New beginnings and different endings

For as long as we have clouds, sunshine
We will have sunsets and sunrise
For as long as we have early morning risers and star gazers
We will have an appreciation of infinite possibilities.

For as long as we have the crimson, gold
and pink delicacy of a tropical sunset
The azure, green and gold where jungle, sun and sea meet
We will have an appreciation of chance creation

For as long as we have the misty blue haze of mountain silhouettes
and sparkling fire water
The piercing sparkle, razzle dazzle rays and invigorating warmth of an airborne sun
We will have an appreciation of new beginnings and different endings

For as long as we have an appreciation of sunsets and sunrises
We will have an appreciation of infinite possibilities

Enjoying the feel of things

I'm enjoying the feel of things at the moment. I'm not sure if its extra sensitiveness in my hands, or particular focus on the here and now. Maybe its the awareness of an impending departure. I'm not sure, I'm just enjoying the feel of things at the moment.

Enjoying the feel of things


The rough yet soft touch of freshly washed, low-thread count cotton sheets pulled tight every morning
The tiny, rapid percussion of air on my ear drums as the rain beats the roof
The goose-bump inducing caress of a fan propelled breeze over my belly

The contrast between the worn-out smoothness and the grain in the hewn boat boards on my bare feet
The unexpected splash of fine sea spray from the bow on my face and hands,
The heaviness of dew droplets clinging to my eyebrows and eyelashes, the sea trying to close my eyes

The soothing, swaying displacement of fluid in my ears and brain from the swing of the hammock
The inconsistent, gentle buffeting of the storm breeze, tugging at clothes as if demanding attention
The warm play of light through clouds and trees on insistent, relaxed, thankful, closed eyelids

The thick, creamyness of the air in my nostrils in the afternoon
The aroma of impending rain, the fresh bite of cleanliness shortly after and eventually the breathy sigh of the land as it accepts the water into its body

The smooth and deep feel of freshly washed, high-thread count cotton sheets pulled loose at night
The trusting heaviness of a head on my chest
The tickle of tussled hair in my nose

The Leavers Curse

The Air is thick with the smell of steam, rotten and pure, salty and fresh

It is stirred by the breath of the sea,  a whisper on the back of my knee

Lightning brightens the sky in clusters, rhythmic and pulsing

Heavenly fans and clouds of thunder play acoustic rythyms on the leaves

It is tranquil

The Mind is thick with thoughts of feelings, ripe and firm, toxins and chemicals

It is stirred by actions of late, a curse across my conscience

Neurons sparkle and die in torrents , fizzing and bubbling

Whisps of guilt and threads of doubt play their string harmonies on my Soul

It is confused

The Gizzard is thick with the intuition of navigation, impulsive and divine,  twisty and straight

It is stirred by the threat of indecision, a result of duplicate feelings

Pathways open and close in staccato succession, crackling, bidding and biding

Intrinsic knowledge and learned stereotypes play their synthesiser trash on my Mind

It is ready

The Soul is thick with words of paranoia, hesitant and bipolar, critical and constructive

It is stirred by thoughts of duplicate feelings, due to actions of late

Arguments jump from words, flapping, fitting and flying or dying

Memory and conscience hum to the harmonies of guilt and doubt, playing with Me

It is advertised.

The Water is thick with tidings of the storm, hot and cool, wet and frothy

It is stirred by the pull of the moon, a tormentor of hormones and lonely dogs

Monsters be hiding here and there, quilling, gilling and sometimes grilling

Waves from near and far play their percussion concerto on the sand

It is time

The Air, the Mind, the Gizzard, the Soul, the Water

It is tranquil, it is confused, it is ready, it is advertised, it is time

It is me. 

Just say Yes

Yes, yes, yesyesyes.
Its not that hard to improve the world
Just say 'Yes'.
Don't think too long
Or dilly dally your decision
When some-one asks,
Just say 'Yes'.

Place some trust in your friends
When they ask,
Just say 'Yes'.

Its not that hard to make a difference
Just say 'Yes'
Don't use sarcasm
or make a joke
When some-one asks,
Just say 'Yes'.

