SadBirds R BlueBirds

Australia

Published Work

Child Narrator

It's Not Fair.

There's glitter ALL over my hands.
I sat on the tiny patch of grass that made my backyard, looking down at the card in my lap. It was covered with all the glitter i split, and now the drawing is all ruined. I really, REALLY, want to cry.

Today was hockey practice, and i was way more excited than usual. I was super busy all morning, because i was gonna make a present for dad as soon as i ate breakfast. I was gonna make a card with all the stuff he loves, like the colour Blue, paper clips and the green trees mum forces me to eat.

Now, looking down at the mess of blue glitter, green trees and paper clips in my lap, tears had already started making it's way down my cheeks. Today was supposed to be perfect because dad was finally coming home. He was actually gonna see me, all grown up and I was gonna...

Flash Fiction Competition 2019

Tormented by My Past

She was there.
Standing in the middle of my dark hallway, her back to me. Somehow, even from this distance, I could feel her warmth. The pure joy that she radiated was soothing in a way I haven’t felt in a long time.
It had been 7 years since I last saw her. Since I last felt those soft arms wrap around my waist, or felt her hair tickle my nose, or saw that beautiful smile. 7 years since I lost the only piece of love I ever felt.
Then, just as quickly as she appeared, she was gone.

Lunar Phrases

The Ocean Is Vast.

She is a speck of sand by the ocean's waters.

As vast as the ocean be, she is simply 
A speck.
So big to those so small,
Yet so small to those so big,

She is merely 1 speck in billions of specks,
By the ocean's waters.

Not just made of 1 small particle,
She is beautiful in her variation.
Unique in her colour, unique in her shape,
She like the other grains of sand,
But different.

She may just be 1 speck of sand,
But she is beautiful with all her scars,
And will not be dismissed as merely,
A speck.
 

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2019

A Mind That's Not My Own

"I hate you."
When the stars in the sky fell, these words consumed me.
When hope and joy filled my heart, these words dripped like acid and 
Hurt me.
Hurt me with knives and torches,
these words that strive to deprive me of joy.

See I grew up thinking,
"Nothing is ever good enough,
Because you can always do better."
People hold expectations like their an infestation with roots in their mind,
And when I cry, these tears will fall like the stars did.
When society and my family told me that i couldn't make it,
Couldn't take it, 
Couldn't do it,
I'm supposed to fall to my knees and beg for forgiveness,
Grovel with both hands in the air, 
Plead to be given a second,
a third,
a fifth chance.

"When will I be enough?"
"When will the fact that I am trying be enough for you?"
No,
You may as well take a needle and thread,
Sew my...

Invisible Cities

Genie Menschen

Genie Menschen, translated from German, means 'Genius People' in English, and rightly so. It is a small, tight-knit community within the heavily fortified forests of Germany where you'll find society's prodigies and highly intellectual beings. The city is small, but prosperous. There is no crime, no destruction and no war. Knowledge of this tranquil hideaway is not widely known, but to those who have heard of this place, they are driven to madness trying to find it. The city is incredibly bright and colourful, but its completely hidden inside its thick layer of trees, and in saying so, the people of this city receive no sunlight. Imagine if you will a dome of trees, large enough and stable enough to withstand the worlds greatest catastrophes. Within this dome is a tasteful metropolis with people whose skin is whiter than pearls. The only people to ever leave Genie Menschen, are the people known as the Sonne Einfangen (Sun Capture). These people...

The Vistas Beyond

Thoughts of the Impossible

As i look out the tiny window from my small, battered apartment - filled with knick knacks and dusty antiques - I see bustling streets and cant help but wonder if i might be one of those people one day. The people down there who are so filled with success and satisfaction that there is no worry of the roof over their head, or the mouths they feed or the clothes they wear. Alas, wandering thoughts leads down a dangerous path, for i am far too curious and not smart enough to keep myself alive by morning.

Extraordinary in the Ordinary

An Earthy Sunset

Rich earthy soil,
soft in tufts of brown and black.

As the sun is bright,
The earth is dark, feeding branches that twist and twine.

From such roots grow rays of light,
Hues of red and orange, they glow.

Tropical in favour,
Warm in color,

This is the cycle of a sunset that grows.

Once the World Was...

Once, The World Was Wise

Power.
The hasty vine in which grows
and dies.

Such abundance, yet the roots are empty,
and bear no fruit.

I, a Mother,
a Daughter, 
must suffer the endless agony,
forever wrapped in useless vines and twigs. 

I did not care for what i had.
a mother, 
a daughter,
a power.

Pathetic, my roots are.
though the spread and wrap through me,
they taunt with the promise of control,
yet fail to provide.

Once people prayed for my words, 
prayed for my power,

Now it lies limp and useless,
and i am the one who prays for control.

 

Environmental Writing Competition September 2018

She Rules No More

She weeps for her people, the people she loves,
And they weep together, pure as doves.
Her skirt of fern, and hair of brown,
Still rich and bountiful, a queen and crown.
She rules with pride, and has one rule,
Something fair, and something true.
Take care of her, for she is weak,
She gives and gives, but cannot see.
In the beginning, all was well,
People were happy, people were swell.
But over time, things went bad,
Her people grew greedy, went rotten and sad.
Those who were kind had fortune and soul,
But people grew jealous, and sour and stole.
When the evil had more, and the good had less,
The good were envious and were put to test.
Their queen was dying, her people at war,
She heard the cries, the ones who fought,
The people who died, the people she taught.
She weeps for her people, the people who fell,
But her tears dried up, and...

