Connecting Space

Connecting Space

Poetry Matters


In the end we are the stories of our being, woven into the stories of all those we have touched, each of us a fibre being spun into a yarn and affecting its texture and its colour and its nature and becoming a part with the million others of the thread that weaves the tapestry… and this is how we matter, for the touching makes us part of another’s touching, and another, and another…
“…I knew this man who said…”
“…and she told me how…”
“…he helped, a total stranger…”
“…whoever she was, she made the difference…”
“…someone somewhere said…”
“…I always do it this way, I suppose it started somewhere…”

So what matter if you can’t recall my name? I am out there still, for ever, somewhere, and you could find me, if you just knew where to look.

By SC Jan 2009

Author: Simon • Filed under: Narrative Matters, Poetry Matters • Posted: January 25, 2009 7:51 pm

The Invitation

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty, even when it’s not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”
It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

From ‘The Invitation’ by Oriah Mountain Dreamer
ISBN 0-7225-4045-0

Author: Jill • Filed under: Poetry Matters • Posted: May 6, 2008 7:19 am

Expression of Self

I have been given permission from a young person to share her story through her own words in poetry. This young person feels unloved and abused in the present. These poems are being put forward in order that her voice can be heard.

There titles are as follows:
Remission of the Razor
Until I am gone
Devil’s Paradise

Remission of the Razor

    I f… hate
    when you try to understand
    Thinking your a big lass
    All clever & divine
    Take a look bitch
    I’m better than you
    We both f… know it

    I’ve done my time
    yet still been punished
    Can’t have a social life
    isolated from others

    Time is ticking
    education at risk
    Life is now dying
    waiting for the slice of the razor
    Up & down my arms, leg neck, yeah I’ll go there bitch

    You think your running in my mind
    think you know what’s happening
    But you don’t have a clue
    Boo! scared shitless
    & all I can do, is reminis,
    on how I’ll miss, all of you
    with my razor blade

    Until I’m gone!

Sometimes I believe
I can make myself someone
Bright yellow like the Sun
In a sea of grey
I’m told to be unique
but you make it so hard
You say I’m wrong
& keep me away from others

How can I prove myself bitch
when I can’t talk
when I can’t walk
amongst the others
Bit unfair don’t you think
Your tickled pink
find it funny when I try to explain myself
then you shout & scream
It’s not a dream
I’m sitttin here been beaten
It can all be seen

You turn a blind eye
Thought you would
as if it never happened
I’m a liar
I’m a thief
But where’s the truth
I ain’t hear in much
besides your screams

Look into my eyes
tell me I’m wrong
& I’ll just stay here
writing my song
these lyrics
They keep me strong
When the world is against me
Sayin I’m wrong

Like I said
I won’t move
I won’t cry
Just pass me by
Ill stay writing this song
Until I’m gone


Devil’s Paradise

    Sat in a world full of fear
    No-one brave enough to take a fall
    We think we are one and all
    who will prove it?

    We try to fight for what is right
    but always seem to fail
    what happened to the Holy Grail
    and the unite of people

    Wars, whores, Crackheads
    Wait theres more
    Cryin, flyin, theres children dyin
    but you just don’t care

    As long as your alright
    Got your fists
    got your ammo
    No f…. gonna come near you

    They ain’t stupid
    neither am I
    I know what’s right & wrong
    unlike you!

    Drugged up to the eyeballs
    F…in wish I was
    then all these blows would’t hurt as much

    You never hit my face
    hmmm… I wonder why
    maybe cos a black eye’s hard to disguise
    unlike bruises on my thighs

    Break my arm bitch
    you may as well
    Say I fell down the stairs
    What a clumsy girl

    You know I have no power
    but yet I try
    I cry
    I’m screaming inside

    Who’s gonna fight
    bite the bone for me
    bloody tears stain my face
    In the devil’s paradise



Cuddle me close
rest my head on your heart
let me hear the soft thud, thud, thud again
whisper in my ear
tell me you love me
I’m not dreaming
I can still smell your scent
& feel your long black hair
tickling my face

We chat about somethings
We chat about nothings
We hug over sadness
We laugh over joy
I want it all back
I want my kids back too
Rather than looking at their pictures
with their glassy stare

They miss me too
cuddles on the sofa
while watching scooby doo
my little babies
sweet angels
I’m writing this for you

I’ll take a bow
in front of a crowd
whether they like it or not
they are gonna hear this now.

These are lyrics from the heart
so join with me
shout & scream it
till your soul pops out

Fill your lungs
take your final breath
before you leave your pain 7 suffering
Yeah your out
Now show the world
show them what your really made of
No more tears
Your amazin
Its worth it all now

make yourself something
turn it all around
your’e all grown up
& you’ve been found


Author: Jill • Filed under: Poetry Matters • Posted: April 29, 2008 10:23 pm

Dancing with God

dancing with god

This is a poem sent to me via group email from Carolyn. It reminds me of a story someone told me of a woman warrior being taught battle skills by an expert. The warrior was surprised that every time she approached the expert, he moved! She had to learn the skill of moving toward him and with him … He is leading and she is learning to be in tune. Where I would part company with the unknown writer of this poem, is that there is definitely a cost involved in following God’s dance steps. What do you think?

When I meditated on the word Guidance,
I kept seeing “dance” at the end of the word.
I remember reading that doing God’s will is a lot like dancing.
When two people try to lead, nothing feels right.
The movement doesn’t flow with the music,
and everything is quite uncomfortable and jerky.
When one person realizes that, and lets the other lead,
both bodies begin to flow with the music.
One gives gentle cues, perhaps with a nudge to the back
or by pressing Lightly in one direction or another.
It’s as if two become one body, moving beautifully.
The dance takes surrender, willingness,
and attentiveness from one person
and gentle guidance and skill from the other.
My eyes drew back to the word Guidance.
When I saw “G”: I thought of God, followed by “u” and “i”.
“God, “u” and “i” dance.”
God, you, and I dance.
As I lowered my head, I became willing to trust
that I would get guidance about my life.
Once again, I became willing to let God lead.
My prayer for you today is that God’s blessings
and mercies are upon you on this day and everyday.
May you abide in God, as God abides in you.
Dance together with God, trusting God to lead
and to guide you through each season of your life.
This prayer is powerful and there is nothing attached.
If God has done anything for you in your life,
please share this message with someone else.
There is no cost but a lot of rewards;
so let’s continue to pray for one another.
And I Hope You Dance !

Author: Kate • Filed under: Poetry Matters • Posted: March 18, 2008 6:40 pm

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