Muted

my senses are slowly muted by the heat
movements decrease, mind images brighten
senses move like wind through the shaded leaves
familiar scents, reawakening a smile,
thoughts trace back to a source
happier colours, warmth.

Shadow

She was their titanium mother
driving through mud pools, fearlessly laughing
she was their pillar, finding joy through rain
through long winter nights,
keeping watch over their their animal dreams

Then the light became to strong
the sun shone too long
their eyes reflect her vacuum
their doubt makes listless laughter
on never-ending days of house arrest
they look towards their newly weakened mother
moving slowly, distracted by muted sounds and fog

hoping for a reminder of her heart, once diamond cut
they hesitate, and walk back to their room, quietly
fearing the heavy shadow she pulls now.

Human

the mind has rooms,
moods and maps
quantifiers of the psyche
an emotional disconnect
between the light and life
a dog chasing tail
a lonely diatribe.

still life

dusty tired optimistic Christmas lights
line the empty streets
an art exhibition life
my chapters are paintings
along the walls
watercolour moments
memories in paintbrush strokes
themed by the curator
dark days, light breaks through,
strange and new

Morning

I dive into the day

With blind sight

I dive with the rush of chlorine

Burning my eyes

Shut eyed faith

Wishing on a dream

For sunshine smile

Union

A picnic blanket on a summer Sunday
quiet jacaranda's lining streets of the capital
I was barely two,
catching small ladybirds with my grandmother
the world was lucky, magical
free from protest,
I believed no child would every need a protest.


that faraway long forgotten picnic
on the lawns of a once nostalgic building
came back today, under a smoking sweating sky
sodden, trodden jacaranda blossoms
young men and women, thousands
 determined, unwavering
I watch them, asking for freedom
the freedom to learn, the freedom to know
they are no picnic blankets now
just a conscious living breathing question
What are you doing inside those walls?
they are brave in the heated helicopter fuelled afternoon.

one day there will be doctors, learned minds
beautiful minds from this crowd
who worked and stood together for  education
one day there may be understanding in the glance of hindsight
now there is just the lawn of my long ago picnic
tear gassed, strewn with broken dreams and stones.

Father

You built a fortress for my protection

an emotional fort, holding my delicate heart

you made it stronger than steel
free from tragedy
free from humanity

you made large windows,

a view to the horizon

I stayed here, stayed safe

I looked out to the evening stars

with no fear.