Little White Clouds

Little white cloudsLittle White Clouds
Light as cotton candy
Catch us as we fall

Little white clouds
Soft as soft embrace
Catch us as we fall

Little white clouds
Floating on the wind
Catch us as we fall

Little white clouds
White as dirty snow
Catch us as we fall

Compassion all but left us
Integrity retreats
Humanity, hands held high
Justice bids defeat

Little white clouds catch us
Catch us as we fall

Little white clouds
Suspensions in the air
Catch us as we fall

Little white clouds
Interlacing like a blanket
Catch us as we fall

Little white clouds
Of singular persuasion
Catch us as we fall

Little white clouds
Intermittent vagabonds
Catch us as we fall

Gratitude, head bowed down
Love sheds salty tears
Morality, the first to leave
Conscience lives in fear

As we fall from grace and favour
We fall in space and time
We fall to false not candour
We fall to rob life blind

Little white clouds catch us
Catch us as we fall
The great descent of fallen angels
Little white clouds
Catch us

© Kacey Patrick 2015
(suspended in the air – 10/3/2015)


At Journey’s End

Arriving at our journey’s end
We sought solace in a friend
A friend to share our secrets with
To share regrets and sorrows
To share the joy and wisdom learned
All that we’d seen, all that we’d heard
But no such friend was waiting there
The day after tomorrow

Before the journey had begun
We thought there was at least someone
A single individual to stand the test of time
But one forgets and one is blind
When one is harsh, cruel and unkind
That friends need to be nurtured
Even if they are of thine

We’re sure the bitterness of heart
It was not present at the start
But on reflection, maybe it was there
Since time began
And through the years it ebbed and flowed
And like a sickness, it did grow
Until all hope of recompense
Was wilted in distain

And friends that stayed all drifted off
One by one, then all at once
Some held on, until the hurt
They found too much to bare
And did we notice, No!, not then
We thought we were a God to men
Too arrogant, conceited
And too cold of heart to care

So now, at journey’s end we see
All that was life, all memories
Are no more that a little blip
In life’s eternal roll
For if one has no friends to share
The joys and sorrows, loves and cares
The only one to confide in
Is one who’ll save your soul

© Kacey Patrick 2012 (October 1st)

On the notion of ‘pussy whipping’…please explain?

First Published June, 2010

For the first time in a very long while, my husband and I sat down to dinner….together and alone.  A very rare moment to be savoured!  It was not however, the romantic interlude that this very rare moment called for.  Exhausted, we downloaded the day, indulged in some adult conversation and very speedily regressed to elaborate on the debate of the morning.  For the life of me I can’t remember what that was, but I enjoy a good debate and was having fun! My husband opted to leave our discussion for fear of it escalating beyond control. Wise but very exasperating!!! The retreat did allow me however, to further contemplate the notion of ‘pussy whipping’…..Please explain?

To (in part) quote my husband:

Pussy Whipping; how the husband/father/man in any given relationship eventually surrenders to the whim of the woman and ceases to express opinion in order not to rock the boat and entice the ‘bitch’.


I have a theory!  A theory why we – particularly we as mothers (and please exclude yourself if you are always delightful!) – evolve into humourless and narky versions of our former selves and why our other halves feel that they are ‘pussy whipped’ into submission and muteness.

I believe that we exist largely out of control.  Once glorious free agents, a child appears and pwoof!, our lives transform instantaneously and our whole paradigm has to shift.  We are no longer who we were, we are no longer who we thought we would be, we are everything to everyone and no one to ourselves. We do however (most of the time) manage to keep it all together, juggling the balls of motherhood with aplomb with very little prior training. It can be glorious picnic! Adventurous, filled with wonder and overwhelmingly, an incredible and very blessed excursion. But!!! There are the bindi-eyes and the green ants and sometimes your venture into the park to enjoy the sunshine is rudely interrupted by a freak thunderstorm.   So too, the manic organisation of children, the catering to their needs and whims, the maintenance of familial equilibrium…..all can become chaos in less than a matter of minutes.

Add another adult, with their own thoughts and views on domesticity and parenting, into this heady mix and there you have it.   The mother, who has spent the best part of her day trying to maintain balance, reacts very badly to any advice or suggestions put forward by the man of the house who might just have arrived home and only been privy to the last five minutes.  Unless you have a partner that remembers well his former life as a mother of five, this scenario is (often) repeated and repeated and repeated and the ‘bitch’ emerges.

She’s not really a ‘bitch’.  She’s just incredibly desirous of a heartfelt, “How can I be of help to you?”.

We love your input, your masculine slant on parenting,  your fatherly concern and presence.  The issue is the timing!!  At the end of a day we are humourless and narky and simply trying to maintain status quo until everyone is in bed.   Add to this our constant assimilation of how to be the best mother we can be, fulfilling all our expectations of ourselves and living up to the wider community’s notion of the perfectly in control parent and…..WE DON’T NEED MORE ADVICE. We simply need you to expertly catch the flying balls, continue juggling with us and do it all……EXACTLY HOW WE ASK YOU TO!!!….xox

Joy of the Day: Surviving it!


A Song and a Smile for Souls

It filters down the avenue
A song –
The high note in the perfume of the business district
The source, a woman foreign and unfamiliar in her surrounds
The rainbows of her garb
Illuminate the steel and glass
Reflect austere designs of finance
To nestle like a flower in a fallow field

Her gait is full of dance
As she strolls along
The fabric of her dress swirls, lightly caressing
The trousers and the shoes of those she passes
She smiles in greeting
A smile slightly mischievous
It beckons full of promise
As though there is a garden, not far off
Which only she is privy to

Some stare
Then retreat at once
To their bunkers of glass and comfort
Some smile and share
A brief visit to her garden
Only to return to the musings of their working day
Of those that smile
A very few, they follow
And as their steps they lighten
Their garden grows abundant
Their garments turn from black and grey
To the iridescence of a butterfly
And a song and a smile are passed on
Like nectar for the soul

It filters down the avenue
A song –
Not one song but many, as they follow close behind
The perfume of the tune, precedes their joyous steps
As they leave all their cares to others
Trapped in their glass and bunkers
Sifting through the pages
And emails of their working day
Gazing out the window
To marvel at the flowers in a fallow field

© Kacey Patrick (Sydney 16/7/07)/revised 2012

Song For Delphi

Would you choose to swim or fly
Choose the water or the sky
Would you be a mermaid or an angel

Would you choose to keep control
Or to unleash what’s in your soul
Choose to question or to simply follow

Life revolves, we question why
We come to life then life flies by
Would you choose to live as an immortal

Or would you have a finite grace
A short existence in this place
Would you choose a finite time for pleasure

Do you prefer to find a place of peace and solitude
Would you choose to end your life one lonely night
Does your heart feel hope when sorrow beckons to the moon
Do you always fly with your decisions

Would you choose to play your part
And to unleash what’s in your heart
Would you find a path where truth is certain

Would you choose to live in fear or strive for all your can
Would you risk all that you had for freedom
Would you choose to be unkind to woman, child or man
Do you feel all lost in indecision

Would you choose to find a place
Where life revolves with simple grace
Would you choose to show your heart’s compassion

Would you choose to swim or fly
Choose the water or the sky
Would you be a mermaid or an angel……?

© Kacey Patrick 2003 (revised 2011)
For Delphi. And in memory of Melanie Shanahan, and the ‘boat people’ who have risked everything on their journey to Australia.

Music – Aaron Hopper/Kacey Patrick (stringmansassy)
Released on ‘Dragonfly’ 2004.

Song For Delphi (‘Dragonfly’ – stringmansassy, 2004)