Boost your colleagues self esteem,
When they ask,
Just say 'Yes'.

Its really easy to get what you want
Just say 'Yes'
Don't be a doubter
Or a hater
When someone asks
Just say 'Yes'

Mike life easier for yourself
When you ask
Just say 'Yes'

Whirlpool

The environment here is just damn strange
There are different currents going many different ways
At times I'm stuck in a whirlpool of human emotions, mine and others.

At once
Fighting strongly in the rough chop of intellectual challenge
Enjoying my work
And then
Tiring and drowning under waves of cultural misunderstanding
Despairing the work

Once again
Buoyed and lifted by an unexpected gust of inspiration
Applauding the development world
And then
Depressed and sucked under by carelessness and arrogance
Despising the development world

Once more
Whipped into ecstasy and elation whirling around and around
Meeting new people
And then
Spat into a backwater, still, quiet, deep, cold and devoid of anything remotely human.
All alone

A guiding light

In a world of shades and shadows
You were my beacon in the dark
Your sweet innocence draws a crowd
I'm but one, a moth to your halo.

You spread waves of light against the tide of darkness
It flickers and flutters
Rippling to the pulse of an uncertain beat
At risk of being gutted by rips of jealousy
It reverberates slowly

Through the rapids of affection and attention
where rocky hands tear at the crest
Over the the depths of deceit and debauchery
where the peak is lost but the swell remains
Onto the welcome shore of love
where the waves of light deposit bright new grains

This moth follows the beacon
Mindful of the darkness
Greedy for the life giving light
Contemptuous of the heat
Wary of the waters of sin

A spear of spray, a veiling mist of culture
Perilous liquid forms, forever changing, forever unsubstantiated
Weighting the wings, dragging this moth
To the depths of debauchery and deceit.

Where the nebulous lights of the discotheque twinkle and burn
The curious moth investigates each in turn
Failing to learn, each discretion
Stirs up a dark storm of excretion
And sets the white light a'churn.

The forces of darkness rejoice in the muck
They find their missing voice
The light becomes diffused, this moth confused.
Pain ensues and clears the skies
The beacon shines bright, visible again
And this moth heads for the light on weary wings

Dry, rejuvenated and refreshed
Rescued from the shades and shadows of here and now
By the halo, it passes beyond
Leaving the light, to shine bright
To noursih another, on this dangerous voyage

Though rapids of affection and attention
Over depths of deceit and debauchery
Guided by your waves of light
Onto the welcome shores of love.

Parents Post

Us Fullers are not know for our tender turn of phrase
Our honesty is mostly raw and pure, often overwhelming and rarely diplomatic.
We craft our terms and carefully choose our words for just a few special people,
Our family, the tax man, the rich man and opponents in any game of chance.
We travel wide and hold our heads with pride, so
Our independence is renowned in many towns.

My story started with Peter and Anne, I call myself a Fuller thanks to them
They are tough and uncompromising on the surface, soft and sentimental below.
My life has been guided by their caring and my spirit encouraged by their daring
They are always there when I need them and sometimes when I dont
My appreciation for all they have done is not as obvious as it should be,
They are my parents, I cannot thank or love them enough to repay the gift of life.

Its a verb!

Thanks to Stephen Covey whose following words kick started my thoughts

"Love is a verb. Love the feeling is a fruit of love the verb."
To love is to serve, sacrafice, listen, understand, empathize, appreciate, affirm and recognise.
To feel loved is to have loved and to act with the feeling of love.

I acted to serve, blindly and without regard for the problems that I cause
Now, I have listened and understand your fear, anguish, conflict and concern
Ask me but once and I will sacrafice this feeling that I cherish most.
I will appreciate only from afar that attitude of yours, that is a beacon in the dark.
I will remove myself from your path and recognise your progress from the shadows,
I will not be there to affirm the love you give, for I will know then, it is not your love I feel within.

Ask me but once and I will gladly sacrafice this feeling that I cherish most.
For it will be my feeling and needs only what you ask, to be free
But I genuinely thank thee, for helping find it, within me.

Version control

Strong and bold, chest full of air, coat covered in dust with six shooters on his hips
Scant words on his lips, a larrikins sparkle in the eyes and concern on the brow
The hero, always ready to show them how.

