Download and burn the entire Oz Poetry site (update regularly) -
including all attachments and pics to Disc or Stick.
The burn will result in a browsable ready
resource you can access on or offline
anywhere anytime you wish!
A hollow abyss of nothingness,
a hell without a Satan.
Empty, numb and non-existent;
is this what I have become?
A shell, a body, an object,
my spirit has vacated;
My soul in Quarantine.
Loneliness is consuming/eating the vitality I
once possessed in abundance.
How long is one able to survive without Love, or Passion?
Mice and monkeys only live for 7 days when abandoned;
humans ‘live’ a little longer!
Is it just me, or have others felt this way?
Words have their limit; no words could describe this utter desolation.
Each day I feel myself drifting closer to oblivion;
spinning in black space, farther and farther away.
I have cried oceans, now I am unable to shed a tear,
my limbic system is dead.
This woman, this girl, stupefied, drugged on isolation,
yearning for connection.
I don’t know you anymore, yet I know you are there, somewhere.
There is a rare Rose,
a flower that only blossoms in the cool moon light.
Its scent is said to intoxicate and drive people mad
though this madness is born of ecstasy.
One must approach this delicate flower
with caution and care lest its petals are bruised
and it loses its fragile scent and exotic allure,
so delicate it is said to be.
In the Bay of Roses
I have searched for this flower
on many moonlit nights
but to no avail, though on one occasion a scent,
a fragrance that quickened the spirit and gladdened the heart
tantalised, but escaped on the breeze.
It was enough to obsess;
I became enthralled with the prospect
of discovery and reward,
this prize would not continue to evade
my frantic efforts and searchings for long,
I became fixated and nothing could distract me
from my purpose.
If discovered during a full moon and approached
quietly and carefully, it would yield itself to the hand of the discoverer
and blossom in the palm, triggered by body heat.
The vapour and scent released from deep inside its
moist petals would elevate the senses
and send the body into ecstatic fits,
a frenzy of sensual delight
from which few would return
unchanged, in some way!
Indeed, it is said the flower imparts secret knowledge
to the discoverer, which would serve him in times of tribulation
or despair.
Such is the irresistible allure this delicate and rare flower
now held for me.
It was on one cool moonlit night that I stumbled
on a small bush almost indiscernible from the foliage around it.
Upon closer inspection, I could see,
deep inside its leafy exterior, a single
bud or rather a flower tightly/perfectly folded in on itself.
As I slowly and carefully extended my hand under the bud,
being careful not to block the soft moonlight, the flower yielded
and dropped into my palm then slowly unfurled layers of petals
until its moist glistening interior became visible
and a most exquisite and intoxicating scent was released.
I remember that night well, the night I found my little treasure/flower.
It was true what they said and more.
That flower has been with me ever since
and has imparted more than knowledge
and bliss when required.
I could not live without it now
It has seen me through the most
agonising and difficult situations.
It was well worth the dedicated quest
of discovery.
A living prize beyond comparison,
one I can no longer do without.
Whenever worthless glass beads
and Manhattan baubles
encounter diamond Truths
a synapse occurs,
a revelation that snaps us back to reality.
We, the alienated mass,
are forced to confront
our isolation and possibly
re-emerge as caring/sharing
human beings, again!
We/you/I, possess everything we need;
we were made perfect to our kind
by a perfect infinite creation.
We lack nothing by design
but everything by cultural imposition.
Which is it to be, perfect and caring by design
or a Loveless and lifeless
perverse, social imposition?
Nothing endures without Love to support and sustain it;
we are all too well aware.
Y/our choice is to allow the unconditional,
limitless, resource of Love, which we all possess,
to flow unimpeded from your heart.
Only then is Love able to return and heal
desolation and anguish.
We must Love before we are able to be Loved
Love unconditionally
with every fibre of your being
and then Love some more.
printable version
PDF version
