The People

There are people who forget
that the people
is made up of people,
that community
is a communion,
which means
‘coming together’

There are people who forget
that an ideology
is not an entity
to be subject to,
comes first.

© Janey Colbourne 2017

The Song of the Seer

The Song of the Seer

You say I am not this body
I am this body
But I am more than this body
I am Earth
I am the sun
I am sky
I am the universe
I am you and you are me
I am everyone
I am all beings that strive with intent
My body is the door
I need to see it
To know that I can choose
To open it or close it
I am the door

I am fire
I cannot be crushed
For I am the force of life
Manifesting itself
My body is the vessel
I am the vessel
Containing the uncontainable
The mystery
You say I am not this body
I am this body
We are all this body

© Janey Colbourne 2017

You Said Goodbye To Dignity (for all women who have given birth)

This is poem dedicated to all women who have given birth.

You Said Goodbye To Dignity

You thought you’d left your dignity
at the door of the delivery room,
when you felt your body out of control,
when you were swept on a tide of pain,
and you couldn’t hold back your screams,
you thought your dignity was gone.

You said goodbye to your dignity,
with your arse in the air when you crapped yourself
in the face of the midwife,
when you poured with milk
in the supermarket,
the stains upon your shirt, right there.

When you were busted open for all to see,
at the peak of vulnerability,
naked and invaded by strangers,
with your body fluids everywhere,
roaring like a wild beast, begging for release.

There, precisely there, was your greatest,
most courageous, most powerful

© Janey Colbourne 2017

A Piece of Me (spoken word)

A Piece of Me

Sometimes it feels
Like everyone wants a piece of me
Shaken like a dog’s bone
Knawed raw
A dried up orange
Stale and weary
I have no more to give
Squeeze out the last drops
Never enough
Never satisfied
A never ending game of ping pong
And I’m the ball
Just want to be alone
Run away with butterflies
On a Spring morning

Why must I always be on call?
Why must I be the referee?
Then in the blame game
It is my name
On the card
Family dynamics
Too dynamic for me
I want a piece of me
For myself

The weight of needs is crushing
I’m not a one-stop-shop
Mediate, negotiate
Consulate, try not to retaliate,
Like a carton under tyre
Too high a
Makes me pop
And then you say
What’s up
With you?
You’re wound too tight
You have a problem
Yeah I do
It’s you

© Janey Colbourne 2017


If my wounds

are the source
of my greatest power,
then my gift is the gift of insight.

I am gifted with knowledge
of how it feels to be old,
while I am still young.

I could sink into despair,
frustration and bitterness,
or I could flip the coin

and use this experience
to expand my compassion,
to share that knowledge,

my understanding.
Patience is the lesson
that comes from pain;

and courage of heart.
True strength is not
what you think.

I say to the young,
when you are old
you will know

why I do as I do,
for now you can only

and listen,

most of all, listen.

© Janey Colbourne 2017

Awaken (to the wonder)

This is an important message…


How have we come to this?
Minutely absorbed
in desperate days.
Vainly seeking
transient bliss in triviality,
we miss infinity.

Blinded by our own lights,
we miss the night sky,
a reminder of
the immensity of awe.
We seek to light the dark
because we are afraid.

Afraid of the vast
and glorious universe.
Afraid to be so small,
yet not seeing how
we are smallest
when we flee.

Behind the concrete,
invented reason.
Ethereal illusions fade
without true soil,
a feeble substitute
for freedom.

Brave dissolution in expansion
beyond the flickered dreams.
An open soul is whole.
Awaken to the wonder,
seek out the night sky,
and remember…

© Janey Colbourne words 2016 recording 2017