A welcome pause.

Hello everyone,

Jessie Ray here. It's been a long and traumatic year for me and for plenty of people I know.

Sometimes I tried to party the horrible stuff away, sometimes I worked so hard I didn't have time to linger thoughts on bright, more shiny things, sometimes I just stayed in bed for the entire weekend and wished everyone would leave me be, in depressive cosy silence.

Through exhaustion and grief and a million coping mechanisms, I've come to the point where I just need to stop and sit and heal.

If you care to read some thoughts swirling in my head, please go ahead. Otherwise, thank you for your support, and I'll see you at some stage in the new year!

_________________________________________________________________________________

In just over two years, I have created upwards of 65 events including exhibitions, performance evenings, focus groups, workshops, etc. Some of those have been with a dedicated team of helpers, and some without. All the while, I have held down a full-time job, revived my own art business, and tried desperately to create some good beyond myself. I believed that I could sleep when I was dead and that there are more pressing things to be done than unwind and relax.

It has been enlightening, heart-opening and uplifting to connect with you all over the last few years and from the big shows down to the tiny, vulnerable conversations, I am grateful that you would come to me for love or hugs or advice or sillies.

I am completely burned out on an emotional and energetic level and now it's time to reboot. I have not been able to process anything that has happened in the last two years let alone the last 6 months due to the speed at which things keep happening. As a result, my health and closest relationships are suffering and I'm not willing to sacrifice them any longer.

I'm taking a break from Art Party. This both terrifies me and relieves me. In 28 months, I have had one break from Art Party, over two years ago.

Since its inception, we have had Art Party :
- in Sydney 28 times
- 10 times around the country, up and down the East Coast
- in India, Russia, Kenya, Indonesia and soon to be Canada

- We have connected with over 300 emerging performing artists in Australia and from Canada, UK, US and Indo.

- We have worked with over 15 different emerging venues/artist-run-initiatives within Australia and internationally

- we have over 2300 members in our Facebook group who are keen to connect, attend, art on and become the family we seek.

- We have had a measurable impact on the mental health and connectivity within our community, something I'm over the moon about. As the primary face of Art Party, I have heard that many stories of trauma, abuse, suicide, depression, isolation, longing, loneliness, and vulnerability. One thing that joins these stories is the person's willingness to share them, transcend them and connect once again to their art expression. Feeling safe to do so is paramount and feeling like you're among your tribe is what facilitates this healing. Though intangible, it can be felt in the repeated connections, unfolding of personalities and growing of trust, business and performance between members of our community.

- We have provided opportunities for our artists external to Art Party in radio, at festivals, other cities, other countries and continue to do so.

- We have successfully reached the point in April 2014 where all artists and contributors are paid fairly for their contribution. Woo!

I am extremely grateful to all those who have believed in this vision and who have offered their hands of help. I look forward to hopefully coming back to Art Party in 2015 with a renewed body and mind. I am confident that this community will be excited and inspired by one of my biggest inspirations, Bravo Child, as he takes over my duties for the first few months of 2015.

Please continue to support our artists, they need it and are so worth it. In ten years time when you're gagging for culture, I guarantee the ones you've supported will be the ones delivering that much-needed culture and art to life.

Peace x Love x Art x

I've always had trouble breathing,
as though it wasn't the first,
most essential aspect of my living,
each day I remind myself to inhale,
hold, exhale and empty,
like my body parts have forgotten how to on their own,
shoulders rise where belly should
and heart skips beats happy like a child,
yet lacking foresight and consequence.

You take my breath away
to foreign places twisted with accents
and warm bread,
wrinkled nose and tangled bedsheets
One hand on throat to hold my pulse
with the widest part of your hand,
I hold my lungs silent
for fear of dispersed luck,
Forget my needs momentarily and gasp,
before you pat me to calm
and back again.

You take my breath into your lungs,
one beat hung from your humming syllables
darrr-lin,
growl your rumble and rust,
let breathless lead to lusting
and let this twisted mechanism function.

Raw Women

Someone reposted one of my poems today <3

I guess if any of my words resonate with anyone who reads them, then the poem has satisfied it's own existence.

http://wp.me/p4lmXR-1Xr

River of Rose

My boat floats on a river of rosé
colouring Sunday afternoon in this here
love-boom
with the warmth of a winter wine
cloaked in summer sunshine,
still chilled by the night wind,
transparent heavens and
anticipation
part their lips
together to welcome us
part the weather like a red sea
give this sky-canvas some clarity
droplets of rain-paint
two shades lighter than my wine
camouflage themselves among my freckles
and fine lines,
I do not brush them away,
would rather revel in their shape.

My heart beats to myriad of rhythms
call me a culture-less vulture,
guilty of misappropriation
but every living thing has a beat
and every living thing has a skin
though I did not ever make a drum of hide
my hands know how to synchronize
their words,
to punctuate their falling softly,
to trance mind into matterless particle
and brain into endless vibration,
it is the most curious sensation
to admire all human cultures
as divine works of art
rather than a starting point for stealing.

My eye is drawn
by particles of shared memory
sun captured through busted lens
refracts off experiential symmetry
attracts me to shiny things
bright energy expands
through my eyelids.
Someone planted
fourteen circular rainbows
directly in front of my iris
rubbing shoulders with a dust mote
to keep my eyes in focus
showing me the spectrum
of endless possibility
my lashes sit in lotus-like
contemplation
of all I left behind me,
of the beauty now in front of me.

My memory is a masterpiece
stuck between two shelves
depending on how I see it
there's both heaven and hell in my
basket
I swing your arms and laugh,
as though direction were the key
it's neither path less travelled nor
heavily-trod
but the values inside which fuel me.

