Tag Archives: father

Mum and Dad

Click here for the full post about my Mum and Dad.


Crackling Leaves and Soup


My father is here to

entice art from the sky,

his instrument of choice,

a sort of….

musical obscurity,

an ancient  silver rising

of voices and tide.

He swings a racket

to capture dreams,

and earths them …..

like lightening,

crackling leaves

and soup.

He is a lover of marmalade

bitter and orange

and his smile you ask


his smile is

a winter fire

a lullaby

his smile is Shangri-la.



Sweet Me



Finding the sweet me

is a forever journey

a soul trip

to inner space

amongst the mist

worlds that

exist ed

before I could think

When my heart was  jupiter

and you my mother

my father

my feathered gods that

swung me left and right

up up

missing the fan blades

instilling a grounded earthly love

for something

blue and green

a painterly  lean

a thick  plastering of sensational life

I flew the roads and climbed the mountainous peaks

dancing the backs of cashmere  goats

I have breathed shallow on the arsenicum ridges

been plaintive in my call

but strength becomes me now

and oceans float my

salty toes

to shore

Finding the


in the folds of satin ink

amongst wildflowers and faces

a journey


and incomplete

Cider and Stars

My father’s teaching house was a wonderful, leaning thing,

thick with toxic fumes and creativity.

My school next door, however, an imposing beast.

A glutton for unhappy children and alcoholic ladies, with red front teeth and spanking on their minds…

After school dust followed me everywhere, sticking like an Australian summer.

My mind already in Dad’s art-house, anticipation mixing mud and colours!

Each day on my journey, I climbed the Moreton Bay Fig, to a birdhouse nestled in the wisest crook, to check inside for feathers.

I eagerly awaited a nest, a speckled egg or two, but always empty….still my imagination urged me on, a confident soldier!

This day I faced the tree in all it’s rough splendour and scuttled up, little skirt flying.

My leafy view was a spyhole and Dad an ant under my shiny brown gaze; my love rained silver on that world.

With reverent expectation, I lifted the lid of the bird-house, what to see?

A gleaming red thing, a glorious apple!

Bigger than the eggs I had imagined, with their wild gold shells, I needed two hands to carry this treasure!

So with an apple shaped package in my green school knickers,

I made my way to earth with a bite of magic that unveiled distinct possibilities.

The truth, I was Eve’s descendant, gifted forever with the return of sweet opportunity.

How I rejoiced in my blood globe token,

of knowledge,

of beautiful sin,

of pagan thrill

of paternal adoration

of connection to my god heart.

I was sure my father had put it there given as he was

to things that made you believe in something else.

His denial was fervent though and to this day,

so, unless his, is a 35 yr old secret,

I am the bearer of wizardry sweet and a calling so dear that my birdhouse remains to its brim, ever filled,

with sparkling cider and stars.

Sand and Feathers

Feet and art make I (n) den tati on

the earth

the heart

is large and deep thinking

the hull, buoyant and safe

the smile

sometimes steel sometimes butter

squeezes  in between words

like itatoron

do flying fish have feathers


Owls tell me father’s secret

his love is not hollow noise


like air and sand

his guidance, life’s lion

like north point


magnetic, magnifi  (sent)

to me



or bird

fear (ce)

feet and feathers

His heart is my boat





My father’s





Something More Than Mediocre

Push dangle

wringle wrangle

Fiddle squish

make a wish………………..

Little joker great Heyokah

something more than


Come here,

go away

walk slower,

run faster

fuck you

zen master!

101 ways to

trust you

love you


Find it in the



’Rufus round and  round.’

Sylvester’s magic pebble

his Father finally found

His mother wished

His father kissed