Wednesday, 4. November 2009, 06:53:19
empty, pets, rabbit, heartache
...
Dedicated to Sumiko Moriyama lee
who was greatly loved but in one
lapse of carelessness is passed away...
emptiness comes so quickly
uninvited, it causes a rift
in the heart
a long desert empty
destitute, and devoid
of all things giving
heartache comes so quickly
uninvited, just idling away
precious hours
tears they come so quickly
they pour into the void saltiness
stinging the eyes of grief
vacant memories is all you
can be now,a collection of
memories we sadly miss
blank stresses the absence of something
something precious that
took up that space
no more the arm to embrace
no more the warmth of beating
heart and gentle gesture
rendered now beyond our midst
beyond where we cannot travel
cold cold space
how I long to fill the vacuum
once again of one so gentle
natured
guilt it comes so quickly
aching and gutting every nerve
deadening all the joyous senses
that no longer have a place
to abide and regret it fights
for a corner of tenancy
grief it comes so quickly
and nestles as a trio that
overwhelms the lamenting heart
If I could a thousand times
change that which has passed
then you would be here and not missed
If I could a thousand times
take your place then I could
easily live with that
but now have to live with
the empty arms, and empty heart
that you once filled
Maree Long
(c) Maree Long 2009
Sumiko Moriyama Lee - Passed away November 2009
from heat stroke - only one year old -
a unique sweetness who deserved better,
who brought joy into our otherwise mundane
lives, greatly loved by "Baby Boy" who may miss you
more than all the rest and hasnt quite figured
out what has changed or why your not here
anymore....
Wednesday, 28. October 2009, 08:53:02
gilded cages of abestos
cheaper than half the price
cheaper still the life within
sold for but a simple lie
a castle for the pauper
we came to the Valley in droves
and raised our families
to be continued
Saturday, 3. October 2009, 03:43:33
A Saturday Morning
drenched and cold and drab the mother be
as the gerni works it's way along the intrepid roofing sea
the boy man and father working side by side
the day is overcast as a shadow forboding over the men's ride
no longer the sweet sweet ride to Warawong winding
instead dressed in his surf wet suit binding
dreams their way down the steep descent and enjoy the lazy long weekend
of what such a day could have been to them
her fingers cold from damp wet cloths that spent all morning
dusting away the last remains of the red red dusty storm
her nostrils filled with uncomfortable dirt and dust
from the frenzy of cleaning and mopping up
load after load of washing done and hung on tiny lines inside
and ushered away the "insulation guys" for their word they did not abide
satisfied the outdoor patio all the pieces now in their place
clean and dry and even sparkling if you look not so closely with grace
the plants and ornaments all stare back amused by their new setting
but feeling
goodness this piece needs a lot of work - too much going on in my head at the moment.....
Sunday, 27. September 2009, 08:56:35
RED MORNING
a glimmer of red blaze reflects upon the bedroom mirror
the seeping of a red morning that creeps through a wild imagination
Is this the end of the world? Is this the judgement day?
is this mankinds doing that will leave all in ruination?
is this the plague of Pharoah? Are too our hearts so stubborn?
thousands of miles away the red desert dust
sweeps across the great dividing range blanketing
over all our life leaving nothing untouched
and fear of imagination thought the earth was burning red
clogged skies as Australia woke up to the apocalypse today
Is this just scare mongering or the cosmos fighting back
or is it really judgment day and soon many will be dead as some seem to say
mud rains on the outback as red dust hits the city walls
the sun struggles to pierce the red cloaking
the Big Alice hit like a hurricane as floods rose up from the ground
and people going about their business coughing, spluttering and choking
and a mother in the suburb rescues her baby's from the dust storm
and her mind pondering the clean up when the skies are all done
the dusting and the washing of windows and cars
when the evil dust storms settle with the evening sun
linen and cushions and plants now painted red
she too now choking and drowning as the "gerni" attacks the doors
all need tending to so life can be as normal once again
and sends her slipping and flying across the mudded once white tiled floors
the cat goes wild about the house and yard
as frenzid cleaning takes place
the mopping up and rearranging
as the dust now settles upon her weired tired face
and the mother in the suburb has weathered out the storm
reminiscing of Alice reflecting from whence the red had come
it had travelled afar just to waken her up
and just to have its fun....