Permission

I have been digging my fingernails into these days,
believing that would slow
                                       time
                                               d  o  w  n,
give me enough minutes to pray for stillness,
grace,
to stop the constant flow of life moving away from when you died,
but Time doesn't care for me
the way you did
and Change, well, he is unemotional, indifferent and callous
to my bruises,
keeps on pushing, rolling,
Through tunnels and overseas,
brick by brick, and
designed demolition
No moss gathering,
no ecosystems flourishing,
just constant cyclical moving.

I gave you permission to leave my hands
knew you had a holier dance to attend
whispered well wishes to your missing bones
left myself an empty chamber of my heart
the shape of your groan
when you'd roll your eyes and burst into laughter
life echoing in our lounge
i let you go,
i let you remain unchanged
constantly 26 and yet
winning at this life shit,
on the edge of the wildest dream
you had to go and leave
so i'm trying to let it be
i'm still grasping for a giggle
thats been drowned out by the sea
every day for the past week
Sydney sky has mocked me with
Her brilliant brutality
The moon waits silently
for me to address her again
but i won't.
Once there was a direct line to her smile, 
now just the echo of a dial-tone, 
Guilelessly,
 Kiss the receiver, put it to rest against my breast
for one last heartbeat, 
Beg it to witness this blessed second.

I give myself permission to sleep
unruffled, unharmed
reaching for peace,
I want my body to heal,
as much as i feed it dis/ease
rolling on rotten gut
destructively free
but when i rest cells connect
deliver healing subconsciously

I give myself
permission to love wildly
dance the fine line of
lust and insanity
Use parts of body that aren't
in my skull
to feel my way through this
blinding mess
orient myself toward light
or fire
scream til heaven breaks in the night
i will not lie down and take this one life
as though it can treat me however it likes

I give myself permission to love
mindlessly
cuntfully
grinding and bumping til planets collide
no need for names when your
skin melts into mine
just fuck me back to life.

They say there's often holes
that cannot be filled with sinful living
but i tend to disagree
when it happens to me, simply put,
to get fucked and fucked up
is the best anaesthetic
one can rustle up
for the soul and the head,
as long as you know what you're
doing, they said,
as long as you know what you're
doing.

I give myself permission to feel
l   o    s     s  
                            fully
to fall time and again on my knees
to marvel at scabs and blood
cover my face in mud
go mad tearing myself 'part at the seams
pick myself up slowly,
walk home and
wash away the grime.

Time trots on by,
incomparable minute by wretched minute
I drop my eyebrows
walk through each step
because what else do you do?

I give myself permission to stay
away from you
to continue missing you
like my life's mission
what pleasure it was to know you,
seek skies in you
Earth crumbled from Pokara
to Katoomba
ashes to ashes
dust to dust
Grief is a 30 year process
so i give you up
to time,
to dreams
to belief that you weren't crazy
but visionary
but the more I speak of the dead
the more the living find distance from me
so lets carry this conversation
in silence

Forgive me
give me permission to be free again, please.

now I'm angry

at how I got myself into this situation

noticing 

that you do not see respect or boundary

noticing that the more 

you complain

the higher I build my brick wall

if you carry on like this, 

we will never be friends again

Such slight slights causing offence, 

and you still do not seem to get it

we are no longer close, 

nor will we ever be

things changed irreparably

in April, and in May

And finally I find myself in motion. 

rotten gut, fermenting rut, 
revisit of mindsets I thought I'd given up, 
Stoned heart, Stoned mind, 
If I'm now the rusty, then you were the shine
on this iron ore heart, 
cold as earth in the pre-dawn
until Father Sun came along. 

What does any of this mean without the Sun of your steps,
Without the glint of your hapless grin,
Still the admin trolls beat my brain
Yet the world will never be the same again,
only you know.
Only you know what is happening here,
method of speech removed,
God stopped listening anyway,
when I stopped believing
He could help.
He can't.
You do, and I've been having the most
marvellous time ignoring you,
But your calm creeps back under my skin,
plays cello with my heartstrings,
Shames me for childish happenings,
Pushes the oceans out my eyes,
I'm scared I don't want this life
Without you.

what am I trying to protect,
if this comes in a form of destruction?

why lean into love and operate
on the fuel of fear,
when I know this is unsustainable combustion,
creating artificial storms,
pulling up the tarmac we laid
for our foundation,
something strong to take us on this journey,
I am ashamed
of my weaknesses.

I looked down focussing on the crack
instead of the horizon,
felt motion sickness come over me
through the speed of my loving,
see speedbumps of doubt and fear
slow me down,
create distance between me and this feeling
of freedom.

When she died I felt like a woman,
again a child when I hurt you,
A villain.

I am not afraid

echo of a Chicago-born accent
sits in a dumbed-down earlobe,
says with quiet gravity
                twisted intonation
'i am not afraid. I am not afraid'
this man who writes among giants
in frozen stairwells,
seeks sainthood in icy rivers,
stumbles to my door,
i whisper back, liplessly,
'but i am..
                exhausted, with back braced and stride sore

Tall one, with the grace you breathe
into me
            tell me what am I to become?
What of love lives crossing
trenchlines, of armour thrown down?
What of a broken box,
stereotypes lost and
concessions to the freedoms
of skin
           to skin
Lauren Zuniga said delicately,
'It's just being to being,
here, let me hold that soul for you,
You've been drowning in labels
for so long..'
With open palms, a shrug,
I look toward the sky
Ask for guidance
Remembering love doesn't have a gender,
Not barriers or categories to fulfill,
Just like the softest hearts of goddesses
Lie in the bodies of men,
warriors in the hearts of women.

