unfurling

heaving @ 2009-09-28T17:19:00

2009-09-28T07:19:37Z

biting at the back of me
the hornets in the sky

what a stain on my heart:
the flowers i stole with my
hungry hands

how ashamed

the excruciating blue
your fucked head at dawn
my strange vomitous affection
comparing our wounds

3 moons and the eternal sun
the barren sky
the water so full of dust
the starving black bird and the black wanting wolf
all the black ideas with atmosphere like quicksand.

be still and be.
in the black there is white
in the darkness there is light with
the smell of your cum and
lavendar combined

heaving @ 2008-05-23T23:20:00

2008-05-23T13:20:35Z

why are we all here? are we seeking validation from each other? what leads us to express here and abandon our personal hand written journals? my head is a swirl of contradictions. attempting to abandon myself to chaos, to insanity, to irrationality. not feeling pleased thus far, or capable of loving myself as insane through the eyes of others. looking for someone to see me, so i can better see myself. feeling fruitless in my efforts, knowing why and not being pleased with that either."don't look there, look within". ok easy to say... begin.. here? searching for a holding bay for my thoughts, projecting them onto others for relief of personal responsibility, feeling displeased with this also. feeling displeased with generally.. everything.

everything feels like a grand scheme, an illusion, a matrix. even now my typing is deliberate and odd, but i am propelled to express and i ask myself why? maybe i'm hopeful that it will bring relief, or purpose. the chance of validation will provide definition to my chaos and act as an anchor? always wanting, looking for something from another that i find hard to provide for myself. when will i feel safe? when will i be without the need to feel safe? i think i'll finish here.

heaving @ 2008-05-23T10:11:00

2008-05-23T00:11:31Z

today you blew in like an indian breeze
an armful of oranges from the young dying tree that
gets no light and
dope in your pocket
wailing some ancient russian thing

you took everything i owned
and threw it in the dappled sun on the
patch of weeds with
the spiders and their humble little webs to
air out the sweat and wanting from my
last lover and
to "steal a bit of sunshine
to bring inside" you said.

i sang you a song about
a child i lost that
never woke from their unbeing
to face me and be loved
and you invited me to
love you instead.

i thought:
how could i love you,
the shape shifter, spirit-drunk in
your incessant motion, the jester
the
child of a swolen sun
afraid of my winter moons
flooding out my shadows with your
agressive light

still, i watched you, glorious and erect
in your luminosity
with my full moon face borrowing your
light to be seen
and let you feed me the sour oranges
you bought to me from the dying tree that
gets no light

heaving @ 2007-09-19T10:07:00

2007-09-19T00:07:48Z

there are many reasons why i love living in the forest (and many reasons why i do not) but my discovery this morning was perhaps one reason why i love living here. i discovered why there have been a minimal amount of rats pestering my abode as of late. the reason?

that's an obvious bulge right there! and i discovered him this morning sunbaking and digesting (and he looks as though he might have just shed his skin) right next to my van. so this is my new room mate and i can honestly say i am quite happy about it. i love snakes to absoluteness and to think i have my own live in rat catcher makes me a happy forest dweller indeed!

he was so long i couldn't get him in a full shot. he's about 2 and 1/2 metres long, which is still small for a carpet snake, so he might be young or he might be a she. the matte milky patch of his skin usually indicates that they're shedding or have just shed.
these beauties have been known to attempt to eat babies and really small children. a member of my band caught one that has slid down through the rafters and was about to devour her small son. and her friend caught one covering her baby in spit, getting ready to swallow it. how strange!

heaving @ 2007-09-01T17:12:00

2007-09-01T07:13:01Z

i managed to snatch a picture of the cutest goanna that was hunting in my garden earlier today. i was going to post it immediately but my mother came home with a bottle of 4 buck chuck ( what we called a bottle of cheap wine in school ) and one joint later we were gossiping with fury in the afternoon sun. such is life. < wistful sigh >aaahhh< /wistful sigh >

i'm purely geeko. but we do love sunshine.

