dry.

well, if this is to be called over,
and theres nothing left that i can do,
For i can’t burn or blow away or run you off your land,
I can’t remove from you this love lost adieu.

so i will traipse around our love nest,
wiping wet tears from my eyes,
and turn on all the taps
to let the tanks all run dry.

Cause i have no power here,
other than the love and loss with which im now accursed,
and love is the truest thing i know,
as it claims my only thirst.

our hands intertwined as we planted seedlings,
early in our days living here,
every sun lit moment and moon shone night
was as if written in a love struck play, tracing out our tears.

we pushed the worlds fences aside
striving for what we know to be our hearts true right
we’ve fought and held each other tight,
finding peace in each other by night.

but now these years have waxed and wained,
and our love has all run dry,
as painful as it is to see,
i know this time, i see it in my heart
is the time that i must fly.

so i know i have no power left,
to scream or rant, or fuss or fight,
the pain, the guilt, the bargaining,
are all silent, and dark, hidden away in the night.

so i will wander about our small love nest,
with a dull fire in my eyes,
and turn on all the farm taps
to let the tanks all run dry.

for your love is my water,
that which i live and die and need,
and if my heart is dry and dusty,
then so indeed shall be your tea.

neighbours

on so many days of my life
have i come home and shared my days story with you,
and you, with me, yours.
you have listened to me whinge,
guffaw, snort with laughter;
seen me crawl in drunk,
embarrass myself,
supported so many of my gigs and been such a supportive friend.
you have encouraged me,
and most importantly,
assured me i am not insane, or losing my mind,
when all about me, i felt the world was inside out and upside down.
i have been inspired by your early nights, and early mornings,
and your get up and go,
toward life, work, love and … i don’t want to use the word, but, sport.
On so many a days my heart has been warmed by the thought of you in the home where i have live.
i am honoured to be your friend,
as among the bunch of people the i have met, that are your friends,
i know you you pick them wisely, and i glad im one of them.
cause theyre all classic!
i know we wont see each other nearly as much,
but i hope we both Make time to hang,
cause youre just freakin awesome.
and youre is a friendship i do not want to loose, ok!
i hope i have been even half the amazing listener,
reassurer and sweet friend that you have been to me.
i will forever more try to be as well.
you’re the queen.
thank you.
xx

pure will.

If you’re gone,
i have no one to tell my secrets to.
and all the cliche things i have to say
have no home to not be so astray.
best friends and worst friends aside,
your ‘sionship has no name
you dont need a title
when you can pick it up from a decade
and a world away.

Circling a pyramid,
searching for the sea,
looking to see something simple
that sounds like love and need.
pushing all the memories
into a small memory time cap,
and then just go ahead,
and post it with a stamp.

sitting beneath the grand old southern saint jude,
with the grass and all the fleas,
looking into eyes of innocent passers by,
wondering how it was
i could be so far
and this world could feel so wide.

so i went to donate blood,
to help out a stranger in vain,
the meeting of people
in the middle of their worst day,
but they turned us away,
and sent us to call an old friend,
use this time to connect,
she said,
as i huddled in my car,
and dialled your number
to hear you pick up from where we left off,
last time i was where you are.

so play your song,
and i played it loud and strong,
and I dont wait to the end
to harmonise your favourite
cause our lives are only so long.

please don’t fall

san fran jam…..

Please dont fall about me when im gone
let the world be safe-place
when im gone
let men be wise and consider their fate
let women open hearts and welcome the rain
please let the world be safe
while im gone.

please leave the tree standing when im gone
let the leaves flow free – free from blue paint
and freedom whole im gone
let my nan sit safe by her rose bud tree
let the fog be thick
and the flock be need
let the house stand tall
when i’m gone.

please don’t fall please dont fall.
please don’t fall please dont fall.
please don’t fall please dont fall. No.
please don’t fall ooohhh.

we must go out to see the fate
cant stay home to twiddle our thumbs over the human race
im no bigger nor strong than a penny in the ocean
but my love for you is as strong as that notion

breathe deep for me while i am gone
breathe deep for you as you travel on
we hold our heads high as we gracefully slide
sunset of this life and time

breath and be strong while iam gone
do my best to hold my light while im gone
smile into the eyes of strangers to recognise those
that are less advantages
to leave the threat of human beings
out there while i am gone.

please dont fall, please dont fall, please dont fall,
No.

silver steeples

For all the things with pretty tops
and ugly bottoms
driving through corn fields
in my air conditioned bit humoured cottons,

watching skies rumble and fall
and hurrying for it all,
as it ain’t half as real as real life
rushing to write
forgetting days and nights
life’s gone on by and then its gone
and im going to wish i could remember it all.

but theres no way it will fit in my heart
only silver steeples
with their smiling peoples
helpful hugs and the sun.
only daydream eyes
and views from on high,
no tiresome memory will bring it undone.
no ugly ones.

for when we look back
and count the ways
the sun seemed so perfect
in all her rays,

for a truth we hide down,
in a secret story held,
the sick and the tardy have no heaven here.

