is Goodness ****?
Noticing goose pimples, because
I think it’s the heart of noticing the Holy Spirit, attuned.
Resilience; overcoming the setbacks
in life and spinning them into gold dust.
Rejoicing in difficult times;
Fear, and expanding into ever-increasing wanderlust.
Faith;
Play like no one’s watching,
giving legs to the dreams you’ve been harbouring
in your heart
Persist and resist the shameful stares and unrealistic expectations; depart.
Start a new and see your dreams through.

Where did the phrase:
“I don't give a ****,”
Come from?

Were they referring to a dam, literally
Or figuratively?

Was it Clarke Gable
in the black and white classics?

Was it everyone,
Cried out in pain
and defence;
Massicistic?!
Or was it defiance;
Claiming what they wanted
and not caring what others gained
or lost?!

Wherever, and whenever, it came from
I don't give a ****!

It's a very visceral phrase,
And gets to the heart of the matter.

Why do I walk?
For exercise;
For an influx of oxygen?
No.
For poetry’s sake —

Each step I take
Unlocks thoughts from the deep,
And I reach in to take a peep.
What peers back
Is not a gasp,
Not a rasp rattling:
“Get back to walking!”
But a friend, 
Who hears my thoughts
And welcomes them —

Who says: once more,
“Yes! Here we go again”
And by the time I stop
At my destination,
I've taken those steps,
And released my vocation
With unequivocal elation —

Dear Rosemary,
Your scent is so lovely;
Piney and fresh
I want to mesh
Your menth with mine,
You taste really divine 
With lamb, red wine and more
You linger in my garden galore.

We transition in-and-out of moments;
In and out of life,
In and out of lives.

Sometimes, we transition with ease,
With poise,
With grace.

Sometimes, we transition with wounds;
Defences up —
And ready to attack before they hurt you back.

I am scared right now,
And my defences are wall high;
Self-imprisonment —
So that I don't get hurt,
But I'm hurting in here, all alone.

Are all our words
enchanting works
of witches--
We wield them into submission
while we drink
from others'
intoxicating feasts
of fruits;
blood, sweat, tears from the gloom
And words hidden in remission?

Being me — 
Truly me, flaws and all — 
Glory and all — 
Opening my eyes to see.

Accepting: exquisitely me — 
Yet filled with sin — 
Not holding back, but fully accepting — 
Having a measured conceptual aid; see — 

Forward-thinking, but living now — 
Grateful breathing — 
Cheekily teasing — 
Knowing the past; living in the now.

Kaleidoscope of moments — 
Divine yet, still fall short — 
Seek The Source, by whom our heart is fraught —
Community, not nomads.

Even though I hold a bouquet of regret,
I shall not fret --
        Because You will ensure
        I never fall.

I just overheard,
A gentleman slip out casually:
“We all have our secrets…” And I paused,
Self-reflectingly,
“Yes, i’spose we do…”

When one quietens, life speaks.
In silence, the volume turns up on that which we are too busy to hear: birds bleeping, frogs frothing, lambs leaping and the wind whispering in our ears; the
Soul booms: remember me, I'm all you truly have
Listen.

I am reflecting all the time,
On every interaction, 
On every weather pattern,
the only way I make sense is through rhyme.

If you meet me, I'm an excellent listener,
And I'm working double time,
Thinking about your response and mine,
Sometimes, the inner critic takes over,

Derailing me off course 
For a moment or two,
My poetry can get blue,
Telling you the worst.

But, thankfully, these days,
I'm happier and true,
I keep my mind new, 
getting the thoughts out saves.

I am grateful for this new pastime,
And learning constantly.
I've become more free,
And congruent; with my original design.

I thought it was just me,
The only one with the problem --

The only one having issues,
Everyone else seemed to be alright --

But, then I find out later,
Much later,
That it wasn't just me,
That you, too, were also stuck --

Going around and round
In circles;
The ****** loop
Of (self) alienation --

It wasn't just me,
It was you too,

You were also fighting
the invisible blocks;
Bad gateways,
Stuck spirals...

Out there trying to figure it all
on your own.

when I look back, I'll see,
the steps I took to become me.

the smell of freshly cut grass;
so infamous that companies
have tried to bottle it a mass
but it doesn't include the many
mud, smashed sticks, twigs
insect bits, that accumulate
and get thrown in the trash.
the smell of success!

What is that saying?!
“All good things must come to an end.”
Jehovah Jireh, You are never ending
And, Your love knows no bounds.
You are outside of time,
And this world.