this one is a baby, and was approx. 1 1/2 metres long. they've been known to cause damage to the curious human but this one let me follow him/her for quite a while without spazzin' the fuck out kung-fu lizard style.

heaving @ 2007-09-01T10:47:00

2007-09-01T00:47:47Z

spring is gently approaching and after the heavy rain spell my surroundings are looking absolutely lush.

view from side balcony: thinking chair and old mans beard encroaching. the bathtub has a fire place underneath, so you can bathe in the moonlight.

mummas van and teepee. the sacks (floor) are drying after being flooded in.

loungeroom: perfect place to smoke a joint with a good friend (which has been happening quite a bit thus far).

mushrooms love the rain!

my snap dragons are out!

if anyone can find me lipstick this shade i will donate a kidney.

ground covering: violets. the wallabies love these, and always leave little poos around them for me to find each day.

heaving @ 2007-08-26T17:13:00

2007-08-26T07:13:38Z

time is passing far too quickley. so much has happened and i feel as though i need to write down the details so i don't forget them, but i lack the motivation. in short i am living in the forest in my own place. the birds are amazing and i can hear the waterfall at night. i'm in a band and i just finished recording a song for the gathering soundtrack that will be released by julian lennons record company. he also re released salt water wells in my eyes for the soundtrack. i feel overwhelmed. my new love is coming in 3 weeks and we'll see tori amos. i have no money and am being hasseled for rent. but somehow amidst it all i am excited. my heart is open and i am healing fast.

heaving @ 2007-07-06T21:54:00

2007-07-06T11:54:28Z

it's become so cold i don't know what to do with my skin. where to place it, how to sit in it without pulling at my fingers in frustration.
i've taken to defacing people in newspapers, magazines in a habitual manner. you will become ugly because i say so. when on the phone i draw pictures of squares and flowers with tiny heads and long stems. sometimes i fill notebooks up with my signiature. i am still trying my signitaures on, none of them feel right, and my writing hand jerks them out in defiance. i have been searching for one since i was young and learnt that oneday it would be important for me to have one.

heaving @ 2007-07-04T01:06:00

2007-07-03T15:06:12Z

it began with a colourless fire
and a vacant skull
a half skull
taken in and finished

this was a time when i
didn't have to open my mouth to eat
or listen to hear
everything was immediately mine
and i remained quiet and still

i
or the taste of the wind
on my wanting tongue

was enough.

and then it all became a hazard.

i, one of many
who has formed all this skin
and somehow managed a heart

closed the windows.

i, or one of many
peer at it all through
the curtains of my half open hands.

waiting.

not wanting to wait.

heaving @ 2007-06-23T03:04:00

2007-06-22T17:04:47Z

when i first learnt to hear i tried to listen but it eventually became unbearable. the sound of the traffic on the horizon rang like churches and whales and the birds were taunting me in song about a freedom i could not share.

my heart feels displaced, these hands, this head stranded like a foreigner on a slack neck.
somewhere along the line i fell into a gutter
and emerged covered in flesh and bone, sinew, blood and a brain. i scrub and scrub and i can't get them off.

i look in the mirror and i am covered from head to toe. i am pink and bruised. i have shoulders that mold down into arms and hang beside me like deadening helium pockets. these do not feel like mine.

my nose, my ears, my mouth, my cunt
are all portals for things i do not want. and they do not feel like mine.

i press these openings into the floor so things cannot enter. and then i remember the pores on my flesh. on my finger tips they gape large enough for me to fall into. they are wide enough to collect pleas and unsung screams painted in simple words.
they are all over me and i cannot close them. they do not feel like mine to close.

when there is a knock at the door it does not feel like me who hears it. and when i move towards it, it does not feel like me who is moving my legs.

"hello" i say, again and again. "hello" i say, again and again.

hell. oh.

my tongue is a giant slug, weighted and wet.

"hello", i say again, waiting for it to feel like it is mine to say.