I know not what I become,
What I reach for,
I cannot deny I am drawn to the sun
In name or intensity
A fire by any other name
Would not smell as sweet,
Freckles as scars to learn from the
Burning times,
But now, lizard-like,
I soak the energy in,
Warm
My
Bones
stave off the cold.
Winter came early
This year but
So did
Salvation

Sweetest tall fruit

I had a dream that you came to me with a cuddle
In your arms,
A cloud below your knees,
Pre-dawn, 
Before the waking world,
I dreamed you flew from our nest
To new heights, 
Gave yourself the sacrifice of freedom
To drop a few limbs
Grow a few knots,
Deliver us your sweetest fruit,
Upon your homecoming.

'perhaps a lifetime...'

Perhaps a lifetime,
She mused,
rolling spliff after spliff
confusing lighters for
tiny suns
she wanted to roll around
with me
giggling
just for half an hour,
or maybe a day,
perhaps a lifetime.

mates thank me for offering them
courage,
she says and i see
the small grin on the corner of her eye,
proud
for perpetually making them look at the clouds,
stars, moon, trees or anything,
Remember my lady,
Go find that mountain
that moment,
I light a match between us again,
fury at this sentence of distance
and computers between us
this ambivalent blink of the cursor
i am petulant five year old me,
so she sends me a smile
and a raspberry

This is the beauty of
mother fucking grief
she says, mere weeks before
her ascension
I scream love,
she cries through my tangle of brow
its the only way,
to figure out
how we can find our way
to truth,
I just wish,
for one day,
I could welcome you home in my
arms.

the last thing i ever said to her was
i love you like the sun
nine days before the window opened
tall one buckled
under yet another sky
a family of gestures to catch this pause
in cotton gloves
dusty hems
they carried him cross the bridge
of the passing tide
to a softly broken stride
carried her to her wings
to glimpse the mountain peek
on her way home, she promised me
she wasn't going anywhere,
before i said
i love you like the sun.

She taught me to bow to Moon
like a child of dusted stars,
taught me grace through loving scars
swoon daily at the sky,
fall onto my knees in wonder,
at the spectrum inverted ocean of light
i still do this
every day
i still cry too though
every day
i can't bring myself to use past tense
about you
darling lady
loved liked my own blood
hearts failing, pumping
silence into my clubbed chest,
beaten,
breast torn,
You swore to me you'd be okay
you said, babe,
i'm not going anywhere, i'm safe
nine days before
gravity faded
before the heavens cracked open
made space
for an angel.

get up

let it out
let it go
get crazed
do not let days pass you by with
a bottle of fermenting suicide
brewing in your gut
get up
get out
leave the drought to the farmers
we are children of the clouds
grow heavy with held breath
though we look like softness
we are collections of the wet
haven't you seen how tears resemble raining
and how storms look like
grieving?

Clouds would not be
if not for the heaving changes
wash yourself clean
let your sky-body empty itself
be grateful for your physical health
though the mental may be locked up
it is not your time yet, so
let it out
let it go
get up and know yourself
lets these waters nourish
let growing pain hurt
this flourishing life must
stretch its muscles and
breathe.

Filament

Ah, so here is the drowning they spoke of

In hushed tones and

Tomes of loss 

echoing ages of rotten paper 

wrapped in human skin

Is there no end to suffering?

Warn me all you like of the disasters to come,

I will hold my head higher than centrepoint tower,

I hear the oxygen is thin up there

Which lends itself to

Grinning in absence,  

Open the door to naivety and

Gullible, I travel through myself to

Myself,

To you,

Splashed across this interminable sky.

The first time I hung off the cliff’s edge,

She came to me all lightbulbs and

Shining filaments and said,

‘I don’t even think you know..’

Before glowing at me from

Another place,

Another time when we knew not of this,

Her face burned my eyes,

I stepped back, 

Soul on fire, 

Desperation in my eyes, 

I forgot what it was like, 

to speak with her. 

The second time I hung,

Came a note from a person I do not know,

I have never known,

Except through storytelling,

Letters back home and

Now this post-mortem moment,

Saying,

‘she spoke of you, highly.’

Said ‘the shine you gave her was why she came here,’

Said ‘these times are confusing,

But her love is not’.

The third time I hardly gripped the cliff at all,

Let shale and dirt slip me further away,

Til my shaking body filled with wind,

Body heavy and spirit on secondment,

You came back to me again,

Through a stranger and his prayer,

He mediated between me and the God I forgot was there,

Softly said, ‘don’t forget this one,

Father, let down your hair,

That she might ascend through sky

Beyond her despair,

‘Father, she hurts and needs your care,

Don’t forget her,

Down here.’

Fairies of all forms

Bright and shiny droplets of grime
cover the mind's awakening,
spinning webs from crochet, webs from psy,
the creatures buzz about,
muddy, sly winks, fire-fairies and
hijinks,
birthday babes and tent vibration,
fire bound with inspiration,
there are days when I think,
who have I become?
This life a direct juxtaposition
from the other life, that mirage,
this real me, among stars,
in crystal irises,
in coloured fire and blocked sinuses,
send me back to the shiny woods, where
the cold makes us band together.

Grief Stoned

Grief is a dropped Stone, hot in your throat
branding your vocal chords,
coursing between
arteries to lie in gut to rust
slowly
it will never pass through,
it is
undigestable,
inorganic and impossible.

