Your Life, My Breath

I will wait an eternity
with every breath
as my head bursts upwards
through the waves
and the sea air reminds me
once again
of you.

Your Life, My Breath Writers own photo.

Writers own photo.

 

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Serenity

I sit and see serenity in the shallows
Tidal waters subside into gentle ripples
Sand crabs scurry from hole to hole
A hawk flies high over his domain.

I sit and see serenity in the shallows
Above the quiet I hear echoes of laughter
I see shadows of children
As they splash cool water
On each other’s brown smiling faces.

Children running into the lagoon
Kicking up the salt water
Invigorated by a sense of freedom and belonging.

Where are they now?
Why is it only shadows I see?
White clouds glide overhead unknowing.

Sons and daughters of sons and daughters
Lost in the remoteness of cities and outback towns
Why did it change with such neglect?

I sit and see serenity in the shallows
A small child toddles past
Pale toes kick up the salt water
Invigorated by a sense of freedom and belonging.

I walk into the tea coloured water
It rises up my body
Years fade beneath the surface
I cup my hands and splash my face
Salt water blends with salt water
And I’m invigorated by my sense of freedom and belonging.

Glenrock Lagoon.  Writers own photo.

Glenrock Lagoon.
Writers own photo.

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A New Year

A new year for all
Just round the bend
Embrace it with love
Let the fun never end

Look back at a childhood
When love was so pure
Dancing and prancing
Though a future unsure

Yet, the memories bind us
To a time when we knew
How to listen to soft whispers
Through the She Oaks wind blew

Riding fast through a field
On a hill top to rest
By a lone Pomegranate
To sit and feel blessed

Watching fireflies sparkle
Under Mulberry trees
Knowing they are faeries
And dancing with glee

To the river we’d race
Against the flow we’d build dams
And the cold river water
Would numb our small hands

The ocean still calls
To relax and amaze
At the blue of the horizon
On hot summer days

Good memories are precious
Never let them go
Yet, keep making new ones
With your loved ones in tow.

photo credit: jonny.hunter via photopin cc

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Tricks and Tea Leaves

Mason’s head bounced as his car bumped its way along the dirt road leading to the beach house. He wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to house sit over the weekend for his work colleague. The occasional, ‘hey mate’, in the corridor at work, was the extent of their communication. Mason knew Bill was single, surfed and played guitar.

The house, Mason was told, ‘Is awesome dude! You’ll love it! You can see the ocean from the back of the house. You can smell the sea air.’

Hmm. Mason decided it was the ocean views that played a part in his decision. Pulling into the driveway, Mason’s tummy started a small one person party of excitement. This could be a very cool weekend. He found the keys under the doormat where Bill told him they’d be.

Original, thought Mason.

On opening the front door, an Alsatian almost knocked Mason over. The dog leapt up with joy at having a visitor and Mason’s, ‘Down boyo, down!’ didn’t register with the dog one iota.

‘Woof, woof, woof!’

‘O.K, O.K, settle down big fella,’ said Mason. Walking through the house, Mason’s eyes widened at the ornaments and oddities taking up floor and wall space. An old Indian cigar box statue greeted him when he entered the lounge room. Well, that’s damn cool. One wall was covered with hats of all shapes and sizes, while another wall was covered with guitars. Hell yeah! Mason threw himself onto the lounge and rolled around in the colourful throws and blankets, before remembering his age and laughing at himself.

‘Woof, woof, woof!’ barked the dog, and leapt onto the lounge to join in the fun.  Mason picked up his bag and searched for the bedroom. ‘Come on boyo, show me around,’ said Mason. ‘Woof,’ was the reply.

Finding the main bedroom, Mason walked straight to the oversized window behind the wooden bed head, and gazed at the view. Mason grabbed onto the bed head as dizziness washed over him. The back of the house was high up,  with a back yard petering down into a gully. It was a tropical garden with no back fence. The boundary of where the back yard ended and the beach scrub began, was obscured by trees and palms. Over the top of the garden, Mason watched the waves roll in from the ocean. He opened the window and tasted the salt air on his tongue.

That’s it then. I’m in heaven. I’m never leaving, thought Mason.

He tossed his bag on the bed and stared at the ocean for a long while. Mason felt his shoulders relax as he took long deep breaths.

Shame I don’t have a hot chick to share this with, thought Mason. Sigh.

‘Right boyo,’ said Mason. Let’s unpack the food!

