knowing (March 2009)

prior to knowing is the certainty
of not knowing
where is the love I was born to love

the assure-ity of my destiny
waiting
I am born to love

to complete fullness
in a way that my taste buds recognise
in a way the touch of a hongi persists

for life times and I sense it again
before we have a chance to meet
there is certainty

of our love that spun through me
and all I can do is wait
for the recognition

to settle in my mind
(it’s already in my heart)
and when we do meet

I’m not throwing out lines of introductions
but fish hooks
you know me

if only our words can exchange
this vast idea
of a timeless heart

in polite conversation

who ARE you?
has never been such a big question
when the recognition of our self occurs
~
thank you my timeless one
for being so iridescently you
and shining out the light of all home-comings

I love you
in amongst all the unknowing
this is my certainty

proposal (12 Jan 2009)

you sang the world into existence
a sky so silently blue
came and framed your face

as you composed your proposal
the trees rustled their
appreciation, and I think

every (part of this) body
found a reason to say;
when every cell is dancing

in living excitement – when
full glory is expanding and leaking
out my eyes in the misty river

I say YES. I laugh and the sun
is overcome

together we sit on a newly formed
hill, following the golden
globe pass through one horizon

and continue to the middle of crimson
it hovers in boyant anticipation
and sinks in relief, spilling forth

the blushing sky like a warm
swampy smell of
arousal

we sang so many worlds into
existence with that little word
YES

you’re not missing out (12 Jan 2009)

thank you for being honest
for finding time outside
the magic land

where flags are flying high
and the sky is touching
the earth in iridescent blue

thank you for finding your voice
as a knot needing to be
untied, in the sad I love you

  ‘why did you not take
  me to the top of the mountain
  to see the peaking sun?’

thank you for seeing what is perfect
and what stories are needed
to prove a mind right – how every

fabric of decision that makes you
angry and isolated and lonely, has all
the while a gold thread

thank you that when you found
yourself living in this moment
in acceptance of what is and what happened

that you came to me as the sun and sea meeting

the opposite of staying (13 Dec 2008)

it looks like a child
called Brazil or a children’s book
in possum creek
I can create the world

I want children to see
and taste and be
compassionate as a way
of living

it looks like living
in a community of nomads
to earth, we hunger to belong
and say something significant

like love is the only known
and here we move to and from
and always within
lighting and touching

vast tides of possibilities
like the single drop returning
to the ocean and seeing the journey
to land is contained

and moving to a greater pull and law

staying (13 Dec 2008)

intentional community
invites and open doors
for all sorts of reasons
like an old wives gathering

and sharing favourite recipes
and there’s too much cauliflower
so you’re just gonna have to help me
eat it, and this video isn’t due back

for a week, so feel free to borrow it
and I know how much you
love your boyfriend and you just
need to gush all about him

and now we’re helping build
his compost from scratch, he showed
me how to hammer in my first
nail and saw stuff like a pro

and so it goes in an organic
sense, we are a tribe across town
sharing each other’s dreams
and spirit

for something larger than the whole

the opposite of travel II (13 Dec 2008)

it looks like chance
encounters on familiar streets
an invite, a new face, I fall in love

(it’s only love
at first sight
if you recognise it)

I didn’t call it that because
I didn’t expect it to happen

here
in my backyard
(so to speak)

when you find someone
at home and so obviously
in love

with here, does that mean
the opposite of travel
whatever that may be…

the opposite of travel I (13 Dec 2008)

it looks like a van parked up
on the side of the road
choosing a bay into the sun

away from the wind
- not necessarily choosing
neighbours – they come

with the view, the wind
sounds like the New Zealand flag
across the road – a sow-easterly

contemplating the tide
coming in, wind and water
both want refuge

in the jaggery rocks and all the trees
are pointing in the direction of home
where the seagulls fly

and two hours away my boyfriend
will meet me having extended all joy
and passion on to one little surf board

smaller than a van (just) and we
shall continue down the road
as if we had no place to go

except a setting sun to watch

after we shout (01 Dec 2008)

it was such a grace in amongst
the blurry breath and a clogged up nose
that a giggle escaped
sounding louder; how perfect is life

and diving deeply again
into salty sobs, we find air
in the ocean, and find the ocean
tastes of tears

the shock (1 Dec 2008)

it was more the shock
like I fell in the middle
of an angry midstream
gesture and there was my face
whacking into the back of your hand

it was more a shock
tactic of movement
concentrating all our frustrations
into a single point, a single second
dissolving on the bed
in a heap, face covered
in hair, in tears
coming from somewhere much deeper
than time could dig up

it was the most natural affair
to be crumpled together
abandoning who’s right and who’s wrong
and this doesn’t fit and maybe it could
have been done this way and feeling
so far away from our centres
and to see that our hearts
could not tolerate
such an absence

must! (25 Oct 2008)

like the air full of moisture
not yet rained
like the kitten watching her
  twitching tail

like the vows poised at the
unfolding ‘I do’, we must
  (come together)

it already is

it is not a must that says I want
no desire sits behind what
  simply is, a compelling

