Ease

You are gone now.

In darkness

winter disappeared

into comfort

into peace

not thinking 

being inside

Deep.

Apart 

from the one

who made you feel.

For a time

you were broad

and carried 

the weight of the world

upon your shoulders

with ease.

Ease is slippery

like time

If it passes comfortably

it's anaesthesia,

sometimes welcome.

And have you really lived?

by Jennifer Phillips

© Jennifer Phillips

A darkening tree

Two children dreamt

of long ago

and stood before a darkening tree

not know when who became

or where she dwelt.

nightfall fell - 

and long ago was now

and trees were stone

you and I were there

we cried - remember when?

for then was now 

and we were dead

the woods were dark.

The children stood

hand in hand

and fear was there

for not knowing, who became

or where she went - 

but seeing eyelids close

and nightfall come

seeing through the ages then

eyelids close one by one.

and standing there

for you and I to see

before we parted.

murderous tree

outstretched its limbs

the tree asking, in the dark

for caresses

that were more of mine

than yours - and time

was there, Elizabeth too

standing. dreaming,

of summer days to come

and years to pass.

by Joy Hester

© Jennifer Phillips

Rhododendrons before the storm

Rhododendrons before the storm © Jennifer Phillips

Poem

On the fine nights of summer, I will go on the paths

Pricked by the wheat, to tread on the slender grass;

Dreamer, I will feel the freshness on my feet,

And let the wind bathe my bare head.

I will not speak, I will not think,

but love will fill my heart,

And I will go far, far away, nonconformist

By nature - happy as with a woman.

by Arthur Rimbaud (translated by Sunday Reed)

Dreamer

Away I went fists in my torn pockets.

My coat too became perfection.

Under the stars Muse your faithful friend,

Oh what love I dreamed.

My only trousers had a big hole.

Tom Thumb dreamer, shedding rhymes on my way.

My inn was the Big Bear.

My stars in heaven softly rustled their silk.

And I listened sitting on the side of the road

Those good September nights where I felt 

Dewdrops on my face like strong wine:

Where rhyming in the middle of those faery shadows

like lyres, I held the rubber of my worn out shoes,

A foot against my heart.

by Arthur Rimbaud (translated by Sunday Reed)

Dream for Winter

In winter we go in a little pink carriage

With blue cushions

We will be happy. A nest of kisses rests

In each soft corner.

You will close your eyes so as not to see

The evening shadows making faces through the window,

Those snarling monstrosities,

Mob of black demons and black wolves.

Then you will feel a scratching on your cheek.

A little kiss, like a mad spider,

Will run on your neck.

And you will say to me, 'Look!'

Leaning your head,

And we will take a long time to find that little beast

- who travels so much.

by Arthur Rimbaud (translated by Sunday Reed)

Boo, forever

Spinning like a ghost
on the bottom of a top,
I'm haunted by all
the space that I
will live without
you.

by Richard Brautigan

Flowers against the sky

Flowers pasted on the sky (Crepe Myrtle) © Jennifer Phillips

Love's intention

"Love's intention and the reverse of love's intention slowly mark my life ... and on the banks of these dark rivers we become - become what we are to each other and become what we are to ourselves."

by Sunday Reed

Australian National Rhododendron Gardens

© Jennifer Phillips

Micetto, Father of kisses

he smiled some flowers

and laid a wish

across the spring

turning the seasons,

without a rosebud blowing

a moonlit butterfly

set passion

as a jewel

within her eyes - and 

love made deep her speaking

quiet as a fog

birth music

its endless word

six times enfolded

smile with tear, and kisses

by Joy Hester

© Nishanth Gopinathan & FineArtAmerica.com

Where my books go

All the words that I utter,  

And all the words that I write,  

Must spread out their wings untiring,  

And never rest in their flight,  

Till they come where your sad, sad heart is,

And sing to you in the night,  

Beyond where the waters are moving,  

Storm-darken'd or starry bright.

by William Butler Yeats

© Jennifer Phillips

Touch my eyes

I find myself accelerating around corners

on the reckless edge of wanting

to feel

My mind has gone to seed - 

all cotton and dandelion fluff

Hand me the candle snuffer

Bleed my eyes

of all the lucid dreams

Twisting the arc

of time's arrow

into a dripping rainbow

Touch my eyes now - 

cover the burning land

or I will go where the rivers go

under the desert sand

Hold my hand.

Pieced together into one poem by Jennifer Phillips 

from fragments by "Neon Veil" & Barrett Reid

Dandelion fluff © Jennifer Phillips

How long will my life be?