On turning around to exit the bedroom, Mason stopped. With a nervous laugh, he walked closer to the corner of the bedroom. On top of a low boy, surrounded by piles of clothes and half hidden behind the bedroom door, was the most horrific doll Mason had ever seen. He inched his way closer still, with no intention of touching the thing. It looked like a puppet, and certainly not one you would use to entertain children.

Holy shit, thought Mason. It has fangs. Cree…ee…py!

‘What the hell is that?’ said Mason to the dog. The dog looked up at Mason, gave a small wag of his tale and wandered into the lounge room. Mason shrugged and followed the dog. Mason found the kitchen, and a note on the round table caught his attention.

Hey Mason dude

Enjoy your stay. Rufus will love you. Eat and drink what you like. My home is your home. Thanks again, mate. See ya tomorrow night.

Cheers

Bill

‘Hello there, Rufus,’ said Mason. Rufus responded with a wag of his tale and a wide grin.

So, eat and drink what I like hey? Hee hee.

Mason opened the fridge, freezer and pantry cupboard doors with a healthy eagerness to see what he could find. The pantry had numerous small jars containing herbs, spices, nuts and grains, and different varieties of tea leaves. A tea diffuser was sitting on the kitchen bench.

Whoa, this guy is organised.

Mason unpacked his esky, grabbed a coffee and a sandwich, after which he loaded Rufus into the car and drove down the dirt road to the beach. A few hours of surfing and beach combing returned Mason’s appetite.

‘I’m starvin’. How about we head home and cook up some pizza?’ Mason asked Rufus. Rufus looked back to the car and barked. When Mason pulled up at the house and turned off his engine, the quietness of the surrounds and the isolation of the house hit him. The last house before this one had been a few kilometres back up the road.

Not sure I could live in such a quiet spot full time, thought Mason. It’s kinda eerie.

Back in the kitchen, Mason put on the jug to make a cup of tea, while waiting for the pizza to cook. Some of the jars of tea were labelled and the rest were bare. Mason was a tea snob. He couldn’t decide between an Oolong, a black tea named ‘Sangria Punch’, or a clean green. Always eager to try new tea, he picked up the jar labelled ‘Pink Lady’ containing fine, pale pink tea leaves. When the boiling water hit the tea leaves Mason’s nose lifted to the scent. His first sip turned up the corners of his mouth into a grin.

‘Woof,’ barked Rufus. ‘Oh, sorry big fella,’ said Mason. Come on and we’ll find your bikkies. Rufus lead Mason into a laundry off the side deck. Mason gave Rufus a scoop of bikkies and checked his water bowl. With that done, he went back through a side door into the lounge room towards the kitchen. It was late afternoon so Mason flicked on an upright lamp on his way through.

Chuckle chuckle

Mason turned to the hallway at the sound. The wind had picked up and was blowing through the hallway from the bedroom towards Mason. Hmm…..damn wind is making noises. He walked in to the bedroom and closed the window. The sun was about to disappear on the horizon. An amber glow speared Mason’s eyes. Wow, beautiful. On turning around Mason thought he caught movement in the corner of his eye. Taking a good look, and shaking his head, he decided it was nothing.  He glared at the creepy doll to give himself some shaky confidence, shook his head and walked back to the kitchen. Mason downed the rest of his tea and started on the pizza.

Chuckle chuckle

Rufus gave a low growl as he walked back into the kitchen.  ‘You hearing things too ha?’ said Mason. Rufus wagged his tail, looked at the pizza and back at Mason. ‘O.K big fella, you can have one piece,’ said Mason. ‘Woof woof,’ barked Rufus. Mason took his pizza into the lounge room and switched on the TV.

This’ll do the trick. Too damn quiet here, and the noise of the ocean is playing tricks on me, thought Mason.

Rufus jumped up on the lounge and the two of them watched a couple of old reruns. Mason’s eyes started to close so he dragged himself up for bed. He put Rufus out on the veranda. Rufus whined after he closed and locked the door. ‘Sorry big fella,’ said Mason through the door. Mason threw himself on the bed, gave one quick glance at the creepy doll before he turned out bedside light, then fell instantly asleep.

Mason awoke to the sound of drums. Huh? What? He shook his head twice and looked about the room.  His eyes adjusted to the light. A full moon was shining through the window.  The bedroom was washed in a hazy blue. The drums became louder and Mason turned to look out the window.  He was surprised to see a row of fire torches lighting the back yard. What the hell? People in robes were lined up leading to a high backed chair which reminded Mason of a throne. The throne was facing away from Mason. He couldn’t make out the faces of the people. He thought it was odd they weren’t chatting to each other. What kind of whacked out ritual is this? Mason tried to remember if his mate had told him about anyone using the backyard this night. He couldn’t remember. He decided they looked harmless. May as well have a cup of tea now I’m awake, and might mosey on down and say hi.