The Peace of Wild Things

Its Beautiful Here

My mind
Goes
Blank.

Sitting amongst a stream of dahlias,
my mind and soul are one with the trees,
the skies,
and the birds who fly above me.

The dark thoughts that press for freedom will not control me,
Those who search for their prey in my mind will not defeat me,
There is only

Silence.

Silence is an oh so beautiful sound, for sound is
nought
but the passing of
thoughts
made clear by your mouth.

Skies are clear.
Fields are clear,
Minds are

Clear.

Clear of clutter that clutters my brain, 
Makes scrambles with 
Dreams
&
Memories.

Its a beautiful place where i lye.
A beautiful place for simply

Silence.

Improbable Flavor

A Slice Of Life

In my recipe book, spanning a single page, are flavours from the life i had yet to live. 

My life started out with a single spice.

From that single taste of freedom, I grew and grew. My palette followed along closely, developing my knowledge of the world and its flavours. 

My life was a pot of mum's homemade chicken stew, getting more and more tasty as she threw more spices in.

From this bite of development, i grew and grew, and my knowledge of the world was that tiny bit more tasty.

My life was a euphoria of flavours and spices, the tastes of all i know making me wise.

And from this final slice of life, i knew that when my recipe book closed, it would gather dust proudly with the flavours it held.

Improbable Flavor

A Slice Of Life

In my recipe book, spanning a single page, are flavours from the life i had yet to live. 

My life started out with a single spice.

From that single taste of freedom, I grew and grew. My palette followed along closely, developing my knowledge of the world and its flavours. 

My life was a pot of mum's homemade chicken stew, getting more and more tasty as she threw more spices in.

From this bite of development, i grew and grew, and my knowledge of the world was that tiny bit more tasty.

My life was a euphoria of flavours and spices, the tastes of all i know making me wise.

And from this final slice of life, i knew that when my recipe book closed, it was gather dust proudly with the flavours it held.

For the Future

What's it like out there?

I wonder...
What's it like out there?
A decade, a century, a millennium into the future...
What's it like out there?
 
The year is 2018, and we are not living up to the expectations of flying cars and inter-galactic transportation, but I'd say were getting close. Not to be super generic or anything but...Are there flying cars in the future?
 
Anyway, that's a little off-topic. I have 3 questions I'd like to ask you but because I'm not a straight-forward person, i'll give you a bit of information about 2018.

It is the 26th of April here in Australia, and life is evolving at a rapid pace. Technology dominates most of our spare time, and without it, i suppose i wouldn't be able to write this letter right now. As far as i can remember, my entire childhood centred around technology, and depending on how you look at it, that's probably a bad thing. In fact, i can...

Zoom In

Go To The Place

Go to the place where heavy streets are filled with lighter thougts,
Go to the place where children run and scream for quiter days,
Go to the place where a house becomes a home through it's self-made memories,
Go to the place where a childhood ends and a life begins,
Go to the place where children sprout wings and tiaras when they sleep,
Go to the place where heavy rain and light fluffy clouds reign the imagination,
Go to the place.
The place where our where a sense of community is crushed by the loud and everlasting sirens,
The place that screams of self-modivation and hard times,
The place.
Go to the place.

The Unknown

I Do Not Understand A Girl's Emotions

I do not know much about a girl's emotions.
I am a girl by gene and heart,
yet the feelings clouded by grey and pink confounds me.
I am a girl in spirit and card,
yet the barriers built around my soul can only create further questions.
I am a girl in physicality and it can be seen,
yet the foolish paths of highs and lows have yet to clear.
I am a girl, is what my mirror tells me,
yet I myself do not understand how it tells me true.
I should understand what goes on in my own head,
I've seen this too.
I should resist temptations to save my figure,
I've heard this too.
So, I do not know much about a girl's emotions,
But I KNOW that not knowing is knowledge enough too.
 

Slow Seeing

A Beast I Knew

The deep- throaty growl could be heard in the distance as a mighty roar broke through the skyline.
I wasn't prepared for the claws that dug through the watery sky and pushed the surrounding clouds from its presense.
I heard rather than saw as the belly of the beast make its way over the city, placing a blanket over the surroundings.
The ground shook as its embodiment stepped closer and closer to my house.
I wasn't ready as the smoke engulfed me and unfurled itself around my home.
My breath shortened, and my vision grew clouded as if mimicking the world i lived in.
The last thing i heard was the broken shrieks as the beast died, and just as I took my last breath, he took his.
 

Flash Fiction Competition 2017

Home is Where the Heart Is

The concrete path I’ve slept on for days is cold to the touch, but the only warmth I’ve ever felt.
The scrap of felt that I hug to my chest isn’t enough to stop the wind from sending shivers down my spine, but it’s enough to warm the coldest place inside me.
I’m broken and shattered by anyone’s standard- cast away like a plastic bag in the wind- but I don’t let my scars define me.
Home is where the heart is, and mine is firmly planted on this path to no where.