And in the silence I have learnt

That truth before is still

truth now

Even if the sound hid it for a


And in the silence I have learnt

That some friends before still friends now

and some friends before not friends now

And in the silence I have learnt how

to tell the difference

And in the silence I have learnt to

Feel the hurt and absorb it to

Dissect the bruise and question what it is about it exactly that makes me hurt and to find that thin strong thread of core truth and follow it to the point where it points out where my wound is and then further to where it understands how to help me heal

And in the silence I found an inward journey that went on for centuries and knew everything it needed to know instinctively

And in the silence I found an aching sadness that nothing is ever truly found that nothing is ever truly understood

But in this silence I also found a quiet joy in realizing that nothing is really ever truly lost. That it is right here, all the time. In this silence

And in this silence I found a power in the stillness

It is looking without watching. It is hearing while gently listening. It is a complacent passive understanding in observance

It is knowing,

Really knowing


sarcasm is best

Misunderstood because it borrows

humility from the hundred eyes broadcasting and everyone seems to learn

a little bit- more- than they would have if there was no distress

When anger floating without cause is the cause of self destruction just like steps without a foothold on the ground cannot cause disruption just like change

always had a way to push against the current just like current was electric meaning intensely powerful just like the words that make these paragraphs intently digital

Throw words into the air

Like glitter-dust confetti, and watch

-watch, how they fall onto the ground in an explosion of ideas

a kerfuffle of meaning. Watch, watch

how its alphabetic matter disintegrates and separates like

form from dust or dust in wind. Or wind.

Like wind, it breaks, it cannot be caught, it cannot be still.

It fades beneath more words beneath time beneath travel and

experiences. It fades until there is nothing left but a memory, then

a memory of a memory and then -something- so distant and so brittle that

even the act of trying to grasp it will destroy it, will destroy it smithereens.

So be careless and careful all at once. Because words need to spill out of and over themselves to become something healthy. Something real.

Like the perseids shower shimmer above us now we are only fleeting,

so let words fly with motivation, until they find their meaning,

let them stretch unframed into this universe, adorned with a comet-chaos-consciousness

where they can breathe.


Restless Air

anger electric energy dancing from the wisps of

forgotten integrity left out humanity careless ego and

lowered self esteem. Taken from the place where steps stood

on cracked concrete and stumble-walked and mumble-talked a mist

layer of existence minus the clarity. Taken from a place where fog hung heavy

like the eyelids over our eyes that irritate, with lashes stuck in grit and the inability

to contemplate before we speak. The inability to blink. We stare, casually unaware that we are hurting until we hurt another in the tone of our voice and the choice of our words.

We walk, carelessly and with a bitter energy that tells the other to ‘watch where you are going’ and forgets, all at once, where we are coming from.

We talk, louder than is necessary, hoping that the words we speak so clearly still those quiet whispers in our heart,

-but if we were to listen to that thuddud pulse that teller of the soul that all-for-you crown and captain of our whole

-it would tell us to follow those footsteps which our hearts have etched. To follow with courage and that being tired, doesn’t necessarily mean rest.

So onward, onward with humility and an apology to the anger I have felt in these few days. Onward with an opening of heart and a stilling of mind, emotions were just passing clouds but beyond that I understand that the sky is me.


Don’t ‘learn’ to fly,

Don’t ‘try’

just hop and hop and jump and leap and

bound until you fly.

When you’ve been walking all your life

heals scraping tarmac growing blisters

on your toes and growing dullness in your mind and

a heart slowly turning from flesh to stone until you


Don’t walk today, don’t struggle, don’t scrape your feet slowly

nearing that distant pindrop goal. Don’t give in to the tedious and struggle that is the journey. Don’t let it be the journey.

No, -know that you are already there.

That journey: it is here! you are where you need to be and where you

need to be is -you-

so be, and breath, and Fly.


Dreams of fried egg

over nasi goreng

and the crunch of fresh crushed

ice lemon juice (we won’t call it lemonade)

And the dead weight of dates make the palm bend


as neon parakeets collect their sweet treasures and

leave the gems behind to grow. And

the shrieks of a hungry child- who might just

be tired-don’t you know? and a switch to their bright smile,

see the eyes of an opening mind and the stretch

of a waking soul and the wonder and surprise

as their world unfolds

watch this pitter patter of chitter chatter

over chai

not so

freshly pressed,
burning ankle and rental
a weight falling as if
gravity was growing
a plane ticket crawling
closer to cover the millimetre
time is broken it
tells of yesterday and tomorrow
all at once in a slur of words
forgets the now as it
tries to web its way around
a whole life to contain it but
look- there are bits always falling
out the net is ever breaking
-you should have made it stronger
when it was in the making!
now its done and the ocean has won
so just let it all go and embrace
something more eternal.