Mason walked sleepily into the lounge room, and surprise number two hit him like a kick in the groin. Holy crap! I must be sleep walking. There were children of all ages seated on the lounge. Mason stopped and stared.

‘Woof, woof,’ came Rufus from outside, followed by a low growl. All the children lifted their heads as one and looked towards the door. A girl of about eight years old, who had a small baby on her hip, turned to Mason.

Chuckle, chuckle.

The baby spoke to Mason as an adult. All the children looked at Mason. Only the whites of their eyes were showing. Mason tried to wipe his brow with a shaky hand, where a cold sweat had broken out. His legs began to shake.

‘Leave us alone,’ said the baby. Do not interfere. Our father is looking after us. He is restoring our sight. We’ll split you open and eat you if you stop this process.

The baby showed a mouth full of sharp razored teeth as it grinned at Mason.

Mason backed slowly out of the room, sure he must be dreaming, and decided he didn’t need a cup of tea after all. The sweat running down his face was stinging his eyes. How about that? So realistic.

Mason walked to the bed and took one more look out the window. A figure peeked around the side of the throne. It was the doll from the bedroom and he was grinning at Mason. A person stumbled away from the throne, and Mason could see that their eyes had been gouged out.

Chuckle, chuckle.

This sound had definitely come from the corner of the bedroom. Mason turned around and saw the creepy doll starting to stand up. A shudder went through the house, and Mason almost fell over. Dream or no dream, I’m outta here. I’ve slept in the car before plenty of times. This is freakin’ too freaked out for me! Mason grabbed a pillow and ran out through the lounge room. ‘We’ll come and get you soon. Our hunger is growing,’ said the baby. After fumbling to unlock the door, Mason ran out and banged it shut behind him. Rufus was right there growling. ‘Come on Rufus,’ said Mason. Actually, please come and crash in the car with me?

‘Woof, woof,’ barked Rufus and ran behind Mason out towards the car. Feeling so full of panic, Mason ran around to the front of the house, and smack, straight into a low lying tree branch. He staggered then fell.

‘Dude, dude!’ Someone was shaking Mason’s shoulders.

‘No, no, no! Get away!’ mumbled Mason.

‘Oh damn!’ said Bill. He felt the lump on Mason’s forehead, and Mason jumped. ‘What have you been up to mate?’ said Bill. Slowly Mason lifted his head and moved into a sitting position.

‘The doll, the children, the ritual’, said Mason. I dreamed the freakiest dream and that bloody creepy doll kept chuckling at me, so I decided to sleep in the car. Rufus came up and gave Mason a big, slobbery lick on the cheek. You know, hey Rufus? Mason looked at Bill.

‘Oh shit,’ said Bill. Rufus was growling right? He does every night when the possums come out of the garage roof. I don’t know what doll your rambling on about either. I don’t have any dolls. I’m sorry mate. You didn’t happen to drink any tea yesterday did you? As in, a particular pink blend?

‘What?’ said Mason. Yeah, a nice one, Pink something or other. It was sweet as. Why?

‘Oh dude, I’m so sorry,’ said Bill, who was by now having a quiet laugh. That’s my own blend, dude. I grow a special herb down the back amongst the greenery, and mix it with tea leaves. It’s still in an experimental stage. Um, I forgot to put it away before I left. Like, you’ve never seen pink tea leaves right? Why the hell would you drink it?

But, but…the doll…..

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Cali and the River

It was after lunchtime when Cali arrived at her destination. The trip had taken two hours and the road was good. Great! No holes in the dirt road.

The trees lining either side of the road, cast motley shadows making the holes hard to see. Pooh to that, thought Cali, much better this time! This trip was smoother, though no less dusty. When Cali opened the boot of her car the interior and all the contents were covered in brown dust. Oh well, not to worry. Cali was happy whilst unpacking her car and soaked up the quiet, with only the bird calls and the soft sound of the river to be heard. Cali was in awe of the beauty and the peace of the old sawmill village, even though she had been coming here for years.

With the power and water to the cabin turned on, and the car unpacked, Cali was able to sit with a coffee and absorb the smell of the native frangipani growing behind the cabin. A kookaburra flew down and perched on the chair where Cali’s feet were resting. His beak was scratched and dented from years of whacking his prey against the tree branches. Aww, you want some sausage, Cali asked the kookaburra, as she hand fed the old bird.

