Rainbow Hippyvan

Let’s get out of here, you and I.
Grab a hippyvan and surf the coast.
Doesn’t matter how far we run;
just carry on towards that rainbow connecting heaven to earth…
the promise of a more vibrant tomorrow.

Photo taken on the Hume Hwy, NSW

As you wish

As you wish…

I found these two in conversation in Erskineville yesterday. Seated on a roll of lawn behind the railway station, he seemed to have forgotten for a brief moment that they were just dandelions.

She was gazing into the setting sun, murmuring of her aunt’s tales of wild grass on lonely expanses of the Southern Highlands. She dreamed of morning mist drifting through temperate bushland and glimpses of snow-capped Brindabellas – a world away from terrace houses and drunk emo teenagers staggering from the back-end of King St.

The orb of sunlight captured in her crest of seeds dazzled him. As much as he desired to hold her, he knew by her full-bloomed sway that he could not keep her. Her heart was alight for foreign lands, and he couldn’t help but bend to hide his empty frame.

Carry Me

Find me
Carry me forward
that I may carry you also
In my frailty
Wrap your body round me
as I wrap you in mine

I need an ally beyond
this modern discontent
A feeling state from past-time
An arena where hand held mine
And tender hearts beat beat
Nudging you and I
out to face the rest of them

I lie
Warm and comforted
Cold and terrified
Displaced and unaware
of the nearness of your thoughts

Make it easy for me
In this social disenchantment
Make it more than an educated hope
that you still remember
The time I carried you home


n’t even have t
he memo
ry of an ex love
r to fill the gap
ing hole t
hat needs secure
ity and the reassure
ring touch that the
re is so
meone in this mess
y, confuse
sing world that love
s me, knows me, a
nd would cry if I did
n’t come home to
night. W
hat should I Do


I wish that you were stronger
That hearts could bend, not break
To stay a little longer
And see what we could make

Germinate this friendship seed
Buried under words that bleed
From a calling crying heart
Branded by your mark

You spoke in just a whisper
The last I heard was silence
Open spurn is crisper
Than withdrawn cold defiance

And so I enter knowledge
Of a place already known
Through old letters forage
With none to call my own

Why must I sit in exile
Anna don’t you know
My heart is slow to travel
My trust needs time to grow

I wish that I were stronger
To know just who I am
Reveal my heart as fonder
And grasp your parting hand

In Your Eyes

In your eyes I see your smile
Photograph speaks a
Gentle heart un-presuming
Not needy for attention
But seeking connection

With my eyes closed
I see yours open
Baby-wide with innocent regard
Black-lined blue set on
Oyster pearl

Behind your eyes I feel I know you
Or wish perhaps to trust you so
And from the inside
Look out through your eyes
See how you see my soul

Sometimes a yearning enters me, like an illuminating bubble that soap-shines and sparkles energy into an otherwise too-familiar grinding drive to stack box upon box, deed upon deed, believing that someone will love me through these words. But writing is my lover, my solace; patient with my idealism, delighting in my childlike take on the world. Writing is my mentor, the one who expands my capacity to imagine a future worth living.

Sometime Beautiful

something beautiful
it’s something real
the time i fall apart
you will roll me into one

you took me by my knee
a touch that broke my lips
vacant stare was cracked and
racked with breath reentering there

laid between layers
subject to another’s will
infant aged dependent still
waiting, waiting on sometime

somehow i will hold
somehow i will stay
and some times will remain
though alltime be removed

frozen space illusionary real
truth of past that passed me now
yet captured in believer’s eye
will never fade, will never die

liquid space the vision of past
heralds history best not forgot
that who i was now who you are
and greater still you’re called to be

v-wake legacy disperses, see
river rapids raid my velocity
now failed motor carried on current
to a shore beyond my rudder’s reach

sometime is coming
sometime will not relent
same steady progression on all
takes and makes that vacant stare

but held and touched and loved and cared
will heal the tears inevitably due
will make sometime beautiful
make sometime richer between me and you

Sweet To Me

You will always be sweet to me,
for I met you and know you as sweet.
Whatever confusing messy turns your life takes
I know your heart glows for truth and goodness,
however stained and remote it may feel.
You are walking the dark side
but not as a wanton child.
Rather, you’re experiencing the world in its stark reality
And painfully building a new language
that will give expression to a faith
that is complex, deep and compassionate.