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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.

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Map of time – A poem and illustration

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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.

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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

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

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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.

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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.

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

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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?

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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.

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

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Admiring our masterpieces 🙂

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happy chappy.

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portraits of me

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

 

the other side of my camera:

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details:

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landscape:

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portraits:

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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

 

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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.

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The eye – A poem

I feel as if I am standing in the eye of a storm
With the eurhythmics of the swirling wind
Shouting in my ears a melody that could only be
Comparable to the sound of ghosts
Howling through my chimneys.
This gasconade of chaos and gallimaufry
Has swept up both my angels and my demons
Into the tenacious grip of an unyielding whirl,
As the air surrounding my cynosure
Becomes obnubilated by the minacious tumult.
The turbulence of emotion writhens the atmosphere,
Permeating it with anguish, despondency
And melancholy sorrows,
But also with relief, euphoria
And the birth of new hope.
But while this turmoil may seem electrifying,
And from the exterior, may look tempting,
In the eye of the storm, it’s not as exciting,
When inside I feel only empty.

 

This is an experimental poem I actually wrote quite a long while ago. I just rediscovered it and thought I’d share it. It was a challenge for myself during creative block to find some long, complex words that were new to me and write a poem with them. I think it ended up working quite well because the use of all the chaotic words made the poem seem more wild, which fit the theme of cyclones and storms.

 

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Every second of me – A poem

I would try to forget your touch
But could never bring myself
To burn the memories
I knew I would one day learn to treasure.
I am a scrapbook
Of everyone’s touches
Everyone’s words; compliments
Or confidence crushers
I am a mix tape
Of the songs I sing in the shower
And the ones that touched my heart
Or made me blink back those
Bus tears.
I am a compilation of proud moments
Memories
And manic Monday’s
Experiences
Experiments
Mornings I woke in an unknown world
Because my dream took me somewhere magical.
Nights too excited to sleep
Birthday candles
Cutting cake wishes
I am a collage of everything I love
And everything I don’t.
The moments I choose to photograph
And all the moments I won’t.
I am everything I’ve ever laughed at
And all the times I’ve cried
I am all the times I’ve hidden away
And I am how I hold my pride.
I am a unique concoction
Of every second of me.
And without any one of those moments
I simply wouldn’t be.

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I wish I could live constantly in the frozen moments of mornings – some photos from yesterday.

a journal entry | 23/01/2018

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I had wanted to get up early and go on a walk by 9 or 9:30am at the latest. I never really get to experience the morning at its purest, and I guess I just wanted to today. But I didn’t get out of the house till 10:30am, which was still okay.

I wish I could constantly live in just mornings and evenings. Mornings are so quiet and peaceful. Fresh. They haven’t yet had the chance to dry out in the sun.

The sun is warm without burning and the shade is cool without making me shiver. I don’t usually like to say things are perfect but, mornings at this time of year are pretty perfect. At least to me.

Even nature sounds more quiet that during the rest of the day.

Mornings are slow. Like evenings. I wish I could always live slowly, instead of constantly being caught up in the rush. Sometimes I wish I could live in moments, because moments are always slower than time. I wish I could constantly live in the frozen moments of mornings.

Here are some photos I took yesterday morning’s walk:

bird on a pole.

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lots of pictures of the same red flowers.

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and some pink flowers.

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sunlit bridge.

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the last two flowers along a fence.

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some pictures that serve no real purpose but I like the focus.

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hoping no strangers walk past.

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preparing for a brawl (not really but it looks like they’re circling each other).

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and finally some peppercorns.

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