Strong and bold, chest full of air, coat covered in dust with six shooters on his hips
Words fit to spit, eyes of the storm and anger in the arch
The hungry hero, in desperate need of starch

Strong and bold, chest full of lead, coat covered in dread with six shooters in his hands
Throat constricted, eyes pale and wet, face flat - expresionless
The desperate hero, not willing to confess.

Strong and bold, chest full of bluff, coat covered in fluff with six shooters of pearl
Spilling words as in a spell, eyes of warmth and teeth brilliant as the sun
The marketing hero, willing to put a price on fun

TBC

Strange feeling

Got a little shock just now, someone was gonna throw a bottle, he was gonna chuck a can.
Realised some of my best friends were racist and I probably was too
What can you do, when your parents would rather shoot you then eat tofu?

Got a little shock just now, someone was gonna go to far, he was gonna cut a man.
Realised a little to late it wasn't the best place for a date
What will she think, when I don't wear a tie or cuff-link

Got a little shock just now, I said something nice, she flashed her pearly whites
Realised all the books were right, happiness is but a fight between your body & brain
What will you say, when at the end of the que they ask "How are you"?

Got a little shock just now, I caught the hidden look, got the subtle sign.
Realised I was blind, naive and probably just plain high
What will we believe in the end, when the end is nigh, fear is rife and there appears to be nothing after life.

Falling upwards

Terribly distracted, a butterfly on the breeze
blown from thought to feeling and,
back again.
Flying forward, flittering and faltering
finding an eddy, calm and peaceful

Its a trap, its a tide or a rip.
An unseen danger, an ice berg
much more than the tip.

Extremely impulsive, a puppy off the lead
following its nose, from certainty to doubt and,
back again.
Running with the scent,
digging up a bone.

Its a prize, its recognition or reward.
An unknown commodity, a risk
much more than you bargained for.

Incredibly terrified, a fish out of water
flipping and flopping from hope to dissapointment and
back again.
Fighting to be free in the sea,
obscure, annonymous, safe.

Its a fight, its winning and losing.
An unknown opponent, ego
much more than you can comprehend.

Absolutely invincible, a teenager haunted by hormones,
chasing a trend, from end to end,
back again.
Ignoring the warning,
falling...

Rythym of Blood

Sweat rolls down my ribs, undulating rapids of bone,
the droplets ripple to the tune of a muscular drum,
pouring out a rythym of blood.

Air catches in my chest, an ivory home
while bile rises in my throat, hairs rise on the dome
my body shakes with the adrenalin rush,
riding on a rythym of blood.

The chase is on and the games begin,
dry lips are licked, rough 'n' rice paper thin,
revealing a cheeky grin.

Neurons sparkle and die
Eyes twinkle, I just might fly.
The stomach line twists and twitches,
a muscular drum beats a hymn of blood.

Fingers linger, flesh bumps and shivers,
the mind moves quick and the synapse is lit,
dreams ignite and spread their light.
Savour every moment of it.

Past, present and future.

Listen to the Exhortation of the Dawn!

Look to this Day!

For it is Life, the very Life of Life.

In its brief course lie all the

Verities and Realities of your Existence.

The Bliss of Growth,

The Glory of Action,

The Splendor of Beauty;

For Yesterday is but a Dream,

And To-morrow is only a Vision;

But To-day well lived makes

Every Yesterday a Dream of Happiness,

And every Tomorrow a Vision of Hope.

Look well therefore to this Day!

Such is the Salutation of the Dawn!

A poem by Kalidasa

Back when I could write....

A poem from back when I could write. Written late 2002 just after settling into Sydney. I think it applies as much today as it did then.

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BLANK PAGE

It’s the first thing you see,
In history, in Life, in Love
And all George Bush’s rage.

Two verses, four words, sixteen paragraphs.
A voice on paper. Two voices to a page.
This page, your world – A library.

Take a pen and lift the bar
A vowel, a verb or a keystroke in time.
Weapons as wit or solace in sympathy.

Not every novel has a plot,
Everyone’s a star in the library of life.