New Life

they flew away.

i much prefer
flowers anyway.

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Pineapple Head

she is her.
just being
what she feels,
its who she is.
pure, honest.

i can taste
her spirit.
its sweet; like
pineapple nectar.

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I don’t believe in
Any artificial god
I read tree story

Magic’s born of Mother Earth
Death is all the same as birth

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she cuts her teeth on shadows
of weeping willow. hot dry wind,

blows across the western plain,
engulf the fresh carcass. ceremony

commences. children pay respect in
dance, women through song. old men

capture sound of didgeridoo and clap
sticks; exchanging of gifts. tribute

to sacrifice. bones marry fire. flame
is spirit. girl bears witness to cycle

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i told you
words to a harmony
which you could only hum.

you left me
when i needed you most.

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“My heart is empty and my thoughts are pure. I want for nothing. What’s mine is yours, I’m ready to share it all, everything” … “Yeah I do like keeping my treasure locked away, deep inside the dungeon, but I’ve come to realise; it dies without sunlight, only blossoms in  fresh air.  Pirates know no rules, fate is already written, for one; all bees will die”

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trading rose petals
with a mermaid in the sea
her feathered story

stardust sings a sunburnt land
lovers should die hand in hand

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