Grief is a locked room at the back of your house,
growing dustier by the day,
with size eight footprints fading.
Droplets of paint have disappeared
along with floppy hats,
a vaccuum of space that you file away under
U for unspeakable
unimaginable
upset.

Grief is a tug of war between my eyelids and my optic nerve
millions of pinpricks pierce this farcical existence,
innocuous daily visions turn to the heavy, laden memories,
Looking to the left and downwards is
the only place my eyes rest,
as they travel back in time to when
I knew you best
lost in the disconnect between now and then,
the present moment double exposed to these interminable lessons
and mostly i see through the swimming sea of wet lashes,
salty brain bashing itself
nerve ticking faithfully
my eyes are changing  based on my attitude and
i long to be my own visionary

Grief is apathy for the day to day
when a boxed in cubicle and data entry mean
years as a slave on this
pre-packaged chained life,
more meaningless still when
you shattered the grey scale with colour
refused to give that life a rudder,
used your arms to row and changed the course of your boat's angle,
This is life-numbing rage
turned to watered down discontent,
life dangles me a carrot,
but the bite is bitter.

Grief is a universe of tender connection
Friendship through loss solidifies our perspectives
what a shitty beauty to behold,
only present in your absence
this rusting sentiment
like an oversized person in an undersized body
i long to rip my face apart,
stain the seams with the blood of freedom,
breathe with a bigger sense of me-ness
once this frail body is left behind
but these friends,
they pat me back into my skin,
gently, telling me
all the shiny things they are grateful for,
they whisper, look up look up, when
eyes are castiron down,
heavy like i'm ready to look inside my own grave a while
and they smile.
They smile like they know doing so is my reason to push on
like they know I cry for them in my prayers,
like they know the feeling of caring family
and they smile.

Grief is the place where words are
bandaids on broken arms
sticking to your hairs as though the
glue will keep you together
Blood seeping out the sides,
White knuckles cold as ice,
Gripping to this seething reality
Through this blazing fire
We are forged,
Harder skin,
Longer vision,
Wider shoulder
Heart older

Grief is a dropped stone,
Buried out of reach,
Stomach lined with bile and
Bite
There's little light left in the kitchen,
The curtains stay drawn and dank,
We teach ourselves again of the sun,
Warm fingers inside bear hugs,
Grasp onto the match's flame for heat
Retreat into your cave
Sleep long nights and longer days,
Fill your mind with dreamers phase,
The low hum of mighty existence,
Grief is when your eyes drop,
Lids heaving
Rotting tears
And a single breath,
Held.

tick
tock
ticking eyelid
missing shiny
bright sparks
heart
stumbles after
you chopped its legs off at the knees
it can't stop bleeding

fuck
shock
anaesthetic mockery
rock between
drunkeness and philosophy
raging pain
and ecstacy

sick
sock
he wore on one foot
she wore the other
bright red
impossible to forget
burned into my retina
image of
him
her
happy
together
mismatched feet
tree meetings
fractals
laboured breathing

purple used to be
a favourite
colour,
no more
after his stories
no more

My face broke, the well opened
He asked me if all was okay
The words stuck,
As always
In my throat chakra,
He swore softly, apologised for my hurt
Pour a glass of the finest red
Around
Called it anaesthetic,
Called himself Doctor Rob,
Made his exit swiftly
After the efficient fix he had given,
I drown in the bottom of the glass,
One part hate,
The other grateful for pain relief.

7pm on a Friday evening
Stuck to my keyboard,
Typing through this incessant weeping
Try to get my work done,
The show must go on,
Even through this, this,
Unthinkable this.

I cannot handle it,
I cannot be resilient,
I can only be the love I felt,
Melting.
I do not want to carry this
Nor heal and grow distance from you,
Goddess, goddess,
I miss you so much
I'm Making bargains with the devil,
Take me instead,
It's my head you want, not hers.
She never sinned like me,
Never took from people selfishly,
She is better in every way,
And I am stuck, trying to emulate.
Please take me,
Instead.

Why

Concern behind every question
How are you..?
I think it is a good query,
To question my existence once
Wrapped in yours
I'm weary now and don't know
How I am,
How I am going to be.
I'm running on fumes and I have no energy.
I'm numb to the bone and sick to my stomach.
I'm really fucking depressed
And no, I don't anticipate
Happiness
So do not expect this of me.
I am trying,
To get through each hour without
Crying so hard my eyes explode,
Tear ducts are lost rivers now,
Hidden underground,
Inhabited with shame,
Don't ask me how I am
Because you cannot handle
This pain,
Nor can I.
I can't talk about it anymore
The words don't work,
They're stalling in my throat,
The net always ready to catch my disbelief
Hold your breath,
My death whispers to me,
Stop breathing and you'll be happy,
Stop existing alongside misery
Free yourself.
Inherent in this order
The imprisonment of others,
I am not resilient,
I am not strong,
I am tired, my bones feel a million years old
I need to sleep.
I need to find my weaknesses and crawl inside,
Brain etched with endless questions built from one letter,
Why?

I cannot feel today,
Numb, switched off
Extremities cautious to touch the water,
Ice cold nose running,
Losing. No weight,
Head a concrete chopping block,
The poison fills me.
Get up,
Get out,
Go be productive,
Cog,
Turn turn turn and leave the tears for later,
take a day off but no more,
That should be enough,
Back to the grind.

