 | LOUISE MORIARTY is a Traveller, Adventurer of the heart, Poet, Fool, storyteller of the new cosmology. An impossible dreamer! In her travels and experiences she has given herself the joyous job of writing a poem for every person in the world. She recognised that when your heart song is acknowledged, you feel seen for who you are, you have the courage to follow your truths and know you bring it just by being here. Master of Social Ecology, Social worker, Circus trainer and performer, community cultural development worker; Louise delights in weaving pathways for the child within to have full expression. Giving us permission to play into what truly brings our senses alive. Using her bardic form of storytelling to sing the song lines of your soul, this modern day minstrel, makes poetry live through the everyday life of the hero and legend in all of us. www.miraclesandwonderdownunder.com |
Day 30
Warm kind man
how I slap at the sides of your generosity
to see how far it will stretch
Somedays I can’t help being a beast
and wondering if you will leave to give me my freedom back
Then I am taken to my limits by the sound of chewing or snoring
and I wonder what trick of fate love is
Are we destined to loop in a devilish game of disappointment and dishonour
and then you are there and I am with you
and we are stronger for being two
Understood and acknowledged and there is no question
that this is exactly how it is meant to be
—
Day 29
This day although feeling far from perfect
could not be any other way
For if I became evolved
Reached nirvana
was forgiven for my sins
what would I do?
start all over again?
When I attain the perfection,
the success I seek
I will still be me
Determined to live as I love
Respond as I do
React and blame who
Or shall I take responsibility
and allow myself permission to be free
—
Day 28
An invitation just for you
but this invitation not to my home
Its for three not two
to the house of the poet who roams
A wanderer of here and there
she gifts her poems to everyone
She shares her poems everywhere
They brighten your day as the sun
We chanced to meet in the street
her ink dried on paper handmade
it had the iambic pentameter for its beat
and even though those words did fade
The sentiment in my heart
Stayed she saw me through and through
I soon took pen to page and did start
To share rhymes with each I knew
Inspiration is her way
creativity she accesses
draws down words in unique array
your destiny it professes
So if this bard you’d care to meet
we are both invited to dine
its such a treat
a chance to meet one so fine and Divine
—
Day 27
The type of artist that I be as I awake each day
is the kind of artist spontaneous with joy, love and play
Whether circus writing dancing or drawing
mandalas of every size
I am the kind of artist you just cannot disguise
My hair pulled back out of the way whisks exploding it won’t stay
smile of a minx random thoughts this one thinks
clothes brightly coloured primarily arrayed
Except upon her skin where tattoos are displayed
I wonder if we can improve in everything we try
and seek out miracles and magic as we evolve our tricks and fly
I vision the world where freedom means something new
and move to the dance that makes this feel true
Therapeutic recycling of journal pages and notes
creates handmade paper mixed in with favourite quotes
singing songs that come down from the heavens just for me
to sing to the mountains, desserts and rivers while I am roaming free
and then I see another spirit ready to accept
the words that I am given to show them how they are adept
at being themselves and I flip and laugh with ecstasy
because in them I see the mirror of the greatness that we be
—
Day 26 Funny
It just doesn’t matter how many words I write
I could keep them coming deep into the night
and still the funny thing about the thoughts that I create
they would just be my own happiness they might not be first rate
They might not make another laugh
or bring them to a chuckle or a guffaff
Each little word as they roll it around
might bring a grimace or a frown
Still I have a smile on my face
this poem is my saving grace
It keeps me creating keeps me sane
because to see things from a different angle is always a gain
—
Day 25
A day of preparation
A year of collection
fragments of thoughts, stories, poems, beliefs
all that planning what a relief to recycle it all into its colours
Journals rehashing emotions repurposed symbolically
letting all that past creativity manifest as power as I set it free
soaking in the water of the emotions from which it came
blending it back to its nature as through the water it is strained
pouring into containers of every shape and size
A rainbow of reflecting made manifest before my eyes
and then the artistry engages
all the patterns collection arranges
Artefacts of natures dreaming
scraps of paper meaning seeming
to be doubled to be needed
respect for the routine must be heeded
—
Day 24
I wonder what I wonder most
Is it the father son or the holy ghost
who speaks to me when I am driven
to follow my heart to live for the living
If each of us is in your keeping
and in your likeness we are made
What is it that we keep on seeking
