Adrift – A poem

Maybe I’m a drifter
Drifting

I’ve seen so many drift

Yet
I let them

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The ways a place can hold you

There are different ways a place can hold memories. Sometimes you see them and other times you feel them. It might be just a breath, other times the feeling can consume you. But either way it moves you and either way it’s there.

Sometimes it can be like a waft of familiar perfume that makes your heart skip a beat. Or it’s like you travelled back in time and you’re no longer standing there but surrounded by your past unfolding in front of you. As if your soul escapes your body for a moment and the only thing possible for you to do is stand there and feel it.

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Sometimes I wish I could be like a tree – a documentation of growing pains.

Sometimes I wish I could be like a tree.

If I were a tree at least I’d know my purpose (or I wouldn’t know I had one).

But instead I’m here, not still but not moving, questioning…

Who am I supposed to be?

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Adventures in film

I have recently acquired an old film camera of my dads. I’ve been wanting to shoot film for ages and ages but have been waiting for the perfect opportunity to try it out before investing lots of money in a camera.. so when this one simply fell into my hands I was beyond thrilled. I’ve…

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Things the trees told me – A poem

Today the trees told me
That when their branches creak above me
It means they’re listening
And if I hear them whispering
They’re talking about me.
Today the trees told me
All the things they overhear
When we’re near enough
And our minds are loud
Every thought we think is clear.
The trees talked and listened to me today

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My front porch – A poem

Whenever my breath feels stale but I need to breathe, I sit on my front porch (preferably in the early morning But sometimes afternoon) Only when it’s sunny (Usually I have to squint my eyes but I don’t mind) It cleanses me in a funny sort of way (Even when it’s loud with endless planes…

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