"hello" they say, knowing it is theirs. immediately it enters me, like a blunt sword. immediately my ears are copulating with "hello".

i am not posessed. only a foreigner inside of here with no memory of how it came to be. i am an imposter and they do not know. this wall of layering blood and water, muscle and bone. i think of them sucking out my marrow and chewing on my flesh, like i have done to the thigh of a lamb. i think of them stuffing rosemary under my skin, of being roasted and basted and carved. i think of the remnants of a carcass that is not mine, left and done with on a plate. i think of my anatomy settling into the walls of their stomachs, amongst the acid and waste, as they speak words that they know are theirs.

heaving @ 2007-06-10T09:34:00

2007-06-09T23:34:16Z

amour_de_serpent: fondness makes the heart grow stronger
amour_de_serpent: i mean absence
amour_de_serpent: and fonder
amour_de_serpent: lol
amour_de_serpent: whatever

heaving @ 2007-05-03T17:59:00

2007-05-03T07:59:12Z

bringing in the fallen crows
and those disgusting 40 sun filled days
made me slacken with hate

you don't know what i mean
but thats ok

why am i always being polite?
it's not ok.

i will kill you, i say, weilding a weapon.

in your museum hang my breasts
my cunt, ripped from the base

my own doing. i shed them to distract you
so you wouldn't see me leaving.

i'm ill from
screaming and seeing females

i'm tired of what's between my legs

mostly i'm tired of what's between yours

the way your cock polices;
erect in it's authority

i won't fucking enter
i'll stay outside with the mud and the whores
i'll lay with them in their dirty blood
and their screams of mourning and ecstacy to the dead.

i will pray to satan before i pray to god

and i will end up skinless, boneless, without genitals.

wanted only by myself.

equisite.

heaving @ 2007-04-16T04:38:00

2007-04-08T20:58:02Z

i hung upside down in that bed for years
strung like a tired animal
all my own doing, i will confess

and you, you the strange feotus
all you undid was what i have become
laying there with your flacid cock
waiting for the dawn, a service, your meal

there was a tired string creating music
all throughout the loud yearning and
the full gurgling and fraudulent music

a place of earth is now left
a singular grave with no flowers
no well wishers
no witness to the funeral

i can see you now burying your head
between breasts and mothers milk
longing for a clean place to hang your tired posessions

a pretty place without the wailing of want
without the yearning and the damaged snake

such a simple hood and slack shelter
you, you the strange feotus
always wanting your milk and your meal

heaving @ 2007-04-16T04:25:00

2007-04-08T20:44:29Z

i once loved you, but now i hate you because i have to.

heaving @ 2007-04-13T23:21:00

2007-04-06T15:40:21Z

the wind blows and i'm cold
how does this have any revelence?
i am unable to write whilst i remain this
awful lump.

heaving @ 2007-04-13T23:15:00

2007-04-06T15:34:55Z

will i be the one
who reevaluates how you love?
i am not concerned with spelling
i am not concerned with life

i lie.

heaving @ 2007-04-12T13:11:00

2007-04-05T05:31:13Z

the boy and i are no more. exciting things lay on the horizon.

heaving @ 2007-04-12T13:11:00

2007-04-05T05:30:38Z

no one comes to see me
laying here in the soundless wave

i have become ocean spit
alien rubbish
regurgitated fish guts
and thick red anger

i am inside out and sticky

i have a coat of dust and
fruit scraps
large burnt seeds and
unheard prayers

i collect things as i go.

no one can see me here
laying in your road
i am a weighted lump
unable to move.

heaving @ 2006-11-06T18:58:00

2006-11-06T08:58:50Z

i am better and less hysterical. the tears have stopped and i have come to terms with what is, even if there will always be a part of my heart missing until she finds me again. such a fuss over a mere cat you might think, but she was eons more than just a cat. if only you knew her or could have. she was my silent strength, a symbol for something i am growing more into each day since my past life as a nun. if you can't understand that there is no need to explain. a barren womb and a demoness of the night. i will miss my lady lilith until she returns.

