I inherited a garden,

it is a part of the house,

that we bought,

and it isn’t me at all.

I inherited a garden,

it has hedges,

it has roses,

it has areas of lawns.

I inherited a garden,

and I spend every weekend in it,

not relaxing,

but I really want to,

not enjoying,

but I really need to,

I am starting to hate it.

I inherited a garden,

I inherited a lot of work,

I inherited a lot of maintenance,

I didn’t inherit any peace.

Peter Holland 17/4/2010

On the weekend,

in the sunny backyard,

I took some photos,

portraits,

of my children.

I have hung them on the wall,

in a row,

staring out at me from the past,

happy faces,

and they make me smile.

They chose the photos,

laughing at them,

asking me to print them,

asking me to frame them,

asking me to put them,

on the wall.

The weekend is over,

they aren’t with me now,

I feel soulless,

alone,

isolated,

and I wish it was the weekend again.

Soon, we will be sitting,

in the lounge room,

playing games,

looking at the portraits,

and I am whole again.

Peter Holland 13/4/2010

Looks like it will increase my post numbers, but lumping them together, the coal and the diamond was never a good idea.

I have been sheltered,
Cut off from reality,
In a coccoon of my making,
Now that binding has been broken.

I am free!
I no longer fear the upset,
The rejection and hurt,
I embrace it,
And the black dog can slink away,
No longer does it rule my heart.

I was living,
Numb,
And I wasn’t living at all.

My children,
My work,
These were my life,
These were my props,
Holding me away from my reality.

Now I face a new life,
Not with the one I thought forever,
But a naked, lonely soul,
Time to understand me,
To love myself,
And to learn to love again.

It is my time,
My life,
My love to share,
And I won’t waste it again,
There is someone out there,
More deserving,
And it is time to live again.

Peter holland
14/01/10

Hotel view

 I look out of the window,

at the vista of skyscrapers,

framed by the beach,

and the setting sun.

 

so cramped,

these lives of others trapped in their units,

some don’t see the beach at all.

 

I step out,

on to the balcony,

and listen to the life far below,

and smell tropical flowers their perfume is relaxing me.

 

on the far horizon,

there is a storm,

dulled by the distance,

it is a pretty light show.

 

the storm is getting closer,

but I can smell the rain,

feel the cool breeze,

and I wait for it to arrive.

 

The light show intensifies,

flashes that seem of blue, pink or white,

and i go inside,

lying on the bed,

watching the storm and the sunset.

it is a peaceful place.

Peter Holland 4.45am 31/10/09

For Gail

I remember seeing a girl,
standing at the taxi rank,
she looked upset,
like she had missed something.

I recognised her.

I went up to her,
asked if she was alright,
asked if she wanted to share a cab,
and we went back to belconnen together.

We went to the boardroom,
a nice old haunt of mine,
she had a liqueur in a chocolate cup.

I walked her back up to the labor club,
she took my hand, and
led me towards the library,
we kissed under the underpass,
then she ran away.

I was in shock,
stunned,
partly because she had kissed me,
mostly because she had run away.

I thought,
I will never see her again,
and that was sad for me,
she was so smart,
so beautiful,
and I knew I wanted a girl like that for my forever.

Many months passed,
lonely months,
sad months,
ainslie village months.

And then,
when i had put her out of my mind,
I was reconnected,
introduced to her,
and we became friends.

we spoke nearly every night,
about every single thing,
and I was happy to hear from her,
and I wished she was mine.

she decided to have me over,
for dinner and a chat,
but her ex came back to town,
and the dinner was cancelled.

it was sad for me,
I wanted to be with her,
but it wasn’t yet my time.

She called me up,
out of the blue,
dinner tonight?
I was able to come over.

we talked and ate,
in a really small bedsit,
and then,
we kissed.

That was it,
she was my girl,
she was my friend,
she became my life.

We were together for everything,
when she changed jobs,
I was there,
when she felt down,
I picked her up.

I decided to propose,
in a romantic setting,
and popped the question,
in telstra tower,
I held my breath,
she said yes.

We were engaged,
living in a unit,
with running water down one wall,
and we started to save for our future.

we decided to wait,
no kids till a house,
and we saved,
saved and saved,
till we bought a house.

here, it all went wrong,
we were trying for kids,
and it wasn’t happening,
and we found that the problem,
was me.

I begged her to leave me,
to find a man who could give her,
the kids and a family,
she refused.

she found a solution,
IVF and assistance,
and she tortured herself,
with drugs and injections,
until we were pregnant,
I was so humbled by her sacrifice.

The child never made it.

I was devestated,
I withdrew from her,
and we drifted apart.

we reconnected,
and our daughter was born,
eyes like her mother’s
a tiny beautiful girl.

She decided that a friend was best,
for our daughter,
and back to the injections,
the pain,
the sacrifice.

we were told that there were two heartbeats,
there were two people coming,
and I prayed every day,
that all would be fine.

it was,
for the boys,
but I almost lost her,
and she almost died.

Now,
I feel like I am standing,
at the library,
watching her drive away,
watching her leave.

I don’t know,
if she is coming back,
but she loves me,
I know,
and I can wait…

22/10/09 Peter Holland

as the willows whispered quietly,

next to the tinkling waters,

the sun sparkled gaily,

in the tumbling stream.

bands of gold and silver,

clear water and sunlight,

a flash of colours,

a trout fast in the darkened world,

of tree shadowed waters.

Never changing tranquility,

a border on the inner peace,

not a bad word nor painful cry,

unravaged by man’s influences.

A dark shadow crosses the sun,

and is gone,

faint on the horizon,

disappears quickly from the memory.

the willows are immortal,

the waters always flow,

you just have to take time,

to remember.

Peter Holland 29/5/1990.

words of rationale,

describing but confusing,

leading away from the plot,

never remaining in reality.

 

A shot in the darkness,

an unorganised note,

a word out of place,

a paragraph of life.

 

Eeriness unfolding,

a chime in the wind,

a plaintive cry,

the light reveals nothing.

 

Editing a sequence,

the mistakes are fading,

the brilliance blinds,

comprehension is gained.

 

Love of others,

a comma or a space,

a statement,

an exclamation,

all end in a full stop.

 

Death is destiny,

love is a paradox,

a channel to the side,

escapism from the cruelty.

Peter Holland. 14/11/1988.

 

Just us in the darkness,

no conviction or promises,

company for that reason only,

holding each other,

loving forever.

 

pushing only leads to hurt,

slowness and care,

breaks through nerves,

and love fills hearts.

 

years of pain,

forgotten in one night,

the one embrace,

a healing salve,

for a mind of torment.

 

Like a strained farewell,

I left you in the foyer,

not crushing you with love,

but an exchange of words,

that can never show,

the truth that was in my eyes.

 

Listen to this,

as if I was reading it,

as I feel your hair,

against my cheek,

as I did that night,

but its now in my mind.

Peter Holland. 6/10/ 1994.

 

In the summer twilight,

after the wind has died,

everyone sits on the balcony,

to watch the evening storm.

 

The pink and purple clouds,

highlighted with streaks and flashes,

the crack and rumble,

the first few drops,

and the smell of water hangs heavy.

 

Lying in bed,

with windows flung wide,

gazing out at the turmoil,

flinching at each clap,

gasping at the lightning.

 

The steady drumming,

on an old tin roof,

the never changing pitch,

quietens down,

till silence descends,

silence then broken.

 

The hammering on the roof,

the final gasp for life,

then clouds disperse,

and you drift to sleep,

with the lullaby of frogs,

thanking the sky for water.

Peter Holland. 9/11/1989.