Sky-woman

I finally felt the warmth on my knees
Saw the sun has risen again
With a vengeance,
Letting eyes lose focus to
Train tracks,
See ibis infest the palm trees
In incongruence,
I look forward to only one thing
These days,
Resting my weary head, my bones lax, spine stretched into sleep,
In a dream foreign to this living one
We can speak again.
I suspect your form in the house
We shared,
Turn away, I don't recognise this
Absence in your eyes,
I'm scared.
I hear bumps in the night,
See your lanky moves in ungraceful ways
But I don't know this
Body-less version of you,
And you don't communicate
Your thoughts as well anymore.
I can't handle you haunting me,
Ghost,
You, omnipresent energy,
You, from which green things grow,
You, sky-woman, of the fractal family,
Of the waxing moon,
Of holy hands and bopping shoes,
You are too big to lose.
You are too much to lose.

I couldn't lose you if I tried,
I am reminded every time I look up,
Of your bloodline,
Your philosophy,
Excruciatingly wise mind,
Behind the most playful of smiles,
I am reminded with each breath
That even the breaking has it's time,
That the rotten stomach,
The dropped rock stutter of pulse,
The angry depression I find the door to,
The empty ache in punched gut
A symptom of this quicksand rut,
This endless hanging question 'why'
These are signposts to the way back to you,
Clouds racing each other to falling,
Tiredness pulling at me,
And a quiet rainbow sitting behind my ribcage,
Just waiting for it's chance.

I'm crying on the train again,
Moving quickly from the scene of the pain,
I can beat myself to the end,
Or along the way,
But friend, sister, lover,
This was never your way,
And I'm ashamed.
You'd laugh at our tears,
Tickle a side or two and say,
Yeh but,
Look at the sky!
Isn't it more beautiful than your wide, planet-spanning grief?
Isn't it divine, how blue and steeped in history,
Imagine all the bodies who have moved through that sky,
Imagine what fun we will have when we die,
Look up kid. It's not over yet,
There's much to be done,
The wet season will pass,
The cold will warm up,
Til then, you've got a family of souls to tend to,
Do they know how much you love them?
Do they smile before sleep, feel held?
Do you give them all the happies you can muster,
Do they keep your energy after you've gone,
Yes, let's meet tonight in the space
Between waking and sleep,
But when the mourning comes,
Get up, curse the cold, weep if you must,
But don't forget to look up.

I want her back
Please
It's been only 24 hours
Surely there's something you can do,
Breathe air back into those lungs
Take one life from me,
Instead,
I've lived many times over,
I can't do this again,
She was better.

I want her back, please,
I need her back,
She spread sunshine with every step
While I suck in toxins,
Blow out dioxide

There remain
Moments of peace,
All of them anonymous, uncounted,
Usually while I'm asleep,
I can't remember that it's all upside down,
That she's on the other side of life
And somehow I stay.
Good one God,
You really thought this one through hey?
Giving us humans our sunshine
Then snatching it back again
Soon as the chill wears off.

The inexorable push towards
Consciousness,
Wakes me,
Falling off a stilted bed,
Floor camouflaged in undone chores,
Stumble toward a stuttering urban waterfall
Hear every ghost within these walls
Say to me,
Sister, you're not the first one to have lived
And she won't be the last one that dies,
But don't worry, they slur,
Through toothpaste and
Smarting eyes,
I hear them hug eachother lightly,
Murmur an om and start rocking
Don't worry, we got her, sis,
Ancestors exist for this very reason,
To carry on communities, to guide,
While you thought we were here to keep them alive,
The truth is that they keep her loved,
Til we get there,
To her new house, probably made from
Clouds and cracked-open skies,
Pieces of dew,
Rainbows from her eyelashes
Mortar made of laughter
And foundations of our grief.

The only time I forget, is when I sleep.
Forehead clear and mouth slack,
I switch off the horror and dream,
Knowing I too have my deaths,
Nightly,
I disappear into my bedroom, sink into a pillow
And I pray.

It'll be winter soon but you could have fooled the trees, Left stark and bare to a careless wind Wearing nothing but their roots, They stood watching time slow as the cold came early this year. A thought sits planted in my minds hand Grasping at a concept Raw insides and organs bereft I remember something of my chemistry, That energy cannot be met with destruction, It changes it's Form but remains, still, Kept, If there is no heaven, I would understand, For heaven was a soul that I met Already, Fear glancing off the bright slivers of sun She leaned out a beat up car window in a yellow cardigan, Yelled hey! Jessie! Swooped in changed life For the better Changed future To worse Changed the past Into best She crept into my bloodstream grinning, taking a tube to swim down on, and splashed singing, Have you seen the moon? Look at the clouds!! Every time I look up I fall out of the sky again Hating such vastness For showing such reality Her beauty uncontained Kaleidoscopic Every day a different shade of shiny, A different blink of bright, Suddenly my sight is saturated with her lessons And her presence, Ever-present. I grapple the edge of reason, Tip into the realm of prayer, 
cast my heart a stone and give up a diamond From the pressure there alone, From between the cracks, the light finally shines, And it hurts. How does the bending heart open, If not through tears, Fissures missing, The fear is gone, of the other space, She now walks among her peers, It's getting cold here. The trees think it's Winter, But it's months too soon, The rose still sits on the windowsill, The scent of summer lifts, And her magic now sits between your fingers, Listen, listen to the lingering beckon, To embody these teachings, Reckonings may come, indeed they most likely will, but for now, look at the sky, have you seen the sunset? Have you seen the moon?

And then the voids were filled with sifted silence,
fissures creeping in through each tiny crack of the vocal chords
each broken beat of a heart that sometimes refuses to
believe this reality
stumbling its way down artery lane
scuffing its toes, and choking out words
like
hold your breath, woman, hold it tight.
In this held breath are the lives of your dearest,
They cannot yet go if you hang onto this oxygen,
and my lungs hate me, straining.

FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK

It is so easy to fall
stumble and trip over my glib view
of what has happened to me
of what has happened to you
to what happens daily while others
underestimate
the power of words
as i do myself

it is so easy to fall back into the person i hate
to create for myself a place I
need to run from
to create for those around me
a reason to push away
easier to see this through clearer lenses
goodbye to the endless ego push
goodbye to giving any fucks
goodbye to whatever it is i have built
because i am sick
i need help

The best way to help myself
is to get away from all of you
to give myself back my brainspace
and forgive those taking up weight
i cannot bear this anymore
all this hate is killing me
leaden legs and heart heavy
i quit weed and took up
self harm again
almost
almost
almost was worth it

The importance of play

Gravity becomes us,
if we let it
earth shredding cells down
years after we build them up
figured out the length of a heartstring,
taut and tender to snapping,
atmosphere burned it on the way
our bodies let us down
eventually.

While we are here,
let us look to the smallest blade of grass
in its innocence.
Dancing to the wind,
bouncing insect vibrations
crunch a frosted morning tiptoe
from a toasty morning fire
Let your wired mind dance over
every pretty little thing
create a game and live it
like your life depended on it,
sibling, it does.

Roll your shoulders and your eyes back
enjoy orgasmal groupings,
there's a trust in us dependent on the
warmth of endless floooopeeees,
remember den of tiger cubs, of kittens and of bears,
Where the wild things become,
are where the humans lose their cares
their worries swing by in a tree
upside down, head in dirt
the mudrats found their freedom,
We need these times, these moments
of forced geniality,
playfulness is godliness
the mindset of endless liberty.

Faith-bone.

It still takes me by surprise
like birds who forget the sunrise by night
They awaken
        delighted to the earth becoming
        what they knew it was all along,
the dark period is gone now
they sing,
get excited guys, we are still alive.

Clockwork beating of the heart,
A little faster the day after
           like my mind is racing
                       sweaty palms
           to harness first the memory,
           transpose it into poetry,
           sprint a mile in my reverie
bags packed,
lids heavy,
this steady return to life.

I can no longer pretend we
don't know what we're doing.
When the crew comes back from
                far-flung places,
                the universe written
                on their faces
in laugh lines,
                erased negativity,
in open arms
to the wider community,
what started 19 parties ago
remains
and my faith-bone, it grows.

It is true.
We've become a cult
of the highest order,
          acceptance breeds acceptance
          connected in our presence,
shoulders broad to build more
foundations
of sweaty inspiration.
The old city moults off me,
4 million blameless of push and shove,
I see no longer strangers
just soul's capacity for love.

You are,
what you want most,
a note I've learned through kindness.
Though lonely on the road to change
it's within you every time,
               to choose this stranger as your neighbour
               to choose this time to show your colours
               to cover this cement and mortar place
with your fortified shine,
your hopeful grace,

There is a different way,
You showed me,
There is a different way.

Subway Submit

another's grief settled

under my skin 

yes/terday

no more tough love

              grin and bear it 

              aspirations

simple submission of the highest degree

snotty sobbing on a train

desperately

failing

at 

keeping it together again

a single stranded stranger

wishes me well 

six     m  o  n  t  h  s    hence she whispered

it might look different, 

rest your weary head now kid, 

it gets better

under cover loneliness

though lowness is no shame

with all this heavy rain

creating soggy graves and sunken brains

I can/not justify this

sinkhole

put    on    yer
  happy         face, love

it ain't that bad

grizzly drunkard gives me his leering tumble
nervous tick develop
at a centuries-old gaze
forget forget
this proprietary theft
wash clean of it

halfway to drowning in a lukewarm bath 

benzobody numb 

swollen glands 

wrinkled hands

pull myself up

grit my teeth

remembering

death is not pretty

Broken Glass / Angry Fist

woke up
swallowing
broken glass shards
pieces of congealed blood
dried mouth flavour
nightmares and forgetfulness

visions of splendid rage
fill fists just barely contained
at my side
gun under my chin
an idea i used to believe in
the eternal struggle

medicate
drink
slap on pharmaceutical bandaids and
pray for reprieve

I lost a heartbeat
somewhere in
the dumbing mist
don't know where i put it
somewhere between
ongoing concern
broken organs
a death in the family
these angry fists

lose a few more
dreams my self destruction
wait for enough space between beats
that life force is drained
stress is yesterday's problem
and you no longer have a body

i swallowed broken glass and razor bladed dreams today
felt them lodge
near my rotten gut
loosen shelf of smoke
deep breath in
hold it forever
stop the pushing
stop the pushing

Warmheart

when we recognise what is pulled to the surface
from the depth of our character
when like a magnet, lover attracts
this colour-bound side of us,
is it you who creates my happiness
that creates my flat sadnesses
them that creates us, validates us
make within the universe space enough for us to
be ourselves

no

what in those people do we inspire
be it a burning skinscar
sleepless nights or a
fire so deep inside they
cannot stop smiling
warm spills over and touches each arteried finger
all i can remember
is that once organs felt made of
steel
where now they are made of melting
that music was made of fear
is now made from celebration

nothing left between the lines
to read into
nothing more than calm bliss
a state i've felt just once
my first love,
used to spread warmth too

he had hair just like you
the same dimpled lip
eyes that bore into me
like the core of my being was
the most precious

rusty venom
in my skin, igniting fierce
mental conversation
hatred burning like spiced cinnamon
false perspectives
false pedestals

all along
this softness,
this flesh of patchouli and grace
this menthol-based tastebud reached
in between our embrace for
just enough time for a snowflake to die
delicate
obscure
divine

less obsession with death and darkness
it will surely come
the past brings it kicking
to the forefront of Anyone's mind
remember remember
what you built of yourself
when presence was the only obsession
when love the only concession
what a mess you've let it crumble to
what a mess you've swallowed and bowed unto
what a mess

you haven't a clue
how many times i've killed myself
inside
the sweetest pleasure to deny yourself a future
get out of jail free car
sitting on the overpass
fuck this farcical existence
i'd rather fade into oblivion
quietly without a shade of colour
and you,
might finally celebrate.

