Sunday, November 4, 2018

Emotions run deep
like wild fire through her veins
a phoenix reborn


I used to think I was too much
my heart
too big
too filled, wanting
or at times too small

and then I realised

it isn't easy to love a woman like me
someone who feels so deeply, so intense
it must be frightening

to love me is to be brave
and not everyone
is strong

(Poem from My Beautiful Scars)

Wednesday, August 29, 2018

My Beautiful Scars

It's not that I have physical scars
my scars are emotional
because every experience
has left me feeling raw

I imagine the chasm within me
filling up
making me complete
I want to hold that feeling
so that no one can take it away
from me again

these scars are reminders
of what it means
they're there to show me
what happens when
I let the bad stuff in

but now I'm wiser and I know
how to wear them proudly
they've made me who I am
a strong and self assured woman
who takes shit from no one
and when I look at them
these scars
I know who I am
I am whole
I am complete

(Poem from 'My Beautiful Scars')

Saturday, July 7, 2018

Kite season

I'm reading Sylvia Plath
by the pool, Balinese style
a dark edge we both yearn for

flushed and warm
flushed and warm

the sun, faded
rippled orange light
dulled from volcano
it smells like bushfires

from across the yard
a barong statue stares at me

tipping and leaning towards
the grotesque
its bulbous eyes confront
my insides

a kite blows mid air
its flaming tail
a majestic garuda
trailing across
the smoke filled sky

Friday, July 6, 2018

Wind chimes (Bali)

The clang of wooden chimes
a figure eight
plump and insisting
as a woman’s body

Thursday, March 29, 2018

Ode to woman

And this, I want you to

you, dark creature are one
who bleeds with the moon
a cosmic creation borne from
the rib of man

and you are magnificent

with your rolling thighs
and hips that move
like the ocean
a mouth that speaks too
shameless but tender

wanton and generous
a divine fruit, no less

yearning, full of want
a love they would die for

Friday, March 23, 2018

When it hasn't rained

It hasn't rained for months
and what little rain we've had
has evaporated with the wind

crisp, yellow and brown leaves
scatter the ground
parched from the sun

it's hot
everyone's dry and bothered
all is covered in dust
my eyes hurt

we need the rain
I need to flush the dirt from
my soul

Saturday, January 20, 2018

The kookaburras

It was just like yesterday
when we sat on your porch
feeding the kookaburras
you folded mince
between your fingertips
and placed it on the railing  
knowing that at any moment
the birds would fly in

it was one of those mornings
when the sun had come up
and the air was still fresh
with the dawn
we didn’t talk a lot
not because we had nothing to say
but because the silence
meant much more

I knew this was going to be
one of those moments
a memory that stays with you
to be recollected

I think you knew that too

we thought it would last forever
and had all the time in the world