and why so many things we feel must we evade
I also question my motivation
to be a good and moral catholic girl
but the desires built in and the passion mounting
leaves me fighting myself and in a whirl
Im certain I am pure of heart
these powers are in me
and if I let myself follow my truth
Would I be truly free
Because the doctrines don’t do justice
and no rules will let me be
I wonder if permission could be given
to just let ourselves see
The holy wonder of how we are
Each designed unique
and giving ourselves permission
to love our inner freak
—
Day 23
I feel it rise in my soul
tide of spirit whole
You release my needs
indeed my fertility freed
As the waves crash
at their highest point
the fires burn
and the ravers dance in every joint
The asylum heaves
to a heavy mix
We are all itching
to get our fix
We toss and turn
Walk in the night
Crave for spirit to return
to our sight
Rituals and ceremonies
All performed
energy keeps us up
then when yawn at dawn
Still the light
seeps in and reveals
All our daydreams and nightmares
all how we feel
—
Day 22
Presence can come anywhere
Each day we test our will to bear
being mindful in every emotion
some wash over like an ocean
others just are whisper thin
and come to us on a whim
but every moment is an invitation
to be our personal meditation
—
Day 21
this cup has travelled from another shore
the dirt it was made by centuries more
some peasant travelled from their town
to a factory to make it round
the wood from hills that heat the kiln
left a landslide all too soon
and from it what shall I drink
and from where it came from
shall I think
karma entwined in all i touch
no wonder we shut down its all too much
—
Day 20
Sun shine your rays on me
Its morning and I stretch to greet
wonder today which friends I’ll meet
or what delights I’ll see
Birds they sing to greet and be
as joggers run to their heart beat
Sun shine your rays on me
As I sit quietly on this seat
A quick jog then to the sea
I chase the waves and then retreat
An old friend appears we splash our feet
then go for a cup of coffee
Sun shine your rays on me
—
Day 19
There I dug in garden deep
Why do I always see pairs of feet
under the fence I yearned to climb
faster than the beans the thick strong vine
Part of the rainforest that once stood there
Where carpet pythons slithered without a care
I imagined it again lush and green
not covered with concrete a dull edged glean
and so I took a look over yonder
and there my confusion was full of wonder
Behind the backyard view brand new
their grand big house had fallen in two
—
Day 18
There was relentless debauchery in the boudoir when the androgynous courtship began and to look on and wonder in silence you couldn’t tell who was woman or man
An ambient symphonic satisfaction swam through the air like a breeze
seeking its magnetising other they each out the window stared at trees
One tall and slender the red pine, the other a wide green girth
as they looked from one to the other they smiled heartily with mirth
For neither believed they belonged here caged for a day to get in
Their looks did not endear them to anyone one so large and one so slim
but these two lovers of arboretums who would rather be with plant than their kind
found a synchronicity that most rarely can find in another mind
With out even speaking a work like a blossom unfolding to blush
their leaves rubbed together and alignment came out in a rush
it was only the subtlest movement that confirmed to the other with a glance
that these two misaligned edge dwellers would be willing to give love a chance
—
Day 17
As a light shines on my lids
I hear the bleating of kids
grass rushes in the breeze
as helicopters fall the leaves
i arise and find
the country side is kind
no natural noises wind
through my mind
And yet I can’t forget
we are not far from the city yet
my anxiety releases
when being in a place that pleases
Butterflys amble by
young calfs cry
Then a car goes by
culture impedes no matter how hard we try
and so we take the time
What is it we hope to find
a rhyme that defines
peace in our time
—
Day 16
But only once a week and that was on a Sunday
They got down to their knees
pronounced a verdict on their actions
Sin or not sin
It was not forgiven
for in remembering
they were their own God
Whip and all
—
Day 15
I wanted to say to him my god are you mad
These are not words to be spoken out loud
and still he was there did not disappear was not struck down arrested detested
The truth was revealed
then neatly they let the veil close over
once again the silence was maddening
—
Day 14
Oh such beauty and we are a part of it
Nurturing ourselves on miracles each moment
Where is our gratitude?
air invisible for the most part silent and still it can blow us into change
Earth solid under our feet can swallow us
We can ride the waves or they can take us down to the depths like a deep rinse cycle
The hearth fire can warm or burn us
Shall we forever be rating the experience
Or will we learn to live it
—
Day 13
I cannot believe this God could be so cruel
Give us this world only to destroy our place in it
We are made in his image
Supposedly
Creators
What madness have we created?
