on existing

I have been told the only way we exist is through what we say about ourselves and what others say about us.
So please note...

I am a dreamer
a lover, a teacher, a hero
I am a peacemaker
a child, a fighter, a sister
I am a learner
a student, a daughter, a neighbor
I am a friend
a cousin, a grand-daughter, a thinker
I am an inspiration
an actor, a server, a romantic
I am a woman
a stranger, a face, a mystery
I am an angel
a watcher, an observer, a participant
I am a leader
a teammate, a worker, a pon
I am a princess
a hippy, a jock, a dancer
I am an artist
a driver, a writer, a director
I am a human
a runner, an athlete, a psycho
I am a comedian
a stone, a listener, a saint
I am a liar but a joker

and so I exist.

The Recipe of Forgiveness

To look beyond the deed and into the eyes of the beholder.
To recognize the hurt as pain of impossibility.
To stand again, looking face to face.
To learn longer breaths.
To release tension.

I stand before you. Fully aware of your capabilities of harm. I am a survivor of your war. I have learned to hate and I have learned to love.
I have to learned to hate love;
yet to crave every aspect of it.
Every touch and every taste. Every memory that soaks into my soul.
The recipe of forgiveness that those who eat, beg for more. Forgiveness that is cooked time and time again; for those to swallow and race to intake the last piece.

Once again I am here. My oven roasting from fire I have burnt inside. Fire which falls of tears could never put out. Fire that I can only turn off with the completed masterpiece of forgiveness.

How difficult it is to gather the ingredients. The pain and damage; the recognition of love and the denial of hate. The fear to hope that the recipe will no longer be needed with continuous practice to know through memory. The strength to stand. The motivation to begin again. The memory never forgotten; only easier to recall.

Do not second guess the ingredient of love; for no taste can be considered perfection without the most important ingredient of love.

I sigh. I inhale the smell of the recipe. Intake a long, smooth breath of air. I pause and slowly release the bitter hatred; the tension and the pain.
Finally I am cured.

The recipe applies to you and to me, as it must be tasted to reach perfection. And perfection is only to strive for, becoming closer and closer each time your favourite recipe enters the oven to cook.

Bring me to my feet.
Open my eyes. Breathe.
I sleep in peace.
Finally.

The recipe of forgiveness is forever fulfilling.

written: Monday, august 14, 2006; but always applicable.

On Nimbin

I went to Nimbin for a day
Took my troubles far away
Felt my body heat right up
Was a volcano to erupt

Let the sun soak on in
Let us take a ride
Up and Up, round and round
For the first time I'm alive

Just Fred and I
Climbing higher than high
Together in this land
Crazy thoughts we'll understand

I have followed the light
I'm at the gates of rights
Jesus here with me
In heaven to be free

yesterday nimbin, november 26-2007

Ring of Dreams

Pass on the dream
From me onto you
I needed it to look at
But now I know it's true

To dream, to strive, to conquer
The world's at our hands
Look to your ring, remember
You can travel many lands

It's there as a symbol
Until you put it down
You'll realise you don't need it
Reality of your dreams is 'round

on being closed

I am a closed book hidden on the shelf. I am up high, among the other books so easy to reach and to open. It takes an extra climb; an extra step of effort to reach me. I'm pretty dusty in fact, as it's been so long I've rested. I've stayed closed for years, untouched and unexposed. I have so much wisdom to share; so many stories you'd love to hear. However, I stay on the top shelf, closed for those seeking for truth, for hope, for answers. I may carry what you need, but we'll never know for sure, as I stay on the top shelf, too difficult to climb to and left to only observe below. I was written with care, looked over and over again to make sure my words are of perfection. I first began as a simple idea- a domino of idea after idea after idea. So many thoughts organised to words and placed between hard covers. And now I remain, between books that are between books. I wonder if anyone will take the time or the effort to reach this high, to discover who I am. I wonder if I'll open up and have the opportunity to share my knowledge, my wisdom, my creativity. I am a unique book; I'm just waiting to be opened.

How I crave your eyes, and attention; your choice to soak me in.

written december 26 1:57am

On How to Deal...

I would like to think that dealing with it later really means it will go away and I just won't have to deal with it at all.

I would like to think it will just go away and I can live in a bubble that simply floats among the sunny rays, gently grazed with a brush of air; to change way and to flow into another direction away from the one before.

How we kid ourselves.

How we wish to be a kid. To be protected from words of harm; from harsh news; from unpleasant people. To play. We all play in that mind; we are that child that never grows up but only hides in a body that ages- a body we desperately depend on to carry us through.

I would like to think we could all just be that kid we know hides inside rather than pretend to be responsible and mature; pretend to be strong and powerful. Instead we just become adults whom children look up to and think we have it all figured out.
And we pretend we do.

When do we lose the honesty of a child; the truth that we really do not know; we really are scared and we really do not want to deal or know how to deal with the issues of our lives?
Why can we not figure it out?
What are we so scared of?
Why do we not just deal with it?
Why can we not just admit we do not know how and admit-
hey, I need you.

written December 24th 2007 2:17am

I'm going to tap my drum off beat because you told me I shouldn't
I'm going to sing my song out of key because you told me I couldn't
I'm going to let my body dance free because I knew you wouldn't

All this time I thought I should, but didn't think I could

I'm going to tickle these strings and teach myself how to play
I'm going tap my drum whatever feeling of way
I'll sing my song out of key, just because I can
I'll dance with you, when you join in
When you join in

I'm going to tap my drum off beat because you told me I shouldn't
I'm going to sing my song out of key because you told me I couldn't
I'm going to let my body dance free because I knew you wouldn't
I knew you wouldn't

So tap your foot to my drum and sing along
We've all got a beat that can't go wrong
Come and dance with me
Let me sing my song
We can't go wrong
We can't go wrong

I'm going to tap my drum off beat because you told me I shouldn't
I'm going to sing my song out of key because you told me I couldn't
I'm going to let my body dance free because I knew you wouldn't

Come and dance with me
Let me sing my song
We can't go wrong