Thursday, 19 February 2009

You can Fly.

I hear you in a whisper
On the reckless mountaintop,
I hear you in the echo
Of the Eagles as they drop.

I find you in reflections
Where your shadow's only seen
By the indistinct ripples
Of a still and tranquil screen.

I find you out here,
Outside, in the light.
I refuse to see your past
On a cold and lonely night.

Refuse to see you
Reduced simply to stone.
The body is yours,
But your life is unknown.

You live out here,
In the echoes; the wonder;
The trees that you climbed
As you tried to reach thunder.

You live out here,
Where you danced on the shore.
Where you gazed at the sky;
And wished those wings were yours.
And you wished you'd never die,
But now, my darling,
You can fly.

A reflection,
An Eagle,
An echo,
I leave you.


Tuesday, 10 February 2009


This red of passion, of fury, of vengeance
Curls its fingertips around the resting landscape
Ravishing it in life as it meets its death
As people, they try to make their escape.
I watch from a land so closely involved,
Frustratingly miles across the sea.
I wish my thoughts could somehow help;
Right now the world seems a cruel place to me.
We fear and we run from the unknown
And just as we think it is tamed,
We realise that the beauty of nature
Is a danger, a mystery, not yet explained.

I just want to say, whether the crisis in Australia is a natural disaster, or man-made 'mass murder', I hope the situation improves. And I know I can't help, and this won't help, but my thoughts are with all of those who didn't make it; all of those who have fought bravely against the immense power of the flames, and with all of the people who have been affected. I wish you the best.

Monday, 9 February 2009

Excuse me.

So, Mister President,

I saw your words today,
Falling from the mirror of your mistakes.
A mirage of joyous images
Sinking to their knees in your triumph.
You, the embodiment of all that is wrong,
Were standing on top of the world
While we fell to your jealous commands.

So, excuse me
When I tell you I am silently smiling
For your reign of half trodden footsteps is over.

So, excuse me
When I tell you the sun is finally out
And the frost that turned bitter in our souls is lifting.

So I saw your tear today,
As you realised your comfort was no more
Than a splinter found in snow.
As you realised our security in you was only that one day
You would leave.
And so we no longer had to bow beneath your foolish heart.

So, excuse me
When I tell you this era has come just in time.
And to see you leave is to see the dark clouds thinning.

So, excuse me
When I tell you this new era, with this growing hero
Marks the end of a drought, and a flood, and a war, and a conflict.
Marks the end of you.

So, I saw you look down upon his enigmatic smile,
Shaking your head at an enthusiasm you've forged throughout the fog.
But this world, it needs the flash of a summer smile
In the heaviest winter it has ever known.

So, excuse me, Mister Bush,
While I celebrate the end of your naive control,
And don't so much as wave goodbye.

Excuse me,
But my eyes are focused elsewhere; towards the horizon,
Where I see the smile
Of a summer world.

But summer does not come without its trials
And melting snow is the hardest to stay steady on.

So, goodbye, Bush.
And good luck, Obama.