Cali’s friends would be arriving throughout the afternoon. Until then, the village was empty. Before that though, Cali fancied a trip down to the riverbed. It was the first week of spring and the air temperature was as warm as a summer’s day. A cool swim is just what I need, thought Cali. A strange yearning to go to the river by herself flitted through Cali’s mind. Whistling, Cali walked to the end of the road running through the village, and stopped at the bridge which crossed the river. There were stinging nettles and Cali carefully stepped around them to make her way down the steep slope to the riverbed, positioning each foot into a crevice. It’s so dry, thought Cali. No moss to side step this time. Jeez, we need rain.

The river was the lowest Cali had seen in a long time. The rocks and pebbles were exposed and the pools of water were clear. It was so quiet. A slight breeze was rustling through the trees up high. Cali sat and put her feet in the cool water. The minute she did this, Cali heard a whisper, or was it the wind?

The whisper was a woman’s voice and she said “Tell me your name?” Cali wondered if she had gone mad; well madder. There was not a person in sight and the voice sounded odd. Choosing to ignore the voice, Cali stripped off her clothes and gingerly eased herself into the water. A little way up, the rocks were formed into a rounded seat, and the water gushed over as a miniature waterfall. Cali swam over and sat with her back to the water. Sitting there naked was a sensual feeling Cali liked. The whisper came again, “Tell me your name?” it asked.

“Whoever you are, my friends are just up near the bridge,” Cali spoke quietly. Well, that’s just brilliant, Cali thought. Now I am speaking out loud to the wind. Suddenly a figure emerged out of the water in front of Cali. It was a woman’s figure made of small and medium sized river rocks. The rocks were smooth and round and highlighted the curves of the woman’s body.

Cali made to run and the woman of the river spoke. “I know why you are here. The river runs through your body as it does mine. Sit down and we will speak. Don’t be afraid.”

Thinking she must have climbed onto the warm rocks, fallen asleep and was dreaming, Cali stayed where she was. When things couldn’t get any weirder, a man made of tree emerged from between two she-oaks. He was tall with hard, strong looking limbs. He sat down in front of Cali and said “We are here to befriend you, not frighten you. We have only a few who can see us and speak to us, and it’s been a long time between friends.”

Cali allowed the serenity of the river to wash over her, and listened to the stories told by her new friends.

This is a whacked out dream….  

River bath

River bath

As they spoke, the new friends moved closer to each other. Cali leant back closing her eyes, and felt the water running between her thighs and over her nipples. The woman of the river sat behind Cali and gently held her, and the man of the trees moved himself towards Cali. The three molded together. Cali experienced a rush of warmth through her body that was at odds with the cool river water. When she opened her eyes, Cali was alone.

Whoa, hold on a damn minute, what was that?

Cali quickly rock hopped back to the bank of the river, and made her way up the slope to the bridge. Squinting at the bright sun, Cali heard another whisper in the wind, “We are always here, come back one day. You are most welcome”. Cali heard a car coming up the dusty road and quickly dried herself off with the towel.

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Spring’s Bleeding Heart

Spring evokes excitement.
I smell Spring.
I breathe Spring.

And yet.

Spring evokes sadness.
I remember good times.
I cry.

Spring evokes haunting.
Carefree days.
City lights at night.

Spring evokes life.
I watch as an outsider.
A hidden being.

Spring evokes love.
Too much.
I hurt.

Spring evokes passion.
Wasted.
Let me be.

Spring evokes hope.
It has no right.
Set me free.

Spring evokes kisses.
Sweet longing at night.
Mornings alone.

Spring evokes images of you.
Your life.
Shared so freely.

Spring please be over.
I can’t bare it.
Any longer.

My heart bleeds.
Spring’s joy is not mine.
This time.

Bleeding Heart Rose

Writer’s Own Photo

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Sing Me a Song of a Pirate Named Red

A sailor she is, her name is Red Nelly.

From the wharf at Tortuga as a babe she was saved,

By the Captain alone, high was the tide.

The mother had vanquished, her life one of dread,

As brought by the French to occupy men.

 

A pirate’s life is the scandal of Red.

A long auburn plait falls down from her head.

It reaches her hip, a trademark well known,

For the red of her hair is the red of her heart.

A cutlass she wields, to bleed men apart.

In trousers untanned, belt, hat and boots.

Red has strength of a dragon to fight and to loot.

 

The sloop from Bermuda is thought of in awe.

It carries fourteen guns, room for no more.

The English and French are at odds to agree

Taking Sea’s Star would bring treasure and glee.

 

One dark misty night on the warm Caribbean,

Not a sound could be heard, cards all played out.

