"sealers" poems
We walked to Sealers Bay, four of us, all women
Bleeding Madonnas on a pilgrimage in the rain, together yet alone
each to her own journey
Moving like the floods of 2011, ready to take out any obstruction
Mud ******* at our feet, rainforest leeches suckling our blood like desperate children
The rhythm of my feet set off a reverie of how I lost my mind just a moment ago.
I found it again, blood pumping in my ears, heart pounding like thunder
The sweat running down my neck made me think of you…wondering where, how, who?
A futile fancy
Still the rainforest clings to me, my feet echoing on the boardwalk,
the sound of running water filled with tannins
emotions of the forest flowing beneath my feet to Sealers Bay
A beach once stained with the blood of whales lies calm and blue, deceptive
A moment of sunshine found me sprawled on the sand, waves of exertion washed over me
The repose was fleeting.
Nature interrupted sending a shower, and a chill up my spine
A journey is rarely one way and retracing my steps is like retracing a lifetime
…would it have been better if?..
Eventually I turn my mind skyward to a flock of black cockatoos screeching like banshees at the women trudging one foot in front of the other in a winter forest
Nineteen kilometres of contemplation can quieten a busy mind, it is the number of surrender and endurance
The feeling of my toenail lifting in my boot is strangely cathartic
like a mistress, how pain focuses thoughts on the detail
I see tiny red Correas, the *** organs of plants, there for the pleasure of others
My buttocks and calves scream as the incline of the hill steepens, spurring me on
pleasure in pain makes you forget yourself, and the forest
there's just breathe and movement and rhythm
Apr 4, 2020
Apr 4, 2020 at 6:39 PM UTC
At the bottom of the pit
runs a river of spit,
In the subway, rough play
pays out a quid,
Sally's getting pally
with a scally in the ally,
And there's no time to dally
if she wants another hit,
Because it hits the place
that's away from here,
Where the kids don't die,
and the kids aren't feared,
Where poets and dreamers
escape fate sealers,
And the doctors and dealers
are not one and the same.
But when love is laced with
intoxication,
You find no shame
scraping up the pavement,
Twitch the fiction from your lips
when they ask about your kids,
Let them think that your a victim
when your asking for a payment,
Because it hits the place
that's away from here,
Where the kids don't die,
and the kids aren't feared,
Where poets and dreamers
escape fate sealers,
And the doctors and dealers
are not one and the same.
Apr 26, 2020
Apr 26, 2020 at 9:18 AM UTC