Author: Cadence Poetica

Cadence Poeticahttps://cadencepoetica.wordpress.comI am a lot of different things in one package. I am a geek, a poet, a thinker, a seeker. I am passionate, curious, resourceful, stubborn, independent. I'm an "extroverted introvert". I am a spiritual person. I believe in destiny, I believe in fate. I want to be a better person. I want to help make the world a better place. I see life as a journey, an opportunity for constant growth and learning. I like sushi and sea turtles, a good cup of coffee, fluffy cats, the shuffle function on my ipod, a walk on a beach on a grey day, a thunderstorm, a nap in the shade on a warm afternoon… Simple things make me happy, small moments of grace make me smile. :)

blog: but for the grace of God

My South African friend taught me a word – “omgewings gestremdheid”. Don’t ask me to pronounce it! Translated, it means “environmentally impaired” and means someone who is not just disadvantaged or constrained by their environment, but who is impaired to the point of having little to no hope of breaking free of that environment.

My Afrikaans lesson came about because there is a community on my doorstep you could say is bad even by Western Sydney standards. Housing commission, drug deals, burnt out cars up on blocks, shootings and stabbings, domestic violence and dole cheques, it’s got the lot. But it’s also a community with a big heart, and there are a lot of people with equally big hearts working from within the community to bring about real transformation.

Earlier this year, four boys aged 13 to 16 went to Tasmania for a 10 day wilderness trek up Mt Ossa, and their journey was captured by a 16-year-old film-maker. Tonight there was a screening of the documentary, projected against the wall of the local shopping centre which has been closed for years now. In fact, the only things in the Square now seem to be the tavern/bottle shop, and in strange juxtaposition, the local Uniting church. And as we gathered on the car park of the closed shopping centre to watch the movie, some of the boys from the film were there, and the crowd was a little rough and rowdy, but overall a spirit of laughter, generosity and “keeping it real” prevailed.

But for all the talk about the “heart” and “community spirit” of the area, there’s still the drugs, the shootings, the stabbings, the serial convictions and jail sentences, the ready fist, the too-loud laughter and the occasional “Git FARRRRKED!!”. It’s part of the community’s heritage and its legacy. It’s what keeps this place ‘environmentally impaired’. Change is happening, but who you are inside, where you’re from, that never goes away. It becomes part of what shapes you, what makes you decide to do what you do and think what you think.

And I think that’s okay. Life is not a hallmark greeting card, or a neat story arc in a Hollywood movie. Life is not always pretty. Sometimes, life is pretty damn dark. And some people, when faced with that darkness, crumble – maybe because the gap between their expectations and their reality is too great for them to cope. But others embrace the darkness, see it as a challenge; these are the people who stick out their chin and say to life, “Give us ya best shot!” And sometimes they roll with the punches, and sometimes they don’t… but the important thing is, they got in the arena and gave it a go. That’s what I like to think the people of this community are like – people who know life’s not perfect, but they’ll be damned if they’ll let the rest of society determine their worth for them.

I see a lot of myself in this. I’ve been through a lot in my life. I’ve battled some pretty tough demons, including alcoholism and homelessness. And I thought I had closed the book on that chapter of my life, I came out of it fairly unscathed, I don’t need to be that person any more so time to put it behind me and move on with my life, right? But it never really goes away. It’s part of who I am and always will be. I am struggling lately with things I thought were long buried; I can see it affecting my life, my relationships, and my chance to break free from the emotional environment I’m in. But one thing I’m learning is that it does no good to deny the past. I can’t change my experiences – but I’m coming to realise I CAN change what I learned from them.

I hope that I can learn to have the strength to keep it real, acknowledge my past and my imperfections, and realise that it doesn’t have to stop me from achieving wholeness and completeness in my life. I don’t have to worry about labelling myself a victim OR a survivor, I just need to worry about getting in the arena and seeing how well I can take a punch… it may help to have a few friendly faces ringside though. :)

Blackstump 2013 Timetable

Getting ready for Stump, thanks to a trip to Vinnies today I have an outfit for my show Rock$tar… Check out my Black Stump schedule if you want to come say hi!

Friday 9.05pm – Wot WUd Gsus Txt or Are smartphones making us dumber?
Saturday 12.30 – Rock$tar (Solo Show)
Saturday 2pm – Stump Writers Symposium
Sunday 2.30pm – Poetry Slam Bam Thank You Ma’am

poem: i need a church

I need a church
I need to find a priest to hear my confession
I need redemption
Before I give in to the temptation of self

Forced to face the reflection of the past
I reach out to touch, and smash the glass
My wrists are slashed and I bleed
The pain is familiar and leads me back to myself

There’s no escape – I am who I am
There’s no reconciliation for the sins of the damned
Just that feeling of being in the other side if the glass looking in…
Heaven turns her back on those who condemn themselves.

poem: confession manifesto

– TW: SA, addiction

Here is my confession – when I was seven
A little boy touched me in a place I didn’t like
No grownups did anything to stop it
And it was all my fault.