natural order, a twin soul
completion, this Must! is a continuing
to be
  together

free will – 25 Oct 2008

there is only free will in the present
if you are in the past
then it was destined to happen
because it did

free will only exists in time
as if there was a before the decision
and an after the decision

remove time
and it always was
and then there is only an appearance
  of a decision

sea sick (24 Oct 2008)

here is a family where conversations are crunching
like an old man who’s decided it’s all
too fast out there, that watches a child

spinning and feels his head and
stomach grind up into his throat
things are said in the long pause of moaning

and the director is saying ‘you will be sick’
there’s no shame in this; it is the
choppiness that push and pull their thoughts

and the sea will play its part
closing down the senses, eyes bulging shut
ears ringing deftness, a salivating dry

mouth, prickly skin going numb, it can
only be the director’s attention
that will make it real and remind

me how differently we all play
the same game

white rocks (18 Oct 2008)

I am delighting in the distant thunder
waves, the sound of water slipping
back into itself and tumbling through

individual stones, the ones at the surface
that care to be polished in the white
churn and sparkling out at

a glance from the sun, or any random
being passing by for that matter, eyes
drawn to the grindings and

shifting swirls, so continuous it becomes
the air, a pulsing breath, the so-hum
of life, in to and out of

view, existence, sound-scapes reflecting
back into itself, and passing through
any being, drawn, his or her

mind finding it still
silence
or a distraction

whatever passed, it is delightful still

heavy moon (15 Oct 2008)

on a day when the moon is heavy
when gravity runs down my pants
when cells are sensitive

to complaining winds and whines
when one word, one cocked-eyebrow
one tone delivered slightly too high

pushes me out of my skin, out there
where life is frustrating the dripping tap, pushing me
out where it excludes ‘in here’

(when will I ever find my self back here
with all the rustling and scattering
of me?) I part the veil between the sun and the moon

and find it is completely, entirely, utterly
as it is, as it should be, it is the full story
it is neither in nor out, it is perfectly

dancing, it has no exceptions
it is only acceptance
it is a day with a heavy moon

tree of life (13 Oct 2008)

take this building
and plant a tree inside
she will grow, don’t worry
all she needs is a kind thought to water

notice her roots are magic
like a divining rod, they seek the pulse of
earth, rich and poor, to give form
to that which shakes

see her arms spread open
receiving every day as her own child
see her tickle the currents and ideas
and with the simplest act, drop them

as the autumn sun takes the shortest path
see her dance
  see her seek light
   see her naked and exposed

baring now ancient wisdom
and scattering leaves like pearls
and pearls like the sage passes down wisdom
see her thickening trunk

pulsate the deep heart from the mother stone
a rose quart(caught) of beauty
a candle’s new flame
see her touch the sky

spreading the blue light from horizon to
horizon, and dappling in fun summers
see her protect all
see her adore the attention

  knowing all the while, she does not exist
see her as ancient
   as ever being
   as invisible beyond worlds

and as large as life
in every dancing cell
see her as perfect
   as your story

and your seed creation
see her as something you watered
  with a spontaneous heart
  and impulsive mind

see that
  and declare:
    I AM SHE

stirrings (13 Oct 2008)

do you feel the wind
whispering, shouting (the same thing)
what will it take?

has the wind become
your restlessness, your creased brow
as you wonder

where it all goes
do you not feel the storms of time
dislodging little bits, only to show

off how very fragile this idea
or that idea is
do you not stop and question how

unimportant the important things are?
how much you take for granted
that this is all there is

can you bring a smile to your face
to know that all you cherish is
immaterial, and that everything is

perfect as it is. Can this contradiction
create a long enough pause
to ask the wind to keep blowing?

it was just a reading (03 Oct 2008)

can a wave of grief come
in the shape of me
as a mother

leaving behind her children
for a greater good? What sort of sacrifice
is laid down to bare unconscious

still borns

is the parting like cellular memory
and twisted DNA, snipped for an Eon
and held in the womb, never to conceive

only an ideation that is post-creation

a small conflict (03 Oct 2008)

your place of pain
my place of passion

travel

you can’t get more poetic
than that

only as a name (03 Oct 2008)

who is this voice
you’re singing a story I wrote
you’re singing notes more familiar

than milk, than my memories
of you, Yes You

I don’t know how you come
only as a name
nothing more

a stranger to my life
I know nothing that brings you
alive, you come as a

broken neon sign
dully outlined and disappearing
at darkness

dreams are more vivid
and they fade quickly

the universe (13 July 2008)

in a boundary, in a border
in crossing a time zone
in stamping a passport
there is nothing left to call
mine, nothing left

in a flag on top of a mountain
in a gold medal ceremony
in a race to the moon
there is nothing left to call
my home, nothing left

in a spinning top, in a rotating globe
in an aurora blue sky, in a fireworks parade
in a heavenly constellation moving, in a line on your palm
there is nothing left to say
beyond words, nothing left

as above, so below
so within, as with out
here and now, as in every where and when
there is nothing left
to say, there is nothing
in it all