See where the barramundi swim impatient in rough tidal waves that water, it recedes and leaves me I could give chase ah but no I will not step down to that level I know that she…

Its is not my plan to forage emotions to dig them up from the dirt of trauma and angst but there is no nectar to suckle even if my tongue is parched some of my memories…

Looking out the window restless heart dreaming of flying through the night sky I stand on tiptoe stretch my arms up high hoping to capture a reluctant star instead I must rock the baby fretting in his…

oceanic journey waves shatter against the hull we welcome the water catch the rainbow fish that fall into our laps gifts from the father of the sea there are nothing but storm clouds on the distant horizon…

a cacophony of sound early in the morning the smell of breakfast coffee and bacon biscuits and eggs dates and a full calendar an appetite for each other when all the lights are off frustration worn away by sweat poetry…

You avant-garde superstition is a relentless anthem, painted in magnificent strokes. It pulls from the haunted evening sky with deep purples of midnight. It invades my too-fast cycle of thoughts as I lie awake staring up…

Its time to pamper myself by saying no by walking away by breaking off chunks of the chip on my shoulder revel in the soil of our world bask in the glory of the sun mellow but…

Choices made of trauma layers of life worn like a suit of armor meant to protect me but built too thick so that no one can touch me and my heart is cold and lonely…

I cannot sink back into the girl I was This woman I am- She is sturdy, she is solid She has been slipped and scored with smoothed out joins only a little dizzy from the cycles on the…