Here is my confession – when I was twelve,
I was angry and I didn’t understand why
My parents didn’t believe in counselling so they hit me
With a Bible instead and told me to shape up or they’d ship me out
And it was all my fault.

Here is my confession – when I was seventeen
My father said, “It’s my way or the highway.”
I put on my big girl shoes and lit out
To face the wide world on my own.

I partied and played out tired stereotypes of misspent youth –
I fell into a bottle and stayed there,
So damn drunk I couldn’t hold down a job
Or tell the man who gave me a ride home late one night
That No definitely does mean No.
I burned up opportunities and friendships
Like the cigarettes I lit to mark the sorrow on my skin
And it was all my fault.

In my 20’s I turned to confession,
Threw myself on the mercy of Jesus
And trusted his followers to be cut from the same cloth
But they chewed me up and spat me out
Like wolves in sheeps’ clothes
And it was all my fault.

Confession becomes my obsession,
I scribble poems and half-thoughts on notebook paper that I screw up and throw out
“Not Good Enough” becomes the motto emblazoned across my chest
As I watch other poets spittin it, hittin it as hard as I wanna do,
As I could do, if it weren’t for this damn block –
And the block is all my fault…

I’m stuck in this confession,
Without a priest to absolve me
Or a psychotherapist to resolve me
I’m a puzzle beyond solving
Fault lines crack and plates start to rub each other the wrong way
My skin gets compromised by a million different splinters all pushing to get in
And the –whoosh- of my soul, trying to get out…

But…
It is not my fault.
In fact, it was never my fault.
And for those of you who see a bit of yourself in my story,
It’s not your fault either.
It was never. your. fault.

We were the ones society was supposed to nurture
We were the ones who were supposed to grow up to greatness
The ones who carried the promise of the future in our tender hearts
Like the unopened petals of a sunset-yellow rose
We were the ones who were supposed to hope, to think to dream,
But we got crushed by the machine,
We opened our eyes too wide, when the light was still too bright to hide us.
And the lies they told pierced the unformed armour of our souls
But it was not our fault…

We were just too fucking fragile.

So I want to lift up this poem as an anthem
For anyone who was ever told they were not good enough
Not fast enough, not smart enough, not pretty enough
That they were simply not enough…

I want to burn away the lies and get to the real you
I want to replace the coals of shame with the fires of truth
I wanna lift up this poem as an anthem,
Because everyone knows coals
Are just diamonds
Waiting to happen.

blog: you are not alone

There will be times in your life when things get a bit slippery, it’s hard to hang on and you feel like you’re falling. It’s natural to panic and reach out to other people around you for help, but you often get mixed reactions depending on who you turn to.

There will always be the people who tell you not to be silly, of course you’re not falling. They firmly believe things like, you reap what you sow, or that a little hard work and perseverance can solve almost any problem you might have. These types of people often think there’s no such thing as depression and mental illness, preferring to label it as ‘laziness’ or ‘melodrama’ instead.

Then there are those who refuse to acknowledge your cries for help, simply because they don’t want to see you fall. They care about you, and can’t handle the thought that you might not be okay. Or maybe they want you to sweep it under the rug, because they depend on you, and need you to be stable and to be there for them.

There will also be those who just want to tell you all about the time they fell. They are quick to talk about their experiences; the “story toppers” are especially hard to deal with – if you have depression, they have the mother of all PSTD, if you have trouble making ends meet, they’ll tell you how they nearly lost everything that one time. These people can be useful, recommending medication or treatment methods, organisations who can help you, or things that worked for them. However, they tend to busy themselves with the symptoms, and ignore the cause.

All you really need sometimes is acknowledgement. What you need is someone to reach out and grab hold of you and halt your downward progress. You need someone to look in your eyes and say, “I know.” And then it will be okay. Because you know that someone out there knows what you’re going through, and they’re committed to not letting you fall.

That’s who *I* want to be – and who I want to encourage other people to be. Sure there will always be elements of all the above people in how we treat people who are struggling and disadvantaged. There will be temptation to deny what other people are going through, or to relate to their experiences in context of our own, and that’s fine. As long as at the end of the day, we’re throwing the life line as well, and letting people know – we’re on their side, and they are not alone.

poem: no exceptions

– Spoken word piece performed at Black Stump 2011

I’m talking about the people who fall thru the cracks
People no one will help cos they got nothing to give back
People we live with, work with, people we see every day,
And yet – no one lifts a finger to help because
“I’m just one person” or “It’s not my place”.

