Sideways fell off the table

Photo by Dan Fraser


Sometimes when the air is thin

and sounds are soft and humming

I wonder are there endings

do we come to ends

or are they changes in direction

changes in dimension

or perception

what’s the colour of this moment

did sideways fall off the table

did backwards disappear

who is here

does one of us have ears

and the other tongue

which one am I

are you listening

is every direction not straight ahead

did you hear that sound

I think something fell off the table


Photo by Dan Fraser


Seized by the mystery

of the space between bones

and muscles

the air between breathing

water running through walls

I walk softly on the solitary molecules

of skin

rest easy on the cushion

of the lack of words

leaving and returning

seems like a complete explanation

The poetry delivery service

Photo by Dan Fraser


The poetry delivery service

mostly works at night

sometimes they drop off

a nicely wrapped package

that I can’t wait to open

other times I find only hints

and rusty signposts

off in a memory bush

or off balance observations

without any words

that’s when I have to get to work

once in a while I have to remind myself

not to be too tricky

just tell people what I want to say


Photo by Dan Fraser


I didn’t want to be the one

with a past of wrinkled flowers

wishing they had grown

into what they already were


I didn’t want to be the one

wearing clouds for glasses

with a heart longing for wings

to fly in the treetops of joy


I didn’t want to be the one

who woke in a distant morning

wondering whose eyes were moving

in the wrinkled mirror


Photo by Dan Fraser

Silence is not the absence

of sound

it is a line drawn

between empty and complete

a mind in that space

do not require a body

Troubled by peace

Photo by Dan Fraser

Troubled by the peace

of silence

in the night

I take consolation

in the music of the blood

singing through my veins

Wake up

Photo by Dan Fraser

There is a harmony

in the slap of life’s loving hands

across my sleeping face

wake up wake up they say

as the tides of joy and pain

birth and death rise and fall

rise and fall


Photo by Dan Fraser

The paradoxical combination

of the surging ebbing energy

of the thundering universe

and the apparent choices

of the  essentially creative mind

spins and whirls through every moment

of the entire loving oneness of it all