I’m in the process of recording some live readings of my poems.
It’s blowing my mind how different the poem feels and is in spoken word. I can’t help but offer subtle changes to it, even whole new paragraphs as it comes out. Like it’s a completely new medium.
On one hand I can’t wait and on the other I’m also quite terrified to share these with the masses. It brings up all sorts of stuff about who’s allowed to be a real poet which is funny because I’m only recently comfortable being a real artist. But this slips a lot easier off the tongue these days.
​
I wanted to share this poem with you in written form and also share the journey between mediums this story has already traversed.
This poem was born from experiencing the change the desert can have on a soul ~ especially one who is seeking some form of healing.
It then took flight again as a painting - both inspired by the intense beauty that brings you somewhat to your knees. Walking under the ghost gums through the fields of mulla mulla deep in the Kimberley.
​
~ Lost
​ if you are lost, lose yourself in the desert
let her softly tear the sheets
from your skin
​
the stories you so meticulously built there
your shining armour of service
your stature
your grand ideals
​
let her bathe you in stars and shadow
and wash the world off your tongue
​
the desert
she cares not for idle chit chat
for your charm -
not for who you know
or
what you’ve done.
​ all she asks
is
are you listening?
