such a shame
these watery graves
the ones that get saved
never feel the same
rivers swell
gutters thirsty as hell
and i watch people scramble
within an inch of their lives
possessions swallowed by a monster tide
the news coverage is wet and long
and i sit on my couch thirsty
in front of my fan
willing the rain to stop
so i can get back my tan
i heard the water sucked them down
spat them out thirty miles down the track
but no one can recognise them
they look different
their colour has leaked out
ribbons of hair
framing faces
i am not there
there is chaos on the TV screen
threats of disease
flowing down stream
i wonder what’s in the kitchen to eat
switch it off and get to my feet
don’t let the sadness in
crawl up inside my sheets
close my eyes
but as faithless said...
i can’t get no sleep
too much happening in between
Crushing on:
Theophilus London
twice born
of wooden ships
thrice formed
through mother's hips
mother ships
graced tu lips
a poet's garden
i presented
my feminine side
with flowers
she cut the stems
and placed them gently
down my throat
and these tu lips
might soon eclipse
your brightest hopes
- saul williams -
Chester's 1st Bone !
Happy Guy
I had a momentary pre mid-life crisis freak out today. Twenty-nine days until i am twenty-six. i figure that i should get my mid life crisis out of the way now, so when i'm rolling into my mid thirties to forties, i will be a content and solid character.
there is a typical flow that most lives follow. i see it with my family and i see it with a lot of my friends. mid twenties is a time to work out where you want to be heading and you learn all you can and work the long hours to get there. you still have the innocence of youth on your side, and most mistakes are just another notch in your belt. they don't cement the flow, but etch out the diversions along the way like the rings inside a tree. parents start becoming fallible and you can now understand what it must have took to get you here... safe but armed with critical thought.
i often wonder what older people were doing at my age. i wonder about their mindset and what they had achieved. i think about marriage and wonder if i will be one of the lucky ones. i wonder what thoughts i will cradle in my mind when i think back to this time.
i am always checking under my feet to make sure i am on the right track. i just don't believe in the whole two steps forward, one step back crap. always evolving, never static.
so these are my last days of laying claim to the 'early twenties' collective. i'm moving up and starting to question my non-liberal use of anti-aging cream. looking forward to the stories behind those wrinkles. of love and love lost and all the magic in between.
the mind has been made up: i am getting a VW convertible in the new year.
Chesty La Roux
Chesty Chew Choo
s t r a n g e r s
I have not been back here since April. Seven days to contemplate exactly where I need to be. I am still trying to strike a balance between the city and the sea. This place always spoilt me. There were days where I forgot about how important the weather was. It was always just there, like the warmth was somehow built into each season.
Then there was a shift. I am not sure when it happened, but the idea of coming back home lost its currency. I no longer dreamt of what it would be like to be back there again. My feet got used to being in boots and the cold was just another thread woven into the fabric of this city. I saw eye to eye with it and it never questioned why I came running into its arms with my tail between my legs. It let me be. It kept me safe. I was comfortable being a stranger here.
It got to the point where coming home was never as stirring as I thought it would be. I would plan my time off and fly back with hopes high at the potential of being back and feeling something again. Two days into the trip and I was done with it and pining for the anonymity of the city. The familiarity deflated me. It was unsurprising, predictable and it judged me for turning my back on it. In return, I resented it for not evolving with me. We had a grown apart and now we were strangers.
That’s the strangest feeling of all, feeling detached from the place you called home for over five years. I wanted it to feel like home, but that is a feeling that can’t be bought. It either is or it isn’t. Looking back, it seems like just another pinpoint on the map.
Still though, as strange as it feels, I have no other place worthy of calling home. Regardless of past resentments and current criticisms, when my feet hit the ground I know exactly where I am.
Just for the record, I am completely aware of how irritating these pup posts must be. But you know what? He's a really cool guy. You'll see.
Check those paws. Kills me x
s w e e t n e c e s s i t y
C h e s t e r D r a w s !
you + me
sitting in a tree
finger bang dream
It’s raining again and my clothes don’t want to dry. I have a head full of ideas and endless amounts of time. In the background the dream lingers; electric and untouchable through typing fingers. Next to me sits a restless dog, his head on my lap as he chews through some hide. When he looks me in the eye he gives me peace of mind, a string that connects me to the world outside, a hairy little man that never wants to leave my side. The heater radiates its tinny beat, gasping for air as it spits out some heat. It clicks itself off when it thinks it’s heating up, far from cold but still not enough. I switch it back on and tidy the room, the morning has now turned into afternoon. My mind wanders off interstate, thinking about family of late. Not even sure if I miss that place. Twenty-five months and it feels like home. Twenty-five years and I’ve ticked some boxes; I’ve seen more wins than losses. All this time there’s this little thing inside, an idea wanting to be realised. Still think about it late at night. Losing sleep but not the fight.
To Market to Market
Getting our market on at Finders Keepers.
Note Cheray's cheeky giggle which was caffeine infused for the entire 2 days. Saucy. More images at http://thedesignfiles.net/
finders keepers melbourne
p i g e o n h o l e
I was born in the wrong era.
All I ever wanted was to be in my mid twenties during the uprising of the grunge movement in Seattle. I wanted to wear long-sleeved flannies and grow my hair out super long and messy.
I also wanted to marry Eddie Vedder from Pearl Jam.
When Pearl Jam toured in 1996, I was only 12 years old and according to my Mum, was way too young to go to a rock concert by myself.
Bitterly disappointing.
Pearl Jam, Nirvana, Stone Temple Pilots, Soundgarden & The Smashing Pumpkins: I salute you.
The love lives on.
