Tag Archives: poem

Tasmania

I live in a winter jungle

that sits in the middle of a cloud

where you inhale mountains

and sigh rivers,

overlooking bottomless canyons

and rolling fields of golden earth.

This misty and ancient rainforest

is a sacred place I share

with exotic birds and curious mammals,

with thunderous waterfalls

perched in wild forests;

quite literally in the middle of nowhere

there lies this Paradise I call

home.

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Transparent Emotions

When she is sorrowful
the skies cloud around her eyelids
and her face closes
like shutters.
When she is angry
her skin flushes
vibrant, rich crimson,
the colour of vicious sunsets
and boiled blood.

But oh, when she is happy
she puts the stars to shame
with the brightness of her smile
and none have ever composed
a sweeter melody
than her laugh.

St. Patrick’s Day

There was a party
I went to when I was sixteen
at a stranger’s house
– friend-of-a-friend’s friend –
and for the first few hours
it was a warm, golden glow
a happy and tipsy paradise
of adolescence
and cheap alcohol.
But the clock struck
a sixth or eighth or tenth drink
and stranger’s hands
– friend-of-a-friend’s hands –
bruised my flesh
so I used cheap excuses and beer
as crutches to lean on
when they reached out
a sixth or eighth or tenth time
from a third or fourth or fifth boy
whose names I couldn’t even remember.
I never said “no”;
the thought turns my skin pink
where there fingerprints
once touched me;
but I never said “yes” either,
never invited strangers
– friend-of-a-friend’s whatever –
to invade my precious
personal fucking space
and this thought
turns the boiling blood surging through my body
into a future of
abhorring alcohol
and staying home.
I wondered that night
as I threw up
my eleventh drink
whose fault it had been
and not knowing where to throw my hatred
it shadowed me
and I kept silent about it
but oh yes,
it happened to
me too.