They’re out there struggling with next to no education,
Dealing with disabilities, or lacking qualifications
Getting shunted around between different organisations
Not getting the help they need cos they don’t meet the specifications
Not always looking for a handout – just a leg up,
A word of validation

Discrimination is criminal but also subliminal –
Imbedded too deeply in our reptilian brain
We toss aside the opportunity to champion equality
And fight instead for the right to have our comfort zone maintained

And for every person begging on the streets
There are 100 people going home at the end of the day
To put their feet up on furniture they haven’t even paid for yet
This nation’s got credit card debt coming out of its ears
And while we’re busy living beyond our means
Going to extremes chasing our expensive dreams
I wonder if any of us bother to stop – and reflect,
On whether we need what it is we set out to get?

It’s like an addiction, each acquisition
Gaining us new recognition in the eyes of our peers
We’re so dedicated to this self-medicated, over-stimulated,
Sexually emancipated world we created,
Where we can upgrade our homes, our cars, our jobs,
Even our spouses along with our fast food meals
Our products get replaced before the shrink wrap’s removed
We opt for genetically modified foods, synthetic experiences and fake boobs
But shy away from the “real deal”.

We live in time where bigger is better and “want” equals “need”
And we want everything “here” and “now”, immediately!
And in the face of humanity’s greed the seeds of kindness, selflessness
Start to depreciate.
But if we could figure out a way to integrate, to see ourselves
As being part of a whole, not as a stand-alone equation
Maybe more of us would make the transition, re-organise our priorities and ambitions
Make a bit of a difference to the system before it’s too late.

Are you the kind of person who can recognise a human need
And go out of your way to meet it?
Or are you the kind of person who goes around with your eyes downcast –
Ignoring people with problems and misfortunes
So that you can continue your own blissful existence unimpeded?

I’m not a revolutionary
And I’m not a politician
Just a person who believes all life is connected –
And all people were created equal –

No exceptions.

blog: we are gonna be friends

One day when I was 10 years old, I walked over to a new girl I had just met, offered her a jelly bean, and asked if she wanted to be friends. She took the jelly bean on offer and said yes. It turned out she lived on the same street as me and for three years we were inseparable best friends. Now that I’m on the other side of 30, I’m left pondering the question – when did making friends with other people get so hard to do?

It’s easy to make friends and stay close to people when you see them every day and share bonding adolescent experiences with them. (Having not gone to public school, I can only conjur up images of cliched coming-of-age movies, but I assume those have some basis in truth.) If you’re lucky, you’ll carry your schoolmates into your 20’s – and if you’re really lucky, you’ll take them with you even further.

But once you leave school/uni and get out into the real world, you find it a different game altogether; and if you don’t keep your old connections, you’re socially screwed. Start a new job, take up a new hobby, have a sea change or move to a new town and you’ll find an established social circle which may or may not have room for you. They don’t particularly mind you joining them, but it’s quite clear that you’re the “new guy”, the outsider, at best that kinda cool person they haven’t quite yet made their minds up about.

And for some reason society puts a taboo on loneliness and turns it into something to be ashamed of, to be scared of, to be hidden under the carpet. People associate loneliness with desperation and deeply distrust both. So in order to make new friends, you have to play it cool, you have to act like you don’t need new friends. Because “Hey, I think you’re cool and I’d really like it if we could be friends,” just doesn’t exist in the adult vocabulary. The catch is that if you’re too good at playing it cool, you only end up convincing people you don’t need their friendship. And that gets you nowhere.

So you try to find the balance, but you try way too hard. You wrangle invites to things, you stand on edges of conversations pretending you’re included, itching for a chance to jump in with something relevant and contribute. You do the washing up at every damn party, you volunteer for the jobs nobody else wants and somehow it’s always your shout for coffees or beers. You go out of your way to be nice, to seek out an unfilled niche in the group, settle into it and make yourself indispensable.

And if you manage to find someone who might actually be a potential BFF, you get excited. You bombard a them with emails, texts, invitations and Facebook friendship requests. Congratulations, now you’re known as “intense” at best, “desperate” at worst (and the word “stalker-ish” also springs to mind. They now think you’re weird and will slowly back away while you’re talking to them,

Maybe this is just how it is for me. Maybe all the home-schooling fried all my social circuits into oblivion, and I’m doomed to be hot mess of awkward behavior. But I know one thing for sure: I would give anything for the days when you could just walk up to someone, offer them a jelly bean, and ask them to be your friend. Failing that, can someone please produce a line of “let’s be friends!” greeting cards (perhaps with an awkward turtle motif)?

Marty Schoenleber III – Propane Poet

poem: sleepy afternoon

Your words
Spill from your lips
Into the marshmallow softness
Of overstuffed mattresses
I slip…
Further away from you
Sinking into the ever-widening ellipses
of Blue dreaming
The feather-light fibulas of
Time and reason
Tickle the edges of my mind
I turn away –
Take a breath and catch the wave
Blanketed by oblivion’s fuzzy greyness
I let go, carried away by polytheistic tides
Knowing you’ll be there to catch me
On the other side.

blog: Black Stump… the weekend that was!

