Tuesday, September 20, 2016

like driftwood...

And on days such as these
I'd swim out to you if I could /
Feelin' low on high seas,
the bones in my legs like driftwood.

Every rock on this beach has a story to tell,
just like every grain of sand / Tell me, what do I have to do to break this spell
when love doesn't go as planned?
Bless you for giving this blind man back
his eyes / 
And the ocean doesn't roar, my friend:
it sighs!

and if I pick up every shard
of broken paua shell
I find on the beach,
perhaps I can use them all
to piece back together
this shattered heart?

(c) Brent Harpur, 2016.
“Little islands are all large prisons; one cannot look at the sea without wishing for the wings of a swallow.” 
(Richard Francis Burton)
“We are like islands in the sea, separate on the surface but connected in the deep.” 
(William James)

Sunday, March 20, 2016

at the very beginning of time...

I was there,
at the very beginning of time:

When the red earth,
it cracked & chipped;

When the universal curtain

And when the wings
of all the birds
were clipped.

But now,
all I remember:

Is that my worldly possessions
(by sea)
were shipped;

And a day

in May

when your poker-face,
it (finally)...


(c) Brent Harpur, 2016.

“Stop acting so small. You are the universe in ecstatic motion.” (Rumi)

Sunday, October 25, 2015

self joy (like Spring) eventually returns...

I am out walking to an art opening...
Seeing all the bats circling in the deepest blue night sky, my heart sings!!

I walk past a gate, where a little boy is holding tightly onto his Dad... He is pointing into the air, shouting at the top of his toddler lungs: "That's a bat!! That's a bat!!!"

As I walk by the bat-watchers, his gaze breaks from the sky to me.
He points in my direction, excitedly, and exclaims to his father and the rest of the street:

"That's not a bat!!!"

I laugh, and without looking back, flap my arms, slowly, deliberately, like a bat...

Mere minutes have passed. At the tram stop, I glance up at the night sky again.
But, alas, it is now too dark. I see no more bats. 

The joy of the moment has passed.
But as I think of the small boy and the look on his face,
as he watched the bats circling overhead,
I smile.

The night sky may have eaten all the bats now...
But deep inside
this forty-six year old boy,

the joy remains.

(c) Brent Harpur, 16th October 2015.

“A human being is a part of the whole called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feeling as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.” (Albert Einstein)

“The earth has music for those who listen.” (George Santayana)

“In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.” (Margaret Atwood)

Saturday, October 17, 2015

the magic in the small...

In my part of the world, it is Spring now
And in yours, it is Fall /

Perhaps it was a dream (or I imagined it),
Did it really happen at all? /

It's not the big things I remember now.

You taught me

to see
the magic in the


I miss you and every day,

Whether you want me to
or not! /

It was so easy 
falling in love with you.
And whether or nay
you wanted it,

my entire
heart you got!! 

(c) Brent Harpur, 2015.

"Change everything except your loves." (Voltaire)

Voltaire, on his deathbed, in response to a priest asking him that he renounce Satan:
“Now, now my good man, this is no time to be making enemies."

“Love, It's all we're going to remember, at the end of it. What are we waiting for? Love with all your heart.” (Jeff Brown)

Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Blood Moon, Super Moon (Nth Vs. Sth)...

In my eyes,
Southern skies -
true, you do not pulse, convulse
with blood-fire /

However, Dear:
the Heavens sear
as you pull our tides inside
out with desire.

(c) Brent Harpur, 28/9/2015.

Photograph: (c) Catherine Satrun 2015.
Used with kind permission. Thanks.

“Moonlight drowns out all but the brightest stars.” (J.R.R. Tolkien, 'Lord of the Rings'.)

“Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. then your love would also change.” (William Shakespeare, 'Romeo & Juliet'.)

Monday, August 31, 2015


This is not my home.

I came here for work. And there no longer appears to be any work for me here. And the work (it chose me, not the other way around) is important to me. It sustains me and provides me with oxygen. I am good at it.

I am very thankful and blessed for the friends I have made here. And a lot of you, I have met through my work. I am very grateful for this. If you have met me while I am drawing or teaching (or reading my poetry), you have (indeed) met me while I was truly alive and in love. You (each and every one of you) have been my home here, my home away from home. You are a place I can feel safe & myself. You have given me much love & shelter. You have fed me (with both food and words) and have (so many times) given me a sense of sanctuary, safety & security.

But this is not my home.

Spring is here. This little bird is feeling the tease of the sun on his feathers. It has been so long since he has drank from the blossoms. Von blue skies warm my eyes & my dusty wings, fill me with courage. Change is coming. I can feel it now. It is time to fly.

But I will take all of you with me, inside... In my tiny, fast beating bird-heart. Your love & your well-wishes will travel with me and will make me feel that perhaps I can do this...

That (maybe, just maybe?) I am courageous & brave. A new home is calling me.

The World Awaits. The World Begins...

(Brent Harpur, 31/8/2015.)