Good Men, Hurting… a message from the Jasmine King

Bob came to mow the lawn yesterday. I saw him creep through the side gate while I was sorting out my shell collection. He slunk in hunched and filthy. His sticky white legs poking out of saggy King Gees. Bandy ankles thrust into ratty Blunstones, raw with mud and ash and spit from years of grubby labour. … More Good Men, Hurting… a message from the Jasmine King

my America

Gondwana’s prim bouquet of

lemon and honey, red earth and gum

is utterly disheveled

by this exotica

of hot pine, leather,

gunsmoke

and sweat. … More my America

Love bird

There was a story once, about a girl so in love, and so confused, that even though the man she adored was near her every day, she never once dared risk his attention. Years and years went by before, one day, she found herself beside him and, even though she was tattered from the heavy seas of … More Love bird

The Beautiful Suffering

Could the wounded human love story be the tearing open of the bud to a truly Divine Romance? Huge, hard, kinky, tantra, boots and whips and puppies. Ice creams, gags, wax and weird conjugations of the kundalini…. since when did sensuality form this venomous helix with suffering? And where, on our wounded Earth, is all this going … More The Beautiful Suffering

Eroticaaaa…..

In the garden, wet with rain, we went seeking a balm for our longing. There, folded in the petals of a flower, trembling in the heart of every leaf – the letters of a poem from the beloved. *    *    *    * First, find yourself humbled aroused electrified by a petal…. wet with rain. … More Eroticaaaa…..

Bliss. Bomb!

A month washed in, a month washed out. Here in Vilcabamba rainbows were broiled up and rinsed out, we had a peace festival which caused no end of bitching and treachery, dust devils hurled themselves about the gritty streets and I walked on with dirt in my teeth and a bliss bomb in my pocket. … More Bliss. Bomb!