Ankling on #2 News Years Morning-Welcome 2022♡

Ankling on #2 News Years Morning-Welcome 2022♡

It has been two or so weeks since I returned from hospital.

My broken ankle and surgery to which I graciously adopted a plate and several screws into my ankle has not set in as much.

The feeling of a material that was part of the great industrial revolution in Australia, feel ever so foreign to me (excuse the pun?)

On a dry Summer day, not that long ago I had to get my temporary cast replaced with the more secure, strong four week cast set.

Amongst the hustle and bustle of the orthopaedic ward, a nurse buzzed passed and handed me a a keyring of cast colour samples.

This was new to me.

For a brief moment I thought I was picking curtains at a drapery.

With a some what vast selections of colours, I decided on the reassuring, somewhat comforting colour pink.

With my cast colour decided, the surgeon and nurses removed my temporary cast and unveiled my bare broken ankle.

I could barely glance upon the damage.

Two incisions seared into either side of my ankle. Sharp, precist lines roughly run 10cms up my ankle.

A bruise lakes around the heel of my foot. I gather myself from wooziness as I advert my eyes as they wrap and realign my ankle.

I hobble on New Years Eve.

The heat sweltering and swelling my leg. Medical attire that is most certainly not designed for the cruel Australian Heat.

When the weather is just perfect for a skate. I long to glide.

To feel the eucalyptus scented breeze dance through my hair.

As the days of healing go on, one step at a time….

I countdown the days,

ever so gently to which I can safely place both feet back upon the ground.

But, aye.

I think we all have that inner yearning.

Happy New Year all.

May 2022 guide you with love and light.

astral plead

astral plead

If the clouds could whisper, upon thy cheek.

Etched memories of time reflect a rose tinted glare.

Shallow thought do quiver,

when storms brew with fear.

Chaos juggles north.

The mind glides east.

Voices heard, are twisted vines.

Restraining.

Restricting.

The third eye weeps.

These astral planes-

plead to be seen.

#4 Stream of Conciousness

#4 Stream of Conciousness

Dry hair. Humid air. Stillness canvases the night. Fan hums a serenade. Comforting, cooling, conquering the heat. Sleepy slumber, falling softly of to sleep. Dreams do come, this movie in the mind. Half asleep. Drifting softly. To yonder, I do wonder. Nightie night….

Twas the Moon-Archive #1

Twas the Moon-Archive #1

Twas the moon-
Of fullness-
That shone-
Welcoming awe-
To my heart.

Beauty did the moon bring-
A comforting trance-
Mother Natures eye shine upon the sky-
Watching her children live, love and loss.

Twas the moon-
That shifted darkness-
Into a lantern upon the velvet sky.

Sadness did the moon bring-
When weeping eyes-
looked upon the lonely sky-
A reminder of the ones no longer.

Twas the moon-
Encouraging love-
With open arms throughout the night.

Love did the moon bring-
Lonely souls becoming one-
Together-
Such euphoric harmony.

Twas the moon-
Of such fullness-
Shifting through the times-
Where emotions shine bright-
A mirror of above-
Upon the velvet sky.

One. Stream of Consciousness.

One. Stream of Consciousness.

Electric Blanket, dona heavy, Traffic passing, sleepy street.

Slightly bloated, shoulder hurting.

Winter. Night. Cold.

Work in Morning.

Shallow breathing. Asthma sucks.

World still turning.

Life on pause.

Train, echoing throughout.

Brisk air?

What dreams shall come tonight.

Remember.

Spray Melatonin.

Beside cluttered.

Nightly chaos.

Try to be tidy.

I am happy.

Also sad.

Always in back of head-

Missing  my parents. RIP.

Shit this got sad.

Cotton Candy-

Melts in the mouth.

Carnnie games-

What a rip.

Feel like reading-

To which I will do.

Thankful. Night-

Is the moon bright?