A dog digging a hole is happy Sometimes they are digging to bury a bone Or investigate a noise Lost in the digging they avoid all thought other than I Am Digging But when they surface happily panting A little wild eyed Is when the reality arrives And they wonder if perhaps that great and […]
The Bridge I’ve Been Building I’ve been walking toward this for a long time. For me, writing poetry has never been about craft or output.It’s about return.It’s how I come back to myself when the world — or my own patterns — have carried me too far away. I was thinking about it this morning […]
What if what’s up there isn’t heaven? What if hell is not below? What if both are not places but presences — things that live in the spaces all around us, shifting their nature according to our thoughts? What if we know nothing about death or dying? What if we don’t go anywhere — we’re […]
Love is the catch in your chest Sometimes painful It’s the emotion that runs fingertips through your flesh And grips It’s nothing you can control I feel it when I think of this earth sometimes — People disappearing down the plughole of the internet Resurfacing “elsewhere” Uncaring for this aliveness Out here I try to […]
A poem about the artist returning to self after creating all day seen through the metaphor of the hawk.
A poem that asks how a writer can hold space for people to arrive at their discovery without explanation, honours presence and personal insight over the presumption to give advice, or explain anything.
A poem written beneath the sky and the pressure of being. A reflection on solitude, soul, and remembering who we are before the noise.
To rise before the sun, run before the day has begun. A poem that heeds the pull of instinct over materialism and, in doing so, aligns with integrity and finds freedom from everyday constraints.
Perhaps the part of me that has something to say About grass And the broad expanse of ink black sky Sprinkled with stars An orange moon Surprisingly wonky Reminds me to breathe That life is more than pressure And bustle And hustle That people should really be told What I yell sometimes in my heart […]
Who are you at 3am Sitting on the front step Staring into the darkness Lit by thousands of stars Perhaps a full moon (But not together They are sort of a one or the other Shine The stars fade when the moon is bright) Who are you then? At 3am As you sip coffee and […]
