Almost part of the sky,
as the embrace of solace eases the sadness.
You will be sitting at home reading or playing a game,
yet you’re not now.
Now you’re just ash,
and I am now alone.
Alone
Category: memories
A Sea Memory
Siblings and cousins
Games an inflatable Tyre
Falling back; time stopped inside the sea
A hand pulls me from the depths
My brother saved me
Sitting with Mum
Yellow and blue kitchen tiles,
that old stainless steel sink and tap.
Odd porcelain cups, saucers and plates,
that kitchen bench with roses in a vase.
Strawberry rhubarb pie in the wood oven,
sitting with Mum at her favourite spot.
Haiku: Brother
To find you standing
beside me, alive and well
speaking once again.
Happy Birthday, Brother!
David died in 2015 (not long after his 46th birthday), yet I still think about how my brother used to say my name. I miss him. He would be 53 today.
Haiku: Lose
Nothing left to lose,
except for memories of
love and Petrichor.
Sea Glass & Sandstone
Wading in the sea glass and the sandstone,
look for the place where you used to stand,
thinking back to every time we came here.
An image of you returns.
I cannot remove that image from my mind;
you continue haunting
my life, my mind, and this place of our own.
Wading with only beautiful memories of you,
hearing the bombs fall,
my heart and my mind yearn to see you again.
Haiku: Green Dress
Favourite green dress
Worn until the cotton frayed
Another green dress
Haiku: Hug & Tea
Mum, you are over
three thousand kilometres from
a hug and some tea.
Sacrament
This piece is about my late Father, a paranoid schizophrenic, and me, the one who could not break free from his words and the feelings of guilt I felt for him until I was 20.
A visible symbol of the reality of god,
the sacrament awaits a blessing from the priest.
Veiled and obedient, you take the Eucharist without question;
the closest you will get to god as an imperfect woman.
You sit down veiled, hidden, obedient, and controlled;
you must kneel beside Father as he whispers, ‘You are possessed’.
The veil hides the shame of what you know; you do not believe the words your Father speaks, and you do not believe the man at the altar.
The burden of knowledge and your quiet nature hide the truth inside;
Does your Father know you do not believe in his paranoia and lies?
You walk home beside your Father as you have done for so long.
Caged by your Father; no friends, no one to call, no home, no family.
The walls close in as he offers you a glass of milk and then speaks to you for six hours about your possession, secret government plots, and your mother.
You know no way to break free from this cage; there isn’t much left, and all you have is rage.
A burning fire to succeed, to be free of him, and to be free of his words and schizophrenia.
Luck finds you in the form of education.
You break free from his cage, only to discover it was never the man at
the altar you hated; it was the man who stood by your side: your Father.
Dripping with Curiosity
The door you can never enter,
intricate patterns carved into the door.
A child should be seen and not heard,
so you dared never enter the wooden door.
Older, you arrive at the house from long ago;
no longer a child, yet you have the heart of a child.
No longer afraid, you are dripping with curiosity.
To hell with it, you whisper,
then turn the handle and walk into the room.
Your Grandmother sits at her desk,
within a room of dreams and magic,
‘I wondered when you would join me.’
You smile and take the stars within your hands;
now you are ready for your mother’s secrets.
‘You have always been a witch, and now it is time to become one. Welcome to the heart of our coven, my beautiful Granddaughter.
I wish your mother could see this day, yet you know she still lingers.’
C & K 