Sunday, August 06, 2017

Silent Retreat

God struck me
So that I rang like a bell
And all my joints ached with fatigue
Yet it was not God who struck
For God was not there

God stirred my dreams
Like some vast prophetic vat
Bubbling thickly against the surface
Yet it was not God who stirred
For God was not there.

God ran His hands through my pain
Till its eddies shimmered drowning rainbows
Till they too were lost
But it was not God's hands
For God was not there

God came to me in the silence
In the stillness between thoughts
And held me within eternity
But it was not God who held me
For God was not there

God stood still on a lonely hill
As the Wellington breeze tore at the weak winter-sun warmth
And watched unmoved as I died
Yet it was not God who watched
For God was there already

Tuesday, June 20, 2017

Until you speak to the silence in me
I shall never hear its voice

Monday, June 05, 2017

I chased my shadows
And became the sun

Friday, June 02, 2017

Hope is seeds of our selves sown in secret soils.

Tuesday, April 04, 2017

The Big Bad Wolf

.....
My what big eyes I have,
All the better to trick you with
My what pretty smile I have,
All the better to fool you with

Ahh little one with your hood so red
Just wait till you see me in bed
I'm gonna huff and puff
And fuck up your life instead.

Sunday, April 02, 2017

Trust is for the desert
Putting down waiting roots
Straining through the cracks
That none but the mirror sees

Trust is for the desert
Where the stones are bread
And angels wait to catch me
And yet I must say no

Trust is for the desert
Where I can find no green within me.
Though I wander forty years
The seeds refuse to sprout.

Trust is for the desert
Where distance is measured
Against the landmarks of my shame
And always I must measure again.

Trust is for the desert
Search for a God
No longer found in fire or cloud
No longer heard in whispers.

Trust is for the desert
Against the grain
Against the rain
Yearning for the green again.
There is a strength in open doors
That cannot be found in walls

I wear these scars
Beneath my skin
Easier than believing
That it won't hurt
When the light gets in

Friday, March 31, 2017

Editing Photoes

I can't fix you
These calloused fingers
Don't reach deep enough
To unmake, unshape
And tear the holes right out

I don't want to fix you
And leave you less
Than the sum of your pains
To burn away your shadows
I'd kill your light.

I'm not fit to fix you
Because​ youve not been broken
Just rewoven, recoloured
To tell a richer tale by far
Than bland perfection.