—
Day Twelve
Voice opens sharply
lifts to praise
the beginning of the day
The womans beauty
belies trust in this world
that seems to have gone quite mad
She sings of her faith
opens her heart
to the gifts she sees around
I dare not trill
like the birds greeting the dawn
for I feel disatisfied
how can she see only the light
when the darkness
still blankets my view
—
Day Eleven
Drip hangs on leafs edge
butterfly heartbeat quivers
all things are changed
—
Day Ten
As I told the holy story, pleasure trembles through my slanting ego in rivulets
It was the wrong tense but it was an act complete
—
Day Nine
Settle down in a hole in the ground and Iive with the animals
Be satisfied with what you have and envy no one
Everyone can stand on their own two feet and make a living
even if they don’t own Heaven and Earth
the Kuan Yin Oracle
I had struggled and strived to make life my goldmine
Followed the course of what I thought
would give me the very things I needed to make me happy
So all the objects I had procured surrounded me
I strove to keep them orderly and clean
I protected and guarded my valuables
Felt proud that I had managed to do
What I at first I thought I could not
Yet it was laughable for now all I wanted was to
Settle down in a hole in the ground and live with the animals
All that gathering possessing and pride
competition I could not hide
All other motives aside
I had believed the advertising
Even knowing it lied
I would have been better off being a nun
trusting not one of the things that they shun
no need to gather for fun take none
See the life of a consumer as a doubtful pun
Be satisfied with what you have and envy no one
Instead of fighting for whats mine
and exchanging my time for money
It really isn’t that funny
because as time whittles away
and all of my duties teach me to forget how to play
It is me I have to start forgiving
I have forgotten to be aware
to share and care
to all I have let flow in giving
Everyone can stand on their own two feet and make a living
But it is not for the purpose of conquering and collecting
for building a nest where your fear is reflecting
to open your doors and embrace in your place
others who are different put a smile on their face
Even if they feel their life’s a disgrace
compassion you may birth
understanding may dawn
generosity and nurture will become your form
surrounded by joy happiness and mirth
even if they don’t own Heaven and Earth
—
Day Eight
As I look out the window
what do I see
the wind blowing cigarette smoke at me
Are my children so stupid
what have they become
Do they not understand the hazards
smoking is not fun
down behind the shed they sneak to sneak
a quick fag they’re so clever cos at them I cannot peak
But of course from this vantage a smoke trail pours out and my non smoking nose has very little doubt that I should tell them off they are just kids
but then I laugh at all the stupid things I did
They are stretching their wings in the strangest of ways
Self medicating stress in these confusing days
I wonder should I just trust they will see through the haze
and let them get through this annoying phase.
—
Day seven
I am the Goddess searching for the throne on which I can sit
To rest my weary feet and back for a little bit
For I have been the caregiver the visionary royal
performing my tastemaker
rebelling with charm
Creative explorer advocating intellectually
and all this I do before getting others their tea
Spiritual I am for sure but as an athelete I must train
because to cover all these bases I must be fit to
think from this Goddess’s brain
—
Day six
She shut the gate
closed
pulled the chain up tight
pushed herself up against the old wood
returned to the car
The long drive up to the house was empty of the usual birdcalls
She wished to find something different when she arrived
But all was as it had been when she left
Unlocking the door
an echo faltered
she slammed it shut
holding back one single tear
—
Day Five
Rumpled in pillows of new beginnings
Puffy from a life tilted sideways
It has been known that all things will change
What a surprise to be music of sunrises and sonnets of sunset
—
Day Four
I came to be seated in my chair without any rhyme or reason It was out of flavour for the season I couldn’t believe you had gone staring at the place where that chair was worn I took to feeling an unusual tone No longer did this place feel like home
I could no more to you roam and so like a mad thing I took off all my clothes and danced like a child flinging my appendages to the open windows and wondering what I would attract next.
—
Day Three
Permission to be larger than life
a container for joy and all the strife
Characters expressing and at rest
A place where no-one has to pass a test
Philosophising stewing venting and doing
All we be and at the end of the day being me
Others can drop in and find some food
or inspiration if they are in the mood
a hand held for a little bird
a place where the muse runs wild
it can be absurd
It is the space I hold and share
it is a place one known for care
Day Two
No one can be expected
to do the number of tasks
we have set ourselves to do in a day
the number of projects
the number of emails
the number of posts
the number of phone calls
the number of places we have to be
courses we have to do
bills we have to pay
things we have to register
groups we have to be a part of
the internet has made our lives easier
enabled us to plan faster
instigate and develop connections
explore possibilities
that we never would have come face to face with
we are exposed to so many fantastical potentials
that we have the ability to reach
that we expect to be available
that we all have within reach of our finger tips
We know everything
we are filled with viewpoints
exposed to every extreme thing that is happening on the planet
and we are concerned that we cannot keep up
cannot do as much as we would like to
aren’t firing on all cylinders
are running in the wrong direction
crying tears of blood
for fear that we are the cause of the massive overwhelmed
because we expect so much of ourselves
and then your partner says is that a poem
and you wonder have I just written the blog
I have been meaning to write all week
—
Day 1
Found you were
Sacred you became
The seed of life in you
Representing wonder
rapture in the moments miracle
Just a symbol
precious ancient and unbending
I salute you with the will to live an
examined life