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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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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Used to – A Poem

I got used to the way
The wind in the chimneys
Sounded like ghosts.
You get used to all the things
That scare you
Disappoint you
Hurt you
When they’ve happened
So many times
Yet got no further than
The fright
The disappointment
The pain.

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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.

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Can Ghosts Die?

There are some places I’ll never go back to. Not because they meant nothing to me, or because they are not worthy of my revisit, but because they meant too much. Because they hold memories of a person who has left my body. A me who is no longer. A me who helped build the…

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The day brings a fire brigade – a poem

I think the hours wear us away Perhaps more than we think. They wear away our guards. Our masks. All the things that protect Our most vulnerable selves. That’s why in the dark I am suddenly powerful. I can’t see the things that scare me. At midnight I can do anything. Maybe it’s just because…

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Masterpiece – A Poem

I am a masterpiece in progress. Constantly Endlessly Painting and repainting my bones In the colour that I think fits me best, But nothing stays just right for very long. At first a colour may seem rich And powerful Like the passion of burgundy red, But as it seeps into my marrow It becomes nothing…

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To the Bottom of the Ocean – A (quite long) Poem

I jumped off the jetty. Or maybe I fell, Too busy with my face turned toward the sun. Floating in the water now I’m somehow So far away. Alone. My feet dance Searching for the familiarity Of feeling sand between my toes But all I’m doing is treading water, The ocean slipping through my fingers…

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