I don’t think I can do justice to how amazing the weekend was, but I’ll try! I’d been talking non-stop about Stump for months, but I really missed it last year and was looking forward to touching base with everyone again. And it was more than that – I felt confident about my shows and other things I was involved in and I had a feeling it was going to be amazing.

Friday dawned and of course I was running late, so we didn’t get to the site until after dark. Trying to find a camp site was hard enough, let alone attempting to put up a tent in the dark… after a very tense hour, I finally stormed off and left the boys to it… luckily they managed to put the tent up in my absence. ;)

Spent the evening wandering around different venues, checking things out. Went to an interesting interactive discussion on Fair Trade, watched part of a guitar hero comp, & caught up with a bunch of Stumpers I know. I bought sausages from the God Squad (a Christian motorcycle group) and donuts from the baptists, and moshed to a really good band. Went to sleep about 2.30am.

Was fully awake by about 5.30am. Discovered I’d left a few important things at home – d’oh! – and made the mad dash to Campbelltown to buy replacements, but didn’t make it back to camp in time for the “Meet the Artists” lunch I’d been booked into to – double d’oh! Had plenty of time to get ready for the whodunnit though, which was a blast for all involved! Caught Joel McKerrow’s set – he was just before me – very intimidating to have to follow him, haha… my show went well though, and I had time to relax and catch a few bands before the Poetry Slam.

Went to 7@7 – seven speakers each given a topic at random and asked to speak for 7 minutes made for some interesting results! Then the slam was on… it was awesome! I wasn’t expecting much, since in previous years the “audience participation poetry event” was run in the afternoon and didn’t attract a huge crowd… and although we got off to a bit of a shaky start (weren’t sure enough people were going to sign up!) we ended up with a full house and a really exciting show. After that we went to a Climate Change discussion, caught a few more bands, and finished the evening by going to the “dance party” which was on from 11pm till the early hours every night of the festival.

Sunday was cruisy… slept in till 12pm, had a great chat with someone I’d met the day before, then wandered around until my second show which was at 4pm and then I was pretty much done with my stuff for Stump. Caught Cam Semmens’ show – very funny stuff! The comedy debate this year was – “Social Networking is Anti-Social”; the negative side won that one so turns out we all still love our facebook after all, haha.

Grabbed dinner before heading to the evening gathering to hear Mike Pilavachi speak. After the gathering went to Carpe Idiotus and Michael Connell – saw a few more bands & finally went to see the Outback Hippies play. I’d never seen the Outback Hippies before… that was probably the highlight of the weekend for me! The Hippies do 60’s and 70’s covers, they’re a tradition at Stump – they’re always the last band to play on the Sunday night and they play through till really late. Everyone crowds into the tent and has a bit of a dance and a sing-along; they also called random people – some guy who was turning 18 (we sang happy birthday to him), stump organisers, “Yellow Pants” – a stump mascot! – up on stage to have a dance and sing with them… the whole thing just felt like one big party rather than a gig. And I think it was because people were just genuinely glad that Stump was back and we were all really happy to be there. :)

Monday morning went to the farewell gathering and then wandered around and caught up with people to say goodbye until next year! Packed the tent up and left about 2pm and headed straight for Campbelltown McDonalds. Got home about 3.30pm and crashed out until around 7! I’m still really tired… I have had two cans of Mother today just to keep me awake! But it’s all been worth it and I’ve got so many ideas for next year – Bring on Stump 2012!!

Countdown to Black Stump 2011!

I got invited to come perform at Black Stump this year – which is awesome because it’s going to be back at the “real” stump venue – Cataract Park! The Equestrian park was “okay”, but for me Cataract Park will be the only place for Stump! So I’m excited about it being back at Appin, and am looking forward to 4 days of rain, mud, stomp, great music, baptist donuts – oh yeah, and me on stage! :)

My show this year is called “Poems to Burn Your Bra By” and it’s all about self-expression, freedom and rebellion. What can I say? That’s just the kind of mood I’m in lately, haha. So it will be a great show, and I highly recommend you come and see me!!

But if you need more excuses/reasons, it’s honestly a great weekend filled with lots of stuff to see and do, no matter who you are. Yes, it’s a Christian festival, and there’s plenty of Christian teaching and worship and stuff to reflect on… but you don’t need to be Christian to go, there’s lots of music and artsy stuff to keep you entertained!!

So I think you should come along! And I think you should click the link below to buy a ticket – because I get a commission, haha. But seriously, do come along, and if you do, then don’t forget to come check out my show! Just – um… yeah, leave your bras on. The title is a METAPHOR (sorry to all those looking forward to actually burning their bras)!