Maree Long
(c)Maree Long
In my youth I had travelled to the inner sanctum of the Big Red known as Alice Springs
I recall how were instructed to double bag everything in our suitcase and bag the outside case as well.
We were warned of the fine red red dust....as red as any sunset I had ever seen as red as crayon as
child would draw a scene. I remember climbing THE ROCK, Ayers Rock now known as Uluru and travelling to
the Olgas I recall white ghost gum trees reminiscent of Picnic at Hanging Rock where the imagination
transported a 16 year old school girl and forever changed her life. An adventure that "earthed" her
a travel that transported her and forever tied her to home....something that awakened every one of the sensis of sight taste and touch - you could taste the red dust, you could taste the cool springs
you could feel at one with THE ROCK....
Wednesday, 23. September 2009, 22:02:18
Secretly......
singularly, secretly a moment of self is revealed
entrusted to the heart of another
negotiations of tender feelings
close-mouthed and reticent and yet escape the words
not before dared uttered, secluded and sheltered
emotions now find another hiding place
that finds their resting in the midst and mind of another
those thoughts that had long been kept from the knowledge
of, but the initiated within the privileged circle of friendship
that had always been entrusted to the imagination of the mind
locked away in the recesses as though key locked in a tiny secret drawer
where all cautious faithfully stored memories, longed for desires
now shared and entrusted with a new aliance that in hope might
bring to fruition the understanding of a lonely soul
that had wandered the catacoombs of the single heart
desperation or great affection? I wonder which caused the
the tiny secret drawer to be unlocked and shared from which
much dust has thickly covered the drawer for many years....
Maree Long
(c) Maree Long 2009
Wednesday, 23. September 2009, 06:12:38
In Bloom
In bloom the delicate flower shows her face
at the height of springs tender morn
young the plant that shoots from tender earthy soil
that follows the sun all her days
looking for the one to nuture her
to be with her as she grows from season to season
such is the language of love that flowers speak of
so what message is sent by the Iris blue hue
what speaks of friendship but the yellow rose
and such the loyalty of the ivy vine that entwines
love and lovers, in the secret of the garden of the heart
antiquity dates the symbolic high souled aspirations
of the scarlet lily, so is morning glory's love in vain?
Can the Amaranth promise immortal love?
for are we not all consumed by the Mallow of loves call?
do we all not seek the suns face?
and the white Poppy bows with all humility beneath
a gentle breeze silent with reverence
the wistfullness declaring all virtue and purity
many are the faces of a young maiden
that longs for the strength and protection
that love so often speaks of hasitly
willing to be taken from the earthy ground
and for a moment find themselves captivated
by sweet promises, by empty words that nuture not
realising that their moment of splendour may now
whither and die never to return to spring again
never to prosper in the gardens heart...
