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We went for a walk in the twilight darkness, grey sky insidious, friendly purple leaves tinkled and gave way to forest green, wet stone steps led down through a fantasy of tangled branches, the smell of jasmine cool against the smell of rain. We walked along the water, silent, rippling, grey-green-blue and dark grey sky …

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Sydney

(This is intended as a spoken word poem, but I'm as-of-yet too reticent to film myself.) I’m Sydney intolerant. This city absorbs my warmth with its brick facades and through some silent alchemy spits it back at me, cold, lifeless. This city wakes me up at night with the brightness of its lights, empty promises, …

a memorial

a three-legged butterfly alights on my jumper in the sun-drenched graveyard of three thousand souls.

A Museum

Their ghosts press in on me, still screaming demanding they be heard. They press with the weight of 1362 feet of steel. They refuse to be ignored I must know their weight and carry it though I know none of them they are not my kinsmen. Yet I strain to listen and bear their weight I …

Moment Lab

All these words come toward me through clasped hands and eager eyes tightly shut. I am water, a river, flowing fast, steady, confident, light, heavy forward and large, blue a field sun but without that sunset sunlight. Hands touch softly I'm arrested pinned and see-through hesitant now open, an energy, a furrowed brow a cautious …

Sunday

A saxophone plays in Central Park, New York City. A warm breeze blows like an armistice over boulders and across wild grass, carrying birdsong - one among myriad languages that pop and fizz around street vendors beneath their umbrellas. A mustard and ketchup smile spreads over my face. Everyone is themselves, And I am me, And …