so here's the thing
about swings and roundabouts
they get you no where
going soundly in circles til
mind is wrapped up
i'm nothing more than a walking arsehole
with shit for a mouth
all energy sucked
all love burned out
fuck
everything
i care too much
for things that aren't there
i read between lines
on a grid
leaving my brain riddled
with false everythings
why are you even talking to me
why does this carry on
relentlessly

just throw me a bone already
or bomb
line my coffee
with poison
and be done.

I only realise I’ve been holding

My breath

When I gasp for more

Thinking perhaps now I can die

And they’ll rule it accidental

A spiritual asphyxiation

The whole world burns,
so I find myself hoarding sand / giving hugs
quaking shoulders roll in mud / soothe the fire / kill the cardinal, the abbott / set pope free slowly

tic goes fuck fuck fuck, we're stuck on a dying rock
and all I can think about
is my smoking chimney.

so
the brightest flick of flint
sits now in the past,
darkness swallows the beauty
i passed by with worry lines
etched deep in my palms
flame dies out
the taste of kerosene
on my wrist
delicious
poisonous
broken lighter in my pocket
kiss your neck
remembering what it is to be
Intimate.

Brother, Sister, Lover,
Muse,
I miss you
cling onto the tendrils of memory
lined with late night laughter
late afternoon coffee
late morning mumble
scratch brain for excuse
i'm late to work again
worth it for taking my time
with you

charcoal smears across body
single hair wrapped round knuckle
folly fall through my fingertips
quickly
cant stand against failing gravity
skin my scabby knees
leave traces of me on the pavement
dig my way to your core
breathe in the crust and magma
forge myself a new armour

find you in between pages of
halted poetry
staggered breath taken step by step up
Escher's staircase
only to retrace your shadow
sneakers painted yellow
nodding t'ward lighter walkings
sing out your mortality,
whistle grass
summon birdy
tilt my head toward the sky
with your wonder
magic slips outta my fingertips
deck of cards, cut and decorated
sleight of hand, eat your cake,
i'll never forget the delicacy with which
you showed me your talent
you make magic out of nothing

i stand in awe.

the ringing returns but still clarity-free. trip to the optometrist won't help me see this time, i'm already on borrowed wine and cigarettes, choking down daily hangovers, hangups and dressup my face. it's better to be a bitch than pitied.

Can't care anymore,
flick off the switch

you stupid bitch,
how dare you give your heart away
without brain's strict permission

sure I said,
burn me, I said,
but i didn't really mean it

was just being
romantic.

i wanted to say
please don't leave me
in this state
with silence on our plates
the bread's turned stale

lost my appetite anyway

i do not deserve a truthful conversation?
i don't really deserve anything, hey?
Asshole from black heart
to burnt rage
i'm the shit you finally
got out of your system
flushed away
down the cistern.

I am rendered irrelevant,
like leftover tricks from Halloween

Run away, screams the brain.

Run away.

Felt a gap
In the spaces created
Tween my heartbeat and that step
Rest A little more,
Arteried blood,
Still yourself from the heat
Feel a slower reach
Toward muddy glass
Mirrored muck
Open lung
Slip a slicked word
Through clenched teeth
Tongue hard from
Cemented truths
Feel that loosened grip
As more real
Now

Shhhh... Veins,
Stop feeding into yourself
So much
It's okay.
To touch
Be blessed
To cocreate
In a single chamber
To release
A valve of steamed
Passion
Stains the walls
Otherwise.

Be happy,
In your choices,
You are your own prophets voice
That steps over
Your ethics delicately
You know
This kinda sorta
Real.

Feels like a loofah
Frictioning
The skin
Stiffly
Thought clear pores
Were a good thing

Sun's
Shadow over the clearest
Tunnel
Marking my
Cheeks
My body.

I wish for
Happy
To inhabit the lonely.
I wish for
Peace in each eulogy.
I wish for the share of
The healthy.
I wish,
I could help
Freedom.

Waiting for rain

Hold a shaky breath
Settle syncopated heartbeat
Palpitate anticipation
Calmly,
Soon you can let go
Soon

There's only one moon left
One night of stormy preparation
Show the world your final
Goodbye
Jump into the abyss
Head first
Kiss the border of no mans land
Shake fist at the fakery
Let go
properly.

Sort out your heart strings
File away the apathy and quicksand
Leave only notes of gratitude
Dripping paint
Drawings of open hands
And a photo of
Once upon a time

Bury it all behind you,
Refracting sky bends
Dream into night
Take a breath
Give a breath
Rest your weary thoughts
On a headstone

See how the grass gives her shade
To ants and lesser beings

Learn to do the same

Burned

I recognise this place
I've seen the flaking paint before
    The walls were
    More private then
Stained from nicotine nights
Half moon mornings
    Lighters relatively hidden.
    Causing calm in times of trouble
Night dawns on me holding a shovel in one hand,
Plant hole for the heart seed,
Earth filled with apathetic fumes
         Suck it up
              Feel the burn
                  Let your lungs learn of
Life.