Maree Long
(c) Maree Long 2009
Sunday, 20. September 2009, 09:11:15
CASCADING MEMORIES
distant memories down the waterfall cascade
in succession one by one they spill
many dashing upon the rocks below
and fragmenting into a million pieces
diffusing themselves amidst the waters flow
making their way to the steep descent along
the waters of the rivers heart as
wishful visions continue to pour out
from a past long ago the waterfall dreams
must be let go to allow the tranquill and serene
this fount of blessing of both pain and joy
splashes and falls to the earth below
river that it is, that gives life that continually changes
memories that are that neither choose to give pain nor joy
such are cascading memories that wash about the shores
of the mind filling the body with emotions of not our choosing
but is that really true? whilst memories are what they are
whilst some flood and fill our mind and senses, whilst others
flow along and trickle into our sentinent being
that was once at rest and peace with the present
it is this present that allows us to stay afloat of what
is recalled to the mind and we have become stronger swimmers
when tides of thoughts pour through our eyes of pain or joy
we and we alone all the memories to cascade
Maree Long
(c) Maree Long
Sunday, 13. September 2009, 22:41:05
LAST, LOST, LEAST
Colors drained on my window pain
tiny tears from the sky they fell
memories from a distant past
forgotten wishes of childhood dreams
last
lost
least
waterless almost silent words
in each droplet they form
but no one there to wipe my tears
no one there to hear my words
last
lost
least
cannot this heart be awakened
cannot the voice rise above the din
words choked almong the waterless tears
dreams lost so long ago
last
lost
least
so who is last? who is lost? who is least?
do you not know dreams,waterless tears
and even silent words
all pour into the river of life
all tears matter.
Maree Long
(c) Maree Long 2009
Tuesday, 1. September 2009, 07:19:28
nature, cry, Time, Autumn
...
Dance of Autumn Leaves
Carefully crafted the third season
of deciduous trees and leaves
gently swaying and basking in
sunlight amidst a back drop blue sky
the autumnal equinox staves off the winter solstice
taking joy in all the colorful hues
of browns and golds, deep reds and ambers
as it waves goodbye to Summers bliss
and now awaits the first leaf - must fall
and to the world - Autumn, Autumn, Autumn it must call
feel the breeze whip around the bark
Autumn winds crisp and stark
and so the leaves dance and play
to the winds song that has travelled afar
beyond the north as we know it
to revel in this beautious season
though at first glance one sees the season
as one dying as it lays and dry upon the ground
and we see not, we feel not the life that might be emerging
only seeing the browns and golds, deep reds and ambers
and now awaits the first leaf - must fall
and to the world - Autumn, Autumn, Autumn it must call
feel the breeze whip around the bark
Autumn winds crisp and stark
strange it seems, this change of season
that bursts into colors beyond our senses
silhouettes and shades that cast it's shadows
sprinkled beween stark limbs soon to be naked
unremembered sleep of Autumn wrestling with
the nearing of winters cry - yet but a snap
of time that passes this way all to quickly
artfully and splendidly crafted color
and now awaits the first leaf - must fall
and to the world - Autumn, Autumn, Autumn it must call
feel the breeze whip around the bark
Autumn winds crisp and stark
and so this dance of Autumn soon must end all but too quickly
as autumn's quilt lies silent on the ground beneath
the great trees, the teller of time
and bid the north winds song of frolic goodbye.....
Maree Long
(c) Maree Long 2009
Wednesday, 26. August 2009, 01:31:00
nature, love, sandstone
LOVE BEYOND THE SANDSTONE WALL
Sandstone won't forever
withstand the ravages of time
as wind and rain beat upon it's walls
and lovers come and go
as beating hearts are pressed against
it's grainy earth, it whispers and
hopes their hearts are as firestone
withstanding the intensity that heat
can often destroy without a thought
and then the sandstone whispers more
may their hearts be as the holystone
that scrubs away all imperfections
for the Tajmahal has long-ed stood as poetry in stone
and yet no love is found upon the cool surface
nor deep within it's grains...
....a million times over
.......this love in this time
...........is but a tiny grain.....
...............collect the grains of sandstone
..................and build the sandstone wall
build your love why you may
and cement it well with family and friends
build it strong with prayer, hopes and dreams
Let there be engraved into these lives
of extremely delicate detail,
forming twining vines, fruits that flower
build your lives upon a solid rock
decorate with intricate inlay of
Psalms and wisdom and spend time building
the inner walls that long to stand
...........................the ravages of time
Maree Long
(c) Maree Long 2009
Dedicated to her Marie and Tony
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