"Dwell in my heart rusted soldier of my own decay. Let not the bubbling of my bored abandon thrive on your morsel stew." I put two sentences into a direct frame, poetic frame, and a mindfulness frame. It was quite interesting to attempt the different voices. DIRECT I'm bored. Sun's out. Don't feel like doing … Continue reading Direct Poetic Mindfulness
poetry
Lamp of Your Creation
You were hiding, looking, scoping. Dipping your toe into the water with uncertainty. Looking for answers without understanding the question. You listened to the piper as he shared pipe dreams. Come poet, come writer, artist and songster. Embrace the lamp of your own creation. (You started out unsure how to go about doing things. You … Continue reading Lamp of Your Creation
Dezzies Archive
Today I celebrate the adding of an archive page to Dezzies Place. It's about time! From humble beginnings back in 2020 I initially focused on phrases and sayings Sydneysiders use as part of their daily conversation. Of course the content has broadened over the years. From art to poetry. From narrative to reviews. Thank you … Continue reading Dezzies Archive
Tangled
It’s late at night. The weather screaming. Screaming loud in whistled yearning. Demanding to be heard. Tall twisted trees screech as the wind paves a footprint through it’s tangled persona. I see you. I see you lost in this terrain. Your tousled hair run ragged. Holding back the danger as your determined voice shouts out in … Continue reading Tangled
Yellow Raincoats
Tinted rain sends sonic sounds and whispers through the bird drenched lullaby of the bush. The wet drips. Drips in muted glory. Reflecting light, dispelling light. Each tinted drop tumbles to the ground in playful gesture. Softly landing. Yellow raincoats appear with glistening skin and plastered hair. Ruddy cheeks. Cheeky cherubs in the rain exploring. … Continue reading Yellow Raincoats
Tumbling down
With grinding teeth and sobbing tears my recent hopes, my greatest fears, came tumbling down into a mess. I hate these times I must confess. Cause when your world comes tumbling down there's no-one there to ease that frown, and so you dwell upon each thing you cannot change...it sure does sting. You can't change what has … Continue reading Tumbling down
Writing as Sanctuary
Sanctuary startled me. The rapid movement of aqua blue on crystal white. The movement of the city far removed. Talking echoes as a dog barks and the sound of cicadas stamp their step. You peer through the glare of noise like a Christmas tree where presents grace the floor. I don't understand the words that … Continue reading Writing as Sanctuary
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