…..
silver steeples
with their pretty serene,
sitting atop things for which i have not seen,
glinting in the sunlight under a storm so thick,
it made me want to turn my path
and run home so fast.

but head down and we plunder on.
following signposts and spotting features,
so as to remember them if we’re lost
and retreading our feels here.

holding onto the stories as distant memories
to remember only,
the silver steeples please.

related.

if you stare at me long enough
do i start to seem
like a face youve seen
like a word
seems stranger
the longer you sit
and you begin to wonder
if its all
related.
is he my brother
is that her uncle
are they family
havent i been here before.

and im itching to sing
with you again
you know my thought sometimes
before i say.

in harmony before the note is sung
your beat catches my hand
as my heels fail me
and im down on the bend
mountains reaching up
a whilrpool of jurassic motion
a lifelong flower
conservatory plan.

and is the moment you will return to my friend
when you cant sleep
sweating in your lower east side den
this roller keppalated poem of love song
this perfect moment of being
thirty someone.

spoon love.

if your definition of happiness
is directly proportional
to whats on your spoon
then we need to realign
our
definition of happiness
to heights of kites
and the stars and the moon

i get that we need to feed
our
wencelas with delight
but i can not lose sight
of the air i breath
music
or art.

feed me
senses evenly
let me balance between finding
new ways to carve out a free me
i have brothers and sisters on the street
not holding a tear for me
or sending a thought for a lover
or reach out to another
stop beating on your other
and step free.

bookshop lost.

if you find yourself here
standing between the bookshelf of self help and cds of desire
if you find yourself here
on that ole googleplex of change
on the boardwalk to empower -
lost.
willing to put your plastic on anything that will give you The answer
you find yourself
snuck out at night
howling at the moon
the endless question
when will i get it right

walking blindly to your store
gotta get a half pint of milk for that super sweet granola
find yourself versing on the stoop with a stranger for an hour
they have that glint in their eye
you can see they have found it in an earlier

the bluebird you seek
the sparrow on the shelf of the future you need
in an unknown hour
walked home in a daze
washed with a gaze
your world flipped again
laughing at the accent of your worldly lover.

you seek
the right
you search
the arrow
you climb
a caramel tower
the sugar of life
that poem – the answer.

do you need me to tell you?
you already know it
you dont need to lean in
only instigate your gate tower.
i can give you tools and forks
and paths to wander.
but you already know all the reasons
you yeild to linger longer.
the doubt in power
the conditioned
the hungry laugh under which you cower.

our first step
your first word
that initial intake and cry of lifes arrival.
that carnal call i heard you shower
on a hospital of theres no more waiting in this tower.
follow that
follow your blood flowing and the steps worth taking
take it
like a bass line breaking
take the step youre scared of taking
its no jump
and you wont fall
only solo for a while
il be here to witness you burn
stars lonely flight down through a gaseous world. night.

the only constant is change

how many eyes do you need to look into
to see the absurdness in your cool?
to see the hurt caused in your world?
to reach into your strength of all
man woman and power
to change that thing which you desire?

dont let it soak a minute longer
dont let it hurt you a minute longer
dont let it scream any louder
dont let it be your problem on your only shoulder

a difference?

so slow to grow.
so easy to die.
pandanus reaching out to the telegraphed sky.
and now.
we’re draining the earth from her very backyard
now i am.
with my own very hands when i come home from my version of a long day
and reach for my heater
and pay for my electricity with a cost i thought was so easy to bear
but i dont want it to kill my children.
not my hands.

what would make this make a difference?
if they were building a nuclear power plant,
in my main street.
would i head down there with my big socks and put up a fight?
would i write a letter?
would i write a song?
would i call my mum and my dad and my cousin,
and ask them what can be done?
because,
you and I,
my human friend,
we have made some bad decisions in this place.
and youd think when we look around we would know better.
just to look ourselves in the face.

but mr nuclear power and mr fracking man,
he’s not sitting there all eager and hungry and all evil stares.
he’s thinking
how can i give these people what they want?
how can i get something from nothing,
with the littlest cost?
how can i give them their cars and tvs and arctic submarines?
he’s thinking,
ive done it for so long with black gold,
what can be wrong with another stupid hole down under a pristine land….

what could make this make a difference?
if we started handing out cigarettes to 5 year olds instead of balls and beaches.
if we made it ok to not attend school.
if we abolished the need for fresh food and sleeping.
if we took away water. and sunlight and air.
made you pay for it with every cent of your despair.
if we made it illegal to listen to the radio.
if we kept your puppy out of every market you know.
if black people had to sit in a special part of the bus.
if women were not allowed to work or fight or fuss.
if people who loved each other were made to stay apart.
if everything you know. got worse and worse. and then was just to fall apart.

you’d stand up and have your say.
wouldn’t you?
right?
then why are we sitting down,
and letting fracking have its way.