Category Archives: Poetry

Greyscale

I

The air is thick with it.

 

Not exhaust fumes

or factory emissions.

Not bonfire, barbeque

or cigarette smoke.

 

Not anything that

speaks of life.

 

These are the flames,

the sparks,

the vapours,

of death.

 

Death

to the material world.

 

Death

to the great

Australian dream.

 

Death

to sense of place

and belonging.

 

All is burnt,

Burnt to the ground.

 

Annihilation

of beloved homes,

long held dreams

and tangible memories.

 

 

II

So helpless they stand

and watch –

their life’s work

going up in smoke.

 

Everything now lost to

the raging firestorm.

 

What will they do and

where will they go?

Homeless, destitute… survivors.

 

III

Not a single soul stirs.

 

All hues of colour erased,

the landscape; desaturated.

 

Everything…

now grey scale.

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CRUSHED

I

Strong hands have crushed you,

heavy boots trampled you.

 

You’re so flat

you couldn’t get any flatter –

any closer to nothingness.

 

You wonder

if you still have a heart –

it’s been so crushed,

so battered and bruised.

 

You’re so broken…

you cannot see your pieces

fitting together again.

Are all the parts of you

still there to recover?

 

You’ve lost who you were

and no longer know who you are,

never mind who you’re meant to be.

 

You wonder how you can go on like this.

Truth is, you can’t.

You’re like broken glass –

sharp fragments scattered across pavement –

pick up one slither and you’ll bleed,

crying out in pain for the cuts.

 

 

II

But wounds heal.

It will be okay.

You will be okay.

 

If you want yourself back,

pick up the hurt pieces.

Do it

regardless of the pain it causes.

 

You have to face each sharp,

mirrored slither

and put yourself together again.

 

Time will glue and hold

the parts of you together.

Time is your friend,

so be patient with it.

 

 

III

Do not lose courage.

There is a mighty lion in you,

brave and strong.

Release it –

let it roar and roam free.

You’ll see how well it serves you.

 

Be the version of you that you want.

Be anyone but that broken soul –

lost and hopeless,

cold

in a warm, sentient body.

 

Don’t give up, I beg of you.

Life is at your fingertips –

claim it!

 

Rise up!

Take charge of you.

One day soon, you’ll see…

Maybe you’ll even realise

just how beautiful you are.

 

 

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