I can’t remember when he stopped calling me LOVE

It was somewhere around five years of age

Perhaps I was becoming a lady already and this, Somehow
Was a threat to him

Mostly he was my hero

Dark haired robust fit and handsome

Outdoorsy like me

The dogs did what he said
He could fix things
Drive fast
Always Up early and energetic
Hard working
Knew stuff of the earth

Peter Jackson cigarettes lined the Ute dashboards
And he could shift sheep or cattle riding a horse
Like a john Wayne

He never once said I love you

Maybe he did but I never heard it

My mother and he laughed on occasion
Very very rarely

He was young and vibrant

Mum was an exotic naive innocent lady
She rebelled in manners truth and trust

Of course this was the devil he danced with
From day one

Secret outings and rendeavue
Controlling money and her every movement

Andrew and I were accessories
Perhaps still are
To his wild selfish agendas of get what you want and run

He had
Or seemed to have no soul
At times
But act on ego
Destroying whomever was on his path
Usually for financial gain or status

Nothing about sharing ever seemed
To enter his consciousness

I grew up with a father who resented me

And a mother who attempted to

In her mild meek yet
incredibly strong ways
attempt to make up for it

For his moods
His bellowing
His anger tirades
His disrespect
Put downs
And lack of affection

His glares
His impatience
His rudeness
His lack of emotion
Or connectedness

She reeked silver goddess
Still does

Very much the true
Wise beautiful, now widow

He reeked Prince charming or the devil; no in between

One or the other

Polarity his middle name

Capricorn energy leaking through every cell

Rage and passion not lacking

His patience
At best minimal

He could be scarey

My brother did o.k
He got away early
Sent to boarding school then overseas

He just shut his mouth and stayed away generally
Aquarian in his head

Whilst I was left home to witness wear and breathe the contempt my parents threw at one another

Conscious audible and not

It’s often the unsaids that cut the deepest

Mum was passive
Which gave him even more freedom

Why she didn’t get out then and there I have no idea

I held his fire
I am his fire

I am
after all his only, as far as I know daughter

This fire. Maybe it scared me too

Yet propelled me to sporting determination and occasional greatness

I played national level sport

I am sure she feels the same thing
Why didn’t she just get away

For the kids
For her



We all have wings to fly


She is free of him

A bit harder now her soulman is not
Around to protect herthough

She is not free of the torture of us having no dad
She switches off
She must
This has undercurrents

No male figure leading her daughter and son

I tend to have feminist views
No; I am not a man hater

Sometimes though I nearly feel I am

A deserted island with entirely women occupants has always appealed to me

I, Dare I say it
Try, allbeut now in a minimal.way

And love him

I do not like him

But I love him

It just sits better

I have to live with this
It’s no biggie
He didn’t hit mum or I
or anything

Just put locks on the petrol bowsers
Transferred money so I would pay his taxes even as an undergraduate

mental scars and abuse that only mum and I know the extent of

Mental abuses etches through my ribs even now

I can feel when I exhie his words of not being good enough
Too slow
Not this not that
Have I seen how fast she is how good she looks how smart and rich she is

Last encounter after four years of no contact
He sat in the driver’s seat of his mercedes
Chewing a sandwich
Open mouthed

A knot slithered through my stomach
My throat closed over and not one part of me
Felt relaxed
Or alive

And he chose to not even look at me

Eye to eye

Am I really that ugly?
Too hard to look at?

Lack of eye contact to me
Is and will always be a cop out

Who is actually hiding?

He mumbled I hear you want to borrow a car
You’re not going back to queensland

No hi. How are you.
Or even a fake or half hug
Which, I would have been grateful for

I was going in with a half open mind
Be kind
Mum said it’s about time he helped

I walked away thinking
I never want to see you again


For the umpteenth time

Poor little rich girl strikes out

He did look like shit
His sister had just passed away
And i am sure he must fear death now himself

Normal folk it would soften

Make one want to give a little more

I would

He had gotten fatter
I was shocked to see his dishevelled appearance and his apparent non care

Eyes still blue

They are mine


My blue eyes

Fire and light
And life

Yet cheeks sagging
Kind of heart attack material

He looked old
And yuck

And made me feel beyond yuck

I am reminded why I tend to do ANY THING
to stay away from this narcissist who can rip me to shreds in an instant

I have had times where I could dissolve it all

He could not even say sorry to my mother

His wife of thirty four years

Sorry for the loss of your partner
Like she is an complete stranger to him

Her beloved
Her soul mate
Her lover
Her walking partner
Her driver
Her confidence
For ten years

All over resentment
And the cage
a bitter
Divorce battle does

Even now

Divorces ruin lives

And families reel in havoc and silence or eventually cracks and crevices leak out through silent gods and vampires and become death disease cancer depression and illness

Being dead alive

There is no worse ailment

Being dead alive

And families disintegrate
And one has to
Learn to rely on yourself

I had my cat
the pines
Lovers lane
my fake gun
cowboy hat
and the lush green hills to run in

Thank God

The land saved me

Only thing that did

Still does

And My daddy
My so-called protector

Whomever he is

My strong beautiful male figure who could do anything
rescue animals fix tractors belt the primary school bully Or parent if need be

The man I and my mother countlessly
Stuck up for despite his wrongdoings or harsh embarrassing behaviours

The man I lost at five years old

I remember being in the porch
Pleading to go with him.on outdoor duties
I loved it
I was his motorbike princess

And it was like something stopped.
No more love. Or honey not that either of my parents ever called me honey

Bit there was this switch
This disconnect

May be


Or I

Was never there to begin with

Mum’s father
My beloved papa
My male heart figure

Would say

” Nobody is better

Than anybody else ‘

Sage by if only our politicians would listen

Patriarchy or hierarchy systems fail and divide souls

Look after our own first I say

Life is short
Love hard

hug often


It can save lives

Dream and give

While you still can

All I have



1 thought on “August”

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