© Michael Leunig - Saturday Age 15 November 2014

G20 Rap with Tony Abbott - feat. Scott Ludlam

Welcome to Rap News. The G20 Summit is happening and the leaders of the wealthiest nations on the planet are converging on Australia to come and learn directly at the feet of the master of fascist dystopian fuckwittery: Tony Abbott. Join the noble Australian Prime Minister as he lists his recent achievements and launches the opening of the G20 Summit in Australia, backed by a faithful and compliant mainstream media, represented by our favourite local correspondent Ken Oathcarn. This episode features a magical cameo from Wizard Senator Scott Ludlam, who has been campaigning tirelessly in speeches to empty Senate rooms to stop the Government’s proposed mandatory data retention laws - coming up soon for a vote in the Senate. After this G20 episode, no one will be in any doubt why Australia is leading the civilised world in the global race to towards 1984.

© Giordano Nanni & Hugo Farrant 

in a suburban backyard home studio 

in Melbourne, Australia, on Wurundjeri Land.

Neglecting other blog

Sorry everyone, I have been neglecting my other blog "CURED of PARASITES: Blastocystis Hominis & Dientamoeba Fragilis", so just focussing on that for a bit...back soon.

Cavies

Cavies - Honey & Bethany © Jennifer Phillips

Irises among the lemons

Irises among the lemons © Jennifer Phillips

Pink rose

"The Endeavour" pink rose © Jennifer Phillips

The wild iris

Blue iris at night © Jennifer Phillips

At the end of my suffering

there was a door.

Hear me out: that which you call death

I remember.

Overhead, noises, branches of the pine shifting.

Then nothing. The weak sun

flickered over the dry surface.

It is terrible to survive

as consciousness

buried in the dark earth.

Then it was over: that which you fear, being

a soul and unable

to speak, ending abruptly, the stiff earth

bending a little. And what I took to be

birds darting in low shrubs.

You who do not remember

passage from the other world

I tell you I could speak again: whatever

returns from oblivion returns

to find a voice:

from the center of my life came

a great fountain, deep blue

shadows on azure seawater. 

by Louise Glück

Wide lovely eyes

You wave at the sky with wide lovely eyes

Waves and waves of love goodbye

Through the garden with your secret key

Down the tunnel that leads to the sea

Step on the beach beneath the iron skies

You wave and wave with wide lovely eyes

Crystal waves and waves of love

You wave and say goodbye

Your dress sighs with your wide lovely strides

All along the street and lately the stories abound

They've dismantled the funfair

And they've shut down the rides

They've hung the mermaids from the streetlights

By their hair

And with wide lovely eyes you wave at the sky

And near the high window watching you ride

The waves of blue and the waves of love

You wave and say goodbye

The night expands, I am expanding

I watch your hands like butterflies landing

All among the myths and the legends we create

And all the laughing stories we tell our friends

Close the windows, clear up the mess

It's getting late

It's darker and closer to the end

Through the tunnel and down the sea

And on the pebble beach your laces you untie

And arrange your shoes side by side

You wave and wave with wide lovely eyes

Distant waves and waves of distant love

You wave and say goodbye

by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

A stolen kiss

I stole a kiss

Upon thy cheek, 

And now another 

Kiss I seek.

Not on the cheek though, 

This time on the lips.

Your hands on my body, 

My hands on your hips.

No space in between us, 

Your eyes staring at mine, 

Then share our first kiss

With our hands intertwined.

When that day comes, 

If this wish comes true, 

Our kiss will finish with

“I love you” 

by Dean McInerney

If it be your will

If it be your will 

That I speak no more 

And my voice be still 

As it was before 

I will speak no more 

I shall abide until 

I am spoken for 

If it be your will 

If it be your will 

That a voice be true 

From this broken hill 

I will sing to you 

From this broken hill 

All your praises they shall ring 

If it be your will 

To let me sing 

From this broken hill 

All your praises they shall ring 

If it be your will 

To let me sing 

If it be your will 

If there is a choice 

Let the rivers fill 

Let the hills rejoice 

Let your mercy spill 

On all these burning hearts in hell 

If it be your will 

To make us well 

And draw us near 

And bind us tight 

All your children here 

In their rags of light 

In our rags of light 

All dressed to kill 

And end this night 

If it be your will 

If it be your will.

by Leonard Cohen

Evenfall moon

Is the moon tired? she looks so pale

Within her misty veil:

She scales the sky from east to west,

And takes no rest.

Before the coming of the night

The moon shows papery white;

Before the dawning of the day

She fades away.

by Christina Rossetti

Evenfall moon © Jennifer Phillips

After precipitation

It has rained in the night.

Every leaf in this city today is two degrees greener;

Every passion, two degrees cooler ...

Except the thirsty heat that has made its home in me,

Which is not slaked by shower

Nor doused by downpour.

Impermeably sheltered from every storm but you,

It resists all lightning but your lips,

All thunder but your heart,

All flooding waters but your sudden turns of tide.

To these it uncovers itself,

Flaming, magnesium-like, at their approach,

Hotter, thirstier than ever.

by David Singleton

Water droplets © Jennifer Phillips