0

To matter – A poem

4504A535-4075-497D-8F2B-D9DFC636C94D.JPG

The world is so big
And I know I am small
If I don’t matter to anyone,
Do I matter at all?

Do I matter to them?
Do I matter to you?
I hope that I matter
But matter to who?

Do I tiptoe through hearts?
Do I skip through minds
Of lonely souls
Longing to find

A voice to lift
Their ragged bones,
To dry their tears
Or soften their moans.

Do I matter to whispers,
To stolen glances,
To silent smiles,
Do they dream of dances?

Maybe I matter to those
I’m yet to find
But if I matter to mysteries,
Or not, I don’t mind.

But why does it matter
That I matter to you?
Surely it matters more
That the sky is still blue.

I’ve gone as far to accept
That I’m destined to be
Stuck in this skeleton
Yet still I’m more free

Than most might think.

I tell myself
It’s enough that I am,
I am part of the world
And I’m part of its plan.

But if I know that I am
And still sometimes I shatter
‘I am’ can’t be enough
If still I don’t matter.

What’s alive keeps the living
Growing and flowing.
What’s the point in ‘I am’
If I don’t keep something glowing?

But a soul is still a soul,
A life still a life
And life will pass through me
Like day turns to night.

All the matters only exist,
While I am alive.
I am part of the world
I am here to thrive.

I am as much of a life
As all that I see,
I am living as strongly
As the tall of a tree

As the warmth of the sun
As the rhythm of the sea
If I don’t matter at all,
At least I matter to me.

The only soul
I’ll ever know
Is the one who fuels
My skin and bones.

So if I have to live
With all I’ll be
Then maybe it matters
That I matter to me.

But what if it’s more?
Maybe the world would be
Missing a piece of alive
If it weren’t for me.

But if I matter to the world
There must be others too.
I must matter to them
I must matter to you.

I matter to me,
And anyone new.

 

Do I matter at all?
Maybe I do.

0

To everyone I’ve ever written about – A poem

To everyone I’ve ever written about,

I’m not sure if you realise, but
I have immortalised your soul
In the walls of my words.
I hope you don’t mind
That you will live on for the eternity
That my words do.
Your existence is known to all
Although no one knows your name.
Even as my words decay,
All that I wrote
Will always have been written.
Perhaps every person is immortalised
Inside the cage of someone’s heart.
I guess there’s just more evidence of you.
I’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted.

Yours sincerely,
A writer.

0

To write what I can’t – A poem

moon

My tongue will twist around words
Unable to be spoken,
My voice box choked
By your ineffable beauty.
Your glorious grace,
Not perfect for all
But perfect for me.

The butterflies will
Haunt my hands
As the frantic flutter
Of so many wings
Shakes my bones
And rumbles through my veins.

I won’t be able to keep hold of a pen,
All of my mind
Preoccupied
With seeing and breathing
And seeking and finding all of you.

I will see the artistry of your soul
Leaking out of
The way you string your sentences
Or the way you smile
Or the way you do anything,
Really.

My mind will stumble
And trip and mumble
Over you.
Not quite able to find words
Within the jumble
To perfectly describe
The colours of you.
The words are lost
To write you
As beautifully as Iwant to.

But I strive to write what I can’t.

0

Mind of its own – A poem

Sometimes I think
My thoughts
Are also thinking.
Like thoughts inside thoughts.
They whisper between
Each other
And one another.
That’s why sometimes
I don’t know how I feel.
That’s why sometimes
My head is cloudy
Filled with the static
Of susurrus sounds.
They giggle amongst themselves
When I’m feeling on top of the world,
Because they think it will be funny
When they push me

And I fall.

0

Map of time – A poem and illustration

map of time rgb.jpg

What if
All that was,
Is,
And will be
Is constant?
What if it has all
Already happened
And is happening
Continuously,
Right now,
But each of us is only capable
Of consciously knowing
One spot at a time.
What if time is a place
And not its own
Abstract entity
That we’re all led to believe?
What if time
Is a map?
And all that was, is,
And will be
Are just points,
Coordinates.
This map holds our journey
Of life,
And what if we simply travel
Across time,
Instead of through it.
What if all these ups and downs
And leaps and bounds
Are just us climbing mountains
Of time.
What if this map
Holds the knowledge
Of all our predestined
Destinations
As check point flags,
And it’s just our job
To find them.
Maybe we all have a path
Laid out for us,
But sometimes we stumble
Off the side
As our mind
Mumbles wishes
And our heart itches
For something out the corner
Of our eye.
Then maybe we get lost
And everything
Starts to crumble
And tumble
Until we find out way
Back on track.
Our itch
Has been scratched
And in our mind
There’s a switch
As we click
Back into place.
Back on our path
Across the mountain range
The forests
The plains
Through the pain
The gain
The rivers and rain
The insane and mundane
Again
And again.
Our destinations
Already exist
But it’s up to us
How we get there.
So nothing will ever be boring
If we find a path
Filled with heres, theres
And everywheres
Somewheres
Nowheres,
If we feel
All emotions
And watch the motions
Of life.
Life
Is so magical
If you let it be.
Just remember
That no matter where your footsteps go
You will end up
Exactly where you are meant
To be going.
So stop thinking so much.
And don’t forget
To enjoy the journey.