Through the hole in a rough cut sky
                stars
began as stepping stones
           two flattened back adventures
Pinpricks remain in holy hope
From a cave of your creation
            Stuck in a web with no gravity.

When Dawn peeps into curtain,
Let sun make skin scars on your melanin
Were I more savvy
I'd have worn protection,
I knew this place
I knew the tightness of a
skin-grafted heart
asthmatic breath rises up slowly.
Sun of eternal love,
She says to me
You've failed again,
Love.

Turn towards cold
Back to the warmth
Don't you walk away from me
Look me in the eye
Til we are both searing
Iris bound in weaponry, look at me. 

I saw white spots
         When you left
Blinded by the lightness
         Of perfection in her power
I left my heart cowering
In the corner
         Took my bit lip
         Took my leave
Cringe a little
As colleagues see Red
On nose and cheeks.
     colour that
     Torn wallpaper
     Under layered paint
Let melancholy be.

Look straight ahead do not look back,
head up spine straight
Dignity is harder than they'll have you believe,
feel less like a jester
Crying in a crowded train
Than alone with you, again
So here,         have my final desert
Nothing behind the shimmering mirage
after all
delirious stumble into the dark

The door creaked as I crossed the threshold,
World unable to hold my weight,
Collapse inside a sagging wall,
Pray for isolation,
FUCKOFFLIFE
let me wither for a second,
      Let the insides curl into gangrene,
      Fall off into an acid pit
      Make my peace with a death wish
      Aimed at Cupid

I have been here before,
Seen these skirting boards
show their chips, show me
How they came to be forgotten,
painted over
how they played the game
to conform to wall survival

       I'm certain the attic is calling me
Wander my feet instead
       To the basement
Let out some of the flashing red
Stuff cotton wool in my eyes to stem
Incessant weeping
Paint with the abandon
Of the devil
For hours.

Dishevelled I emerge,
Circles round my sight,
An urge to call my mother
Passes
Light up my medicine instead
Begin the forgetting process
Build a new foundation
                         Again

Waste Paper Basket

     in the business of truth telling
i've hidden myself
in smoke and mirrors
    helped sink friendships, sever family ties
sanity's claim in the living
is that we're all gonna die one day
    well here's the truth
    words are simply words,
no matter how you hear them
twisted vines of growth
coming from undefined depths
never meant for you,
a wretched hand reaching for the
scissors

stop

stay still, keep in mind your demons

lift your head out of the bitumen
stop filling your head with stones
sew back together filthy fragments
brick together the house destroyed
by your ire
fingers licked in flame
by a blue fire
back to the drawing board,
cover that reminder with ink
breathe

forget what everyone else thinks
forget         everyone else

think

of you for once
pick up yourself by the shackles of pained breathing
let the rust sink into blood as the newest memory
none of the too good to be true things were
true
                  trimmings on a casket
                  discarded poetry fills my
                  waste paper basket
                  rendered useless in eighteen ways

now, martyr,
    say sorry to your bones
they've been grinding themselves in your sleep
they cannot keep up
    not built for speed
    but to carry heavy things

at last,
    the final element of distance
    sweet, putrid silence

broken skin heals
    when no one is looking
body in hideaway,
    smoke signals sent over seas
the ship has been gutted
    emptied
    memos thrown out
    manuals torn 'part
glass sinking
sudden isolation

thinking of open water
    i stir my tea,
consider letting the tide take me
to sink into sleep as a blessing

rock in my belly
grows larger by the minute,
Earth grounding me,
'Sister we're not finished with you yet'

storm inside but the weather's clearing

               faintly

a wind tickles the trees, whispers
you've forgotten the first rule of
Being

letter to Self

spread your mess around
    tangle fingerwebs and brain-waves
remember to pass on your mouldy roses
    to those who'd stop the world 's motion
    for a moment

for goodness' sake
    shake the wind out of your hair
    go back to crazy when you spoke to self on streets
    batshit on the inside
    screaming deep into lung
    and locked chest
    whistling to restless prisoners
harmonise your agony
    drag another crutch to carry you
    leave clothes for the outside
          face your innards in here

put on the blinkers
    wind shield wipers clean robotic emotions
swallow once, twice
    look up
    force leaking eyes to dry
    vomit violent silences
breath driving
against a racking rib
    smile politely
    make quiet conversation
    forget the cracking thunder
in temple,
desecrated presence
shattered light of a lone candle
starts a fire
    turn my back on the flames
    walk away

what was there
     nothing remains,
dusty footprint, rotten flower,
marked sneer stains a memory
    don't make a big deal out of this
   
        its not a big deal
            its not a big    d   e   a   l  .  .  .

miss me
when I'm gone
retracing childish steps
to coulda beens that led to
shoulda dones
harden heart and let the weeds grow among
headstones
there's a  scratch marking each affect
    it cannot break, that's an emotional cliche
    its not a big deal
        its not anything

do your lungs not still breathe
do your capillaries still read
between the lines of your heartbeat
suckling on bled nutrients
a bruised knuckle from night time stroll
is more real than
what you think
    nothing is as it seems
    its not a big deal
feel your organs function, thoughtlessly
no ego in mind.

do not be fooled
    for neither are you
    a big deal
there will always be better folk,
staking claims, help you punch above your weight
    you will be defeated
as they turn away
    you, learn your rightful place in this
reality contract
    you're nice enough, sure
but unexciting,
    you're plain as they come
someone to forget
someone to be forgotten

    it's not a big deal

Suicide is now one of the three leading causes of death among young people. More people around the world are now dying from suicide than from armed conflict.