Red kept her watch to the ebb and the roll,

Licking her lips, tasting salt of her birth

And wonders when next they will fight for the gold.

 

A ship full of Spaniards, hidden by dark,

Greed in their minds, cold is their hearts.

A cannon sounds boom, the sailors awake

With rum in their guts and grease on their face,

A shudder from all, knowing this is their fate.

 

The captain feels grieved, when the ship pulls up close.

The Spanish swing over, knives sticking the chests

Of his crew, a brave lot, they fight back as a force.

Stabbing and cutting, knives holding forth.

The depths of the ocean may be their last port.

 

A fair buccaneer for whom sailors have toiled,

An old dog is the captain; his time may be near.

He remembers a child, Red laughing and free,

Til her softness was stolen, no more to be seen.

 

The Spaniard attacks, his eyes wide, no fear.

 

A figure emerges and lets out a roar.

It is Red and her cutlass with rage in her heart

She slices the throat of the Spaniard with ease.

Blood sprays on her chest, her scourge is unleashed.

One by one she does kill to even the score.

 

A tale told by few on land and afar.

Outdone by Red Nelly, a shame, an untruth.

A safeguard is Red, for the captain, her pa.

photo credit: p medved via photopin cc

photo credit: p medved via photopin cc

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Feel

Feel sorrow of those behind closed doors
A secret garden wilts
Souls engulfed by fearce remorse
Hidden beneath throes of guilt.

Feel emptiness in eyes so sad
Shadows upon the mind
No twinkle of light in all that’s mad
Be brave, seek more and find.

Feel victory in the morning sun
Conquered life once more
Be a soldier who has won
A new day to explore.

Feel memories of a broken heart
Let fall, the falling leaves
Gliding down as they depart
Never dwell, once you have grieved.

Feel the fragrance of a rose in bloom
Embrace with all your might
Ward off feelings of solemn gloom
Fight them through the night.

Feel a child’s laughter
Pure innocence and glee
Repel whispers to depart
Live your right, it’s to be free.

Feel warmth whilst all is cold
Let the lighthouse guide you
A life lived by one whose bold
Delights in rainbows bright hues.

Feel strength in wind
Which does bend trees low
Withstand, be tall once more
Be not alone, through life’s cruel storms
But leave an open door.

Feel happiness in your own worth
Be a hero to yourself
Kindness breeds joy on this our earth
Never lose your sense of self.

Feel

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The Ocean

I wander the streets,
Cold, lonely and grey.
A city of pavements
Crowds step them daily
Past tall soulless buildings,
Entombed in a plight.
No light in this city,
Only shadows in flight.

I think as I wander
Of sun, sand, and rock pools.
A child’s sweet laughter.
Sandcastles, seaweed jewels.
How a bed full of seashells,
Blooming love, smelling pure,
Tickles my senses,
As I walk the sea-shore.

I walk up a hill.
I look down far below.

Over the bar, a high tide.
Waves clear, bluey green.
I hear a child giggle.
I run toward the sound.
My hair in the breeze
Til my toes touch the sand.

I look over my shoulder
To the place I had been.
It was cold, grey and lonely,
Shadows still seen.
A shudder goes through me.
I turn back around.
I take a step forward.
I smile at the ground.

Waves crash the rocks.
I stroll into the sea.
Remembrance of salt water
And times I was free.
Happiness returns,
As I study the swell.
No more cold, no more grey.

My loneliness quelled.

The Ocean

Writer’s own photo.

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The Track

I walk along the twisted track.

Falling leaves touch my face.

Fingers of coolness.

I whistle a happy song.

I see an object up ahead.

The brown camera I’d left on my bed.

I pick it up; I have a look.

It was only a picture of me,

As I walked along the twisted track,

Falling leaves touching my face,

A slight breeze lifting my hair.

I called her name “Alex?”

Was she here or round the bend?

My sister was doing just as I.

Falling leaves touch her face.

Fingers of coolness.

A slight breeze lifting her hair.

I looked left to right.

Where could she be?

I noticed a ribbon on a flowery bush.

On leaning over to pick it up,

The ground gave way and I fell.

Down into the mine shaft.

The breeze left at the top.

I landed with a heavy heart,

To the bottom and heard a cry.

The falling leaves kept falling.

My sister looking up at the sky.

She broke my fall as she called my name.

I turned and held her tight.

“Oh sister, oh sister I hurt so much!”

My special sister cried.

I whistled a song we sang as children.

I watched her slowly die.

I walk along the twisted track.

Falling leaves touch my face

Fingers of coolness.

A slight breeze lifts my hair.

I whistle a sad, sad song.

 

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