0

yesterday – some poems, photos and thoughts.

these photos
are fresh –
a fiction
a fantasy
I never thought
would become
a memory
fleeting
frozen
turned into forever
fragments
of days spent together
with faces
now familiar
I’m flooded
with feelings
of faith
fate has helped me
find my way
and this
experience
is like a film
that used to be
only behind a screen
out of reach
but this is how
I was supposed
to be
to flourish
I am filled
with a fountain
of happiness
and freedom
far from all
I’ve learned to know
I am allowed to forget
and follow only me
I can fly
without fear
of falling
because I know
if and when
I fall
I will float
like a feather
I have found my place
I feel fresh
I feel new
I feel awake
and I can’t wait
for all the feelings
my future will make

 
Processed with VSCO with e3 presetProcessed with VSCO with e3 presetProcessed with VSCO with e3 presetProcessed with VSCO with e3 presetProcessed with VSCO with e3 presetProcessed with VSCO with e3 presetProcessed with VSCO with e3 presetProcessed with VSCO with e3 preset

To see more of these lovely ladies here are their Instagrams 🙂
@georgiaslater
@jess_kuss

Processed with VSCO with e3 preset

I am so small
compared to the sky
the ocean
nature
the world
I could never compete
with such vast expanses
of colour.
But I am still a carrier
of life.
I still carry part of
the sky
the ocean
nature
the world
within me.
And that is enough.

Processed with VSCO with e3 presetProcessed with VSCO with e3 presetProcessed with VSCO with e3 presetProcessed with VSCO with e3 preset

I feel I am
on top of the world
but really
I’m just standing
in a different place
in a different position.
This is nothing
but a new perspective.
Still,
from here,
everything seems so small
yet the world
so big.
A magnificent cluster
of specks.
I am a speck too
but I have temporarily
floated away.
This solitude
and separation
shows me
that no matter how
big or important
the world inside my head
may seem
really, it is just another speck.
So I
(and all of us)
should stop worrying so much
about specks,
because when you see things
from above,
you realise
they really don’t matter
at all.

Processed with VSCO with e3 preset

Honestly it was slightly weird to be so outside in the world and have something so inside and manmade like couches among us.

Processed with VSCO with e3 preset

the paradox of insignificance

Seeing a place where I spend all my time from above or the outside, really shows me just how small and insignificant I am. I am just a speck. But if every speck is insignificant and I am a speck in a cluster of insignificances, yet together we are significant…

am I really insignificant at all?

Processed with VSCO with e3 preset

I remember being very uncomfortable when this photo was taken because I was stuck in the middle of kicking over but it wasn’t going smoothly. However, when I look at this picture I feel an overwhelming sense of calm and serenity wash over me because it feels like I an just floating so perfectly in space. I look so balanced.

Processed with VSCO with e3 presetProcessed with VSCO with e3 preset

I think photos have an incredible power to capture balance, even if it didn’t really exist in the moment.

Processed with VSCO with e3 presetProcessed with VSCO with e3 preset

Admiring our masterpieces 🙂

Processed with VSCO with e3 preset

happy chappy.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA          Processed with VSCO with e3 preset

portraits of me

Processed with VSCO with e3 preset

soaking in the sun.
turning my face towards the light.
feeling a warm embrace
from nature.

 

the other side of my camera:

Processed with VSCO with e3 preset

details:

Processed with VSCO with e3 presetProcessed with VSCO with e3 preset

landscape:

Processed with VSCO with e1 presetProcessed with VSCO with e3 preset

portraits:

Processed with VSCO with e3 presetProcessed with VSCO with e3 presetProcessed with VSCO with e3 presetProcessed with VSCO with e3 presetIMG_4113Processed with VSCO with e3 preset

I went on an adventure to Adelaide’s wonderful Mount Osmond yesterday and took lots of pictures with a couple of friends. I have too many photos to post them all to Instagram so I decided I’d make a bit of a gallery/scrapbook on here, because I wanted to package them all together in a nice memory box. So this was it… complete with some poems and thoughts as well.

Special thanks to the ones behind/in front of the cameras :)))

 

our Instagrams:

@laurenkathleen_
@georgiaslater
@jess_kuss

 

1

Messages in bottles – A poem

Just the sight
Of these ominous oceans
Gives me the feeling
That these rocking motions
Are actually
Living in my heart
And my stomach.
The blue seems
So open.
So empty.
But I know it isn’t.
I know it is swarming
With an infinity
Of possibilities.
The fear of the unknown
Is overwhelming.
It consumes more of me
Than there is of me,
But I think my oceans are rising
With the more time
That is passing.
The more I hold on,
The more the waters come alive
With longing
For what I’m clinging to.
They are sick of waiting.
It is time to set my poems free
Before the waves steal them from me.
I think I’m ready
To collect my thoughts into bottles
And set them out to sea.