30 September, 2011

Move along

"Move along, move along," barked the coarse voice from the shadows.
"Move along, move along," snapped another uniform just as gruffly.
"Down the road, down the road," sang a younger constable skipping, until his older counter-part bopped him a knop and eyed him with obvious meaning.
"Where are we going?" asked a bewildered woman with bedraggled hair and hat askew.
"Why are we going?" queried a street seller, nudging neighbour on cue.
"And who's orders, anyway?" the suited man demanded.
"Never mind, just move along," called the first policeman with a yawn.
"No," said one and, "NO!" said all the people they were herding.
"Look here," said the young constable in song, "you may have heard, you might have known that movie makers are entering town. You might be thinking, you might have sewn the sock's heel to the learning, but by happen-chance the cages opened and there are tigers here a-roaming. Frightened beasts and sorry bleats are echoing over yonder. So hurry along before they come, move along before my song is done."
And the people scattered.
"Good job," gruff uniform boxed the young one. "Now you've caused a riot."

bleurgh. this post is to be deleted...
dysfunctional thought fragments that cannot be put together.

26 September, 2011


Balance is regulated by 3 different body systems. The vestibular system (ear), the visual system (eyes) and proprioception - also known as joint position sense, the ability for the body to feel what angle or where a joint is in space. Different people tend to rely on certain systems more, although most people generally rely on their sight for stability.

Theo had good balance. He could walk the edge of the curb with his eyes shut and he would probably have been good on the tightrope, if his fear of heights permitted him to try. The fear of heights was the fault of his brother and the highest balcony of their old 3 storey house. They no longer lived in that house, but that is another story.

What Theo was good at was knowing exactly what position his body was at what angle and how much effort was needed to move a certain distance or achieve a certain amount of force. This was beyond proprioception and bordered on 'extraordinary body awareness'. It was because of this highly sensitive body awareness that Theo had good balance. How he got it, he never told me, but he did tell me what he did with it and this is his story:

This is where I run out of steam and need more ideas...

23 September, 2011

daydream time

Warm billowing air like fluffy marshmallow clouds drive to pillow sleepy heads during daydream time. Whether working at a desk or hammering on a roof, there comes that period of the day where time slows into deep motion and sounds fade until only the twitter of satisfied birds embed themselves in the brain. The air is silky smooth, the mind drifts on unchartered currents and working muscles still.

Another world. Another reality. Another lifetime. The slow-mo of what-ifs. Darkness beckons and weariness pulls downwards, making the heads nod in agreement to its monotnous song.

A phone rings.
Somebody comes in
and suddenly the feeling of almost driving into a brick wall at 100kph
shocks adrenaline into the system.
The rush and bustle of the end of the day
grows into a noisy race against time.
Things to do.
People to serve.
Phones keep ringing.
Papers to file.
Sections to put up.
Messages to reply.
Phones keep ringing.
People interrupt thought trains with questions.
Notes to write.
Notes to tick off.

People come in and out.
Phones keep ringing.

The quiet moment forgotten.

20 September, 2011


Sneaking in the shadows
and hiding in the shade,
colour coordinated ruffles
in blending schemes do wade.
Light of heart
and humour bound,
inward laughter billows,
while laces tied
and tricks a-wide
try shower you with pillows.
Flick and snip
on the ground,
the dancers spin much faster,
when suddenly the culprit runs
and all go running after.

19 September, 2011

Sunny day

On a sunny day of dome
the warm air rises faster.
Quickly do the lower levels pump
the cold smells upward after.
On these days the riders soar,
leaping onto vents
that wind streams may carry
up knee painted dents
and cause a tricking fall.

Thinking of a story...

16 September, 2011


I hear the trumpet calling
across the golden sun
in a field of windswept grass
where peacefulness doth run.

I hear the rippling of quiet waters
murmuring softly by
in a bed of silken sand
where polished pebbles lie.

I hear sweet voices singing
of greatness and of glory
for the coming children who
stand in beauty of their story.

I hear the children singing
in loud and happy chorus
of love and praise for their Dad,
whom gave everything for us.

I smell the scented air
from gentle, refreshing breeze
that has walked beside so many,
granting strength that will not cease.

Outside time and beyond the known
my Father's voice is calling,
trumpet ringing to augment his voice,
its smooth, gold notes are soaring.

Behind the world with all its care
Before the cross with all its shares.

Others have gone before me,
the golden path is worn,
but still I hesitate beside the sea
where bobbing boat adorned;
waits for me to take that step,
the final journey to my reward.
I'm not sure if I'm ready,
but to Him I'll toward,
knowing that if He's calling
today I'll meet my Lord.

Casting down burdens for light yoke,
in everlasting love I'll soak.

The old is past,
the new is come,
the story sung
and it is done.

For my two uncles who have passed away within 2 weeks of each other due to different circumstances.

You never really know when your time is up. Make it good. Make it last. Make it great and have a blast.

~By Korallieam

15 September, 2011

eery still

music stopped
wind eery still
who to talk to?
where to turn?
distance far
how to reach?
watching in slow motion
the people around me
one by

where is the horse and rider?
where is the promised aid?
covenant of covenants
promised word
must hold
or hearts will
and run away
if they run
more are exposed
not enough
to protect the
weak and young.

oh call again
perhaps they have not heard
maybe too far away
something has waylaid

still they fall
no one comes
was all the work in
i'll not run
and i'll not hide
small though
i am
not enough worth
for a capital
not enough
but still
still i'll stand
still i'll try
still i'll do my best
until all pass away
i'll not be
i will wait
until i fall
i will wait
for them all
and though i fail
and though it may be
perhaps i'll have made
enough time
for others to
enough way
for others to

music stopped
wind eery still
who to talk to?
where to turn?
distance far
promised word

One gone, the other in critical situation.

~By Korallieam

murky stars

Amidst the murky stars
stirring in the the thick water
floats all manner
of flotsam and jetsam.
Hearts have burst
and their pieces scattered
across a watery grave.
Heavy hands,
weary wills,
Reach for banks stable,
firm ground
and grasslands green.
Reach for silky water,
for skies of burning bright,
clear air that eases breath.
Look up to the hills,
a new day dawning,
white horse rampant.
Rider blowing horn,
help comes.
Strength upon strength
to raise up
the feeble knees
and sinking hands.
Redeemer of the lost,
saving those who
took the wrong turn,
even though they
Wrap around
and lift.
To the higher rock,
the refuge
and hiding place.
In that fortress
will return again
the joy
taken during
Grief like tattered rags
shall fall
and anointed
garments shall
take their place.

Hold fast
and don't let go.
He's coming back
for you.

~By Korallieam