inadvertent poetics

10:35pm 7 june

all we ever are is all we’ve ever been

I can’t stop thinking about crashing waves

everything’s coming down but in a good way

we build things up just to let them fall

with each breath you die and are reborn

each second is a crashing wave washing away the old and making space for the new

with each breath everything falls down and is rebuilt

I am continually made and remade

I am continually made and remade

 

 

 

10:34 am 8 sept.

the morning never seems

to last long enough

everything gets foggy

once the hand moves past 2

but in the morning the

answers to everything

seem just within reach

a pity there’s such a

narrow window to truth

 

 

 

undated 2

like the water trailing after a ship that soon fades into calm, the past exists and then it doesn’t

the present is all we have

don’t let your experience of this moment be overshadowed by non-existent times

ride with the waves when they come and let them go when they collapse

 

 

 

undated 4

can’t write poetry

but I can try to find

some objective truths

in the glint of morning sun

or the steam coming off your

cup of tea

can’t write poetry

but I can write about

what it feels like

to be

 

 

 

things I have trouble finishing

– Cups of tea

– Books

– Trains of thought

 

 

 

21:46, 23:09:17

relics of an old me

trapped in

phrases

places

old perfumes

and old lip balms

movements

and stillness

here a whisper

there it lingers

the shadow of

an old me

forever trailing after

the me of the now

 

 

 

it’s just a day dream

spent a lot of time day dreaming about an apartment in the city. maybe sydney. maybe paris. with hardwood floors and 10 foot ceilings, windows on every wall. exposed brick or maybe off white walls. exposed beams to hang ivy from the ceiling. plants in every corner, candles always burning and a tea pot always boiling.

I’m happy there, but maybe it’s just because it’s not here

maybe it’s because I think sadness grows roots and tethers you to the floor, and if I can leave this place then I can leave the sadness too

it’s just a day dream.

 

 

 

in/complete existence

maybe the search for meaning is the meaning

maybe we’re programmed to run in circles and collect pieces and experiences

and try to tape them together into a being that feels whole

maybe these things will never make us whole

maybe nothing will

maybe being forever incomplete is the meaning of all of this

forever shifting and undefinable

if there was some pre-determined wholeness that we could arrive at then what happens when we get there

would we stop growing, stop expanding, because the fire that motivated us to continually seek meaning in identity is extinguished?

maybe this incessant yearning for wholeness isn’t a question that there exists a finite answer to

maybe it’s a northern star

leading us to where we need to go when we feel lost and empty

 

 

 

lunar soul

I come and go in phases

sometimes complete

and sometimes empty

most of the time

stuck in some limbo

between the two

the moon comes and goes

in phases

continually reborn and

built up and stripped down

and reborn again

never standing still

and constantly shifting;

a lunar soul in a lost girl

 

 

 

7 oct 17 3:38 pm

stop to feel

breathe and heal

inhale exhale

release all stress out

feet grow roots

thoughts are not truths

watch and observe

let them be heard

mind grows still

once you let yourself heal

 

 

 

undated 8

things look most beautiful after a storm

the second after everything collapses

because there’s nothing more you can do

than breathe in and say ‘okay’

this is what has been

now I can focus on what is to come

the thunder has come and gone but I am still here and I always will be

 

 

 

monday 23 oct 17 22:25

reaching for a cup of tea and remembering that you always find home in the calm after the storm

home always exists in stillness

 

 

 

“only transitory”

as if there’s anything more than temporality

as if all thing’s don’t end

as if there’s an infinity

 

 

 

undated 15

searching for the meaning of life is like

trying to see seeing

or trying to hear hearing

you are life

how can life search for life?

it is already within itself and does not need to be sought

 

 

 

contra dictum

mornings are my favourite time

but I always feel real at dusk

always feel renewed at sunset

always feel whole in the moonlight

 

 

 

undated 22

the best moments are when you

forget self

  • looking at the sunrise
  • standing in the ocean

just being experience

instead of being a self

having an experience

 

 

 

– I think Hume was right, 7 Nov 17, 10:41 am

All this time I thought I had to strive to inhabit my whole self

That when I wasn’t ‘feeling like me’ it was because there was a definitive entity that I was supposed to be yet somehow not quite there at that point in time

But I’ve realised that the times when I feel ‘most like me’ I’m not aware of ‘me’ at all. I’m not trying to embrace a particular conception of ‘me-ness’.

When I feel full I let go of any predetermined idea of personhood.

I let go of self

I’m nothing but experience.

 

 

 

undated 23

sleep in slow motion

falling onto lightness

everything’s still.

 

 

 

untitled

a lot for a while and then not at all

it comes and goes in waves

just praying one day

the motion subsides

and i can rest in

stillness

 

 

 

undated 25

It’s not about feeling whole

It’s about letting go of any idea

That you’re incomplete in this

Moment

You don’t need to strive

To feel whole

You just need to embrace

Self and moment

That’s all there is

So that’s all you need

 

 

 

undated 33

still seeking validation from the ghosts of my past

revisiting old stories and forgetting the painful parts

living life in a daze as time blurs in a mist

convincing myself that parts of me are locked in memories I’ve somehow missed

 

 

 

just trying to make life feel like a frank ocean song

spending most of my days trying to write poetry

feel like life only makes sense in stanzas

always inside my head and I can’t fucking stand it

wish I had the courage to change my life but instead I’m stuck in this place

looking in the mirror and not recognising my own face

don’t realise how sad I am until I pick up the pen, reassuring myself it’ll be better in the end      

 

 

 

3(?) 4 dec 17

Always chasing mindsets

But it means I miss the good parts

Don’t know how to accept how I’m feeling in my heart

Don’t know how to reject the resolve that things are sposed to be a certain way

Always chasing mindsets

Chasing routines

Chasing night

Chasing day

 

 

 

11 dec.

jumping off rocks

into the ocean

cups of tea at 3pm

spoon swirling water motion

nostalgic months

windows wide open

head in the clouds

head always in the clouds

turn frank up on the radio

driving routes you don’t know

hoping to find someone on these unfamiliar roads

hoping to find myself on these unfamiliar roads

always take roundabouts too fast but it’s the only way I know

4pm cold cup of tea

fingers wrapped around familiar streets

 

 

 

undated 37

ringing in my ears

haven’t heard silence for months

it’s always silent when you stop putting up a front

short hair pushed behind ears

leaving behind these nostalgic years

running down rivers that lead to nowhere

convincing ourselves we hold no cares

who am I when the lights turn on

makin promises

“I won’t be long”

always there to return to

guess nothings ever really brand new

guess nothin’s ever good enough for you

 

 

 

17 dec

who am I when the lights turn on

gaze following

instagram hollowing

spotlight half life

empty cans inside

pull back the curtain

strip away the paint

bronze model on a pedestal

idealising these people we don’t know

light flicker switch flipper

always a different person when the lights off

 

 

 

22 dec 12:43am

We’re becoming people we don’t know

Just embracing the ebb and the flow

Embracing the questions we don’t know

And the answers that won’t show

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