in loving memory;

2006-10-31T05:22:39Z

last night my beautiful familiar and kindred panther spirit was hit by a car. phil without hesitation drove her to the emergency pet hospital where we found out that we could either pay $2000 to try and keep her alive, or euthanise her. the vet informed me that the chances of her surviving even with treatment were slim, so doing the kindest thing i knew how i agreed to have her euthanised.

this grief and awful swelling in my heart is becoming unbearable. to see such a divine and firey spirit, who was so beautiful and dignified, with blood dripping from her nose and unable to lift her head was excrutiating. she lay on the table in her final moments, drifting in and out of consciousness, but as soon as they came in the room with the needle full of death she started to hiss and tried to get up. her leg was badly broken and she struggled so hard. god she tried so hard and my heart is breaking whilst i relive this in writing. i feel as though i have lost a part of my soul. this lady lilith of the night was an extention of my very core.

without hesitation again my knight in shining armour drove me an hour and a half at 1:00 am to see my mother and present her with the lifeless shell of our familiar. the bond that the three of us shared was unmeasurable and my mother is grieving as hard as i am.

in the morning we said a prayer for her spirit to be carried to the next life in the arms of the goddess and told her we will see her again soon. we then dug a hole and placed her mangled body in it and adorned her beautiful black fur with the sweetest smelling rose petals. i draw a circle of river water around her body to symbolise the eternal cycle of birth and death, then my mother and i took turns in covering her with earth. my beautiful black beauty, my wild panther, my high priestess. i will miss you more than anyone could ever concieve.

i have had an endless flow of tears running down my face since last night, and even as i write this i am finding it very hard to read the screen through the rivers coursing down my face. my head hurts and i have not slept since this happened. my beautiful lover comes over now and then to soak up my tears with his shirt.

i feel as though i have cried the worlds ocean. those tears that fall without the aid of blinking. this grief won't leave me fast enough. i want to scream into the earth. i want her back.

heaving @ 2006-10-19T03:05:00

2006-10-18T17:05:16Z

i do love you, you know.

heaving @ 2006-10-04T02:34:00

2006-10-03T16:34:46Z

the first song i learnt to play on the guitar was about a junky. my uncle taught me it.

I caught you knockin'
at my cellar door
I love you, baby,
can I have some more
Ooh, ooh, the damage done.

I hit the city and
I lost my band
I watched the needle
take another man
Gone, gone, the damage done.

I sing the song
because I love the man
I know that some
of you don't understand
Milk-blood
to keep from running out.

I've seen the needle
and the damage done
A little part of it in everyone
But every junkie's
like a settin' sun.

if i have enough requests, i'll record it and sing it for y'all.

heaving @ 2006-10-04T00:54:00

2006-10-03T14:54:00Z

germaine greer is a fucking tosser.

heaving @ 2006-09-30T16:43:00

2006-09-30T06:43:17Z

sometimes i wish i were a man, only so i were able to feel what it were like to fuck a woman like they can.

heaving @ 2006-09-20T00:57:00

2006-09-19T14:57:56Z

my heart is fluttering and it's raining.

i'm am giddy at the thought of junk lately. all the creative possibilities of rubbish. i found this mad bed frame that someone had set alight. i had a flash of fighting and sadness when i saw it. i gathered bag fulls of rusty springs with the intent to make something. i have no idea what yet.

my father is a pack rat of rubbish. he gets excited by old shoes and bits of ravaged ocean wood. his house is full of peoples junk and perhaps quite a few things people have lost. he says he loves to imagine the human ascociation behind them. i think he's lonely. sometimes when i look at him i imagine him on an island, a house built out of drift wood, people made from coconut and palm fronds.fish bones scattered around a fire place.

the excitement of stories and decay. this influence of saturn and the goat. so much beauty. life is opening up again and i am very ok with that.

all these ibis skeletons i am collecting lately. sacred bird of the moon god Toth. the unearther.