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.


Weighed down
heart sorrow…
the greatest ever known.
Shifting blame,
you would not buy it;
sticks to me
like static balloon.
None to recompense
but you…
none found liable
but I…
A hurting heart
will drive Thorn deeper,
knowing that comfort
gives way to pain
but pursuing regardless.
Addict to Loneliness,
now beyond the grave
I wish the grave undone.
Same throb remains…
same thrust of grief
that pulled me undone before.

It’s a spiraling vulture-culture,
circling corpse remorse.

Unless a seed dies
in tear-stained ground
it remains in solitude.
Sacrifice today
for a future harvest
and see hundreds unfold.

White Stripes

White stripes extend to the vanishing point where darkness swallows the headlights. In nighttime’s cocoon the world shrinks to dashboard dials, Coldplay and the intermittent flash of high-beams. Rhythms of the road seduce his eyes. Roll and flick… refocus – sharp breath.

Already he’s at home, his mind previewing the warm greeting from his father, the welcomed cheer of his friend. He knows where he will drink on Saturday night and who will stay on till Sunday dawn.

A late run home is one more deadline to meet, a challenge to the capability of youth. But as white stripes creep closer, he drifts further away. Cosiness is for the inexperienced and ill-fated. Grinding corrugated lane markers warn of transport’s delicate ecosystem.

He saw the tree, but its placement didn’t register logically. Roll and flick… refocus – sharp breath. Wrench… break.

Squealing overcorrected on two wheels, the metallic shell lifts and sparks across the bitumen, roof forgiving the convex of a second tree.

His right ribcage bears seat-belt abrasions where he had allowed it slip, but more notably, the windscreen’s fragile glass proved stronger than his fragile skull.

Breath is forgotten in the forest’s reverent hush. Only the radiator dares hiss, joined by the distant cries of the ocean.

Hours later I travelled his last white stripes on foot. It was a long walk – traffic jam on my left, youths heedlessly playing cricket on the vacant right. But as I reached the red and blue, the mood grew sombre, I was asked to wait. The chopper spotlight rose like a UFO above the highway crowds and slipped into the heavens. The cricketeers returned to their vehicles and I hurried back to mine as traffic cranked up once more.

Work lights exposed a twisted underbelly, as broken as he who once drove it. I shrank down behind my wheel as I passed, for fear the workmen may see my guilty lurking yawn, and focused especially hard on the white stripes ahead.

The Bower Bird Call

The bleeding, dying, dripping, drying
A cry to wash the wind away
Falling left while floating right
The moon won’t slay the sun tonight

You have left me empty-handed
Stranded by the darkest way
Without return but lost for future
Waiting for a newborn grave

So I sit here, in your eyes
Depleted, defeated
Wrapped in storm and needy
Bright vanity rusted seedy

A mild winter the hardest
Your laughter but an echo
Laid low on the Bower Bird call
Mocks my winded fall

It’s a tumbling personality
Rock-bound glamoured pad
False impressions shattered
Splattered on the Truth

Lingering on the midnight dream
The world was mine and time would lean
To meet the steps I chose to tread
All desired within my means

This has been the longest day
But still the night hides away
Come close to climb within
To dream again, to rest my limb

Affections For You

Affections for you creep up slowly. Like a dream where the roller-coaster falls from its tracks then reappears on course without reason, so my heart explodes without release. Pressure builds and builds, frustratingly so.

To pluck the flower before it blossoms would kill the very beauty it promises. It breaks my heart to leave it there, exposed to the world. Someone may steal it; assuming it were mine at all. Someone may trample it, without me on guard.

When the wind blows my direction, I can sense it’s fragrance… a present reminder of distant travels calling. One midsummer I may return. Amongst the seasonal daisies, my flower will stand tall. 

And now, fully grown, I will take you with me. 

All I Can See

For all I can see
The epitome of me
To release control and cast to the wind
The pressure to understand

Unrest swirls
Twirls and whirls disrupting
A night that could lay still

Aching like a rib-caged dog
Hunger grows and knows no abate
Persistent in its cause to claw
The final grain of hope

Breathe outwards and float inwards
Close my eyes and sigh
Fly in realms not weighed down
By sucking sight and stinging sound

That is hope.
A picture-future
Possible to reach

A tear, unseen, exists nonetheless
Rolls from my gut and rolls
And falls
And when it passes through depths my conscious cannot fathom
It appears once more,
Rolling from my gut, and rolls
And falls

I have tried and fallen through
Took the risk the jump the fall and all
That was promised… was dashed

When You Have Hope

When hope breathes in you
You can open up your window in midwinter
The cold that once ate at your uncovered toes
Now refreshes your lungs

Outside the snow remains deep
But I burn deeper

A Cry For Deeper Love

[I feel like] I was fooling around
With a tattered cloth in the dark

Then someone shone a torch on it
And the media frenzied over it
While I held my breath, hoping
No one would make the obvious statement
‘Look! It’s only a rag!’