*fusion | poetry | Stories of 2003-2005

Sat, January 31, 2026

*fusion - poetry - stories of [2003-2005]

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Total poems in the archive: 29
Total stories in the archive: 3

Chase!
[24 June 2003]

Pages from newspapers, crumpled pieces of paper, and yellowing junk-food cartons flew around in swarms on the deserted street. I turn around to see two distorted shapes appear on the horizon like trucks in the distance. I knew I was being chased. My soles crunched on small rocks, the only noise to break the silence, apart from the distant squeak of car horns.

An evasive mind turns me to an alleyway on my right. Uneven grey rocks, rubbish, and bloodstains on walls were revealed before my eyes. Hardly any sunlight got through to this cold, damp and stale alleyway.

A large green door with a broken lock lures my senses. I pull at the door, but it would not open. The sound of distant voices and police sirens alert me to work fast. With another pull, the large door squeaks open.

I walk inside to find a dimly lit warehouse, littered with boxes and crates. As my eyes became adjusted, I could see trucks parked at the furthest wall. The door slams shut, leaving a resonating sound to echo in the air.

I rest behind a pile of boxes, knowing that the two men had no idea where I was. My deep thoughts were broken by a sharp squeak. I looked towards the door. It was closed. The tin roof starts banging from the strong wind. Next, I feel a barrel of a gun poking my head. "You thought you got away, didn't you!"

Bushfires: A Menace in Many Ways
[15 May 2003]

High pitched and unbearable screeches of cockatoos sounded in the air above, awakening me from my sleep. As my eyes opened, the flock of cockatoos quickly flew away in one direction, their wings flapping in panic in the distance. The sky was covered in a dark haze and the warm wind brushed over my small body. The smell of dinner and the pleasant aromas of bush flowers wafted through the air. As I looked around, the area was full of animals, small and large, frantically scurrying around and creating a stampede of noise over the hard, dehydrated, brown soil. It was strange as the area would normally be completely still and quiet, apart from the occasional scurry of small feet.

I climbed up the smooth, soft bark of the tree to get to the green leaves that were hanging off delicate branches. I could feel the strong juices of the leaves seep out after every chew. As I ate, a strong smoky smell, like that of a warm wood fire, penetrated the calm, clear air of the bush. A flicker of light and the sound of crackling leaves awakened my senses. It was a bushfire.

Immense heat burned my back as leaves around me started to catch fire. I leapt from the tree, and took an awkward landing on my front feet. By now, the whole tree was alight. It had been my home for five years, but now it had been destroyed by ferocious "little orange men". I quickly ran away from my home, leaving the dark smoke and the crackle of leaves far behind.

As nightfall approached, the moon showed its fluorescent body in the dark sky above. Tall trees stood high above the ground, ushering me to go away, with their soft rustling whispers. I crawled out from the brown soil and onto a hard, dry, and cracked surface. Heat rose from the surface below, like the way the trees cool down when the sun "tucks" herself into bed each night. Small lights in the distance flicker like stars in the sky. I made my way across the hard and dry ground and lay down on its warm surface. Slowly, I closed my eyes and thought of the day I would encounter tomorrow.

Lights shone around me, and I thought that it must be a search party. The lights came closer and closer towards me, and I frantically leapt to the side as the lights rushed past my frightened body. Suddenly, the white lights turned red and quickly disappeared into the distance. Now I realised that it was one of the many contraptions that humans used to travel from place to place. I now know that a road was not such a good place to sleep, so I curled up near a berry bush at the side of the road. My heart beat wildly, but I was able to fall asleep with the thought of how close I had come to being hit by a car.

I slowly opened my eyes as the bright morning sunlight beamed down upon me. Instead of seeing tall trees and brown soil, I saw glistening metal wires that were interlaced all around me. This is a disaster, I thought to myself.

Looking around, I saw other cages with kangaroos, lizards, and a variety of other animals inside them. On each cage was a sticker with the title, "Animal Rescue". I breathed a sigh of relief, as I knew I was going to be taken back to the bush, far away from humans and where no bushfire could heat my grey fur and my soft skin. A large shadow appeared over my cage, and I noticed that it was a human. Yes! Now I can be set free, I thought to myself.

Before I could celebrate much more, a thin glistening object pierced my soft skin. The sounds of nearby birds drifted away, and the sunlight turned into a fuzz of grey light. These were the last thoughts that drifted through my head - the head of a young and innocent koala...

The Creek of Life
[3 March 2003]

Soft footsteps trample the cool, damp ground below. Last rays of the sun filter through the high canopies of trees, warming the velvet leaves upon them. The forest floor is now shrouded in pale orange; reveal the lifeless leaves and twigs that once covered tall, energetic trees. I stand motionless, watching the shades of pale orange subside to darker shades of grey, then to black.

Night-time dawns. A whole new world of mystery and fear reveals itself. Clouds hide the reluctant moon, like thin patchwork concealing watchful eyes. The clouds glow with fluorescence, illuminating the dark in dull shades of grey. Small water droplets hang off tall, tower-like trees, flickering slowly like pale white candles. A congregation of trees rustle softly, like tall statues with watchful eyes, branches swaying in the wind.

The quiet flap of wings in the distance signals the start of a new night. The scuttling of small feet around me sound in the night, searching and looking amongst the dry leaves of the forest floor. Small, delicate birds ruffle feathers and prepare for flight. The sounds of the forest are the only flaws to disrupt the peaceful night.

A cool, fresh wind strokes the delicate hairs of my body, revealing the presence of a cooler night. Stale bodies of rodents; the dead, dry bark of trees; and dry rotting leaves, are the distinct smells present in the cool, alpine air. The small delicate body of an owl leaves its perch, its wings awakening the night sky, and feathers rippling through the cool fresh air.

I rest my tired and lethargic body against the dry, old bark of a tree, decayed and deformed from years of neglect and the harsh environment. The dull, grey light of the forest fades from my eyes; the glistening water, the distant flapping of wings, and the hard, damp forest floor become a blur of black and dark grey. This is the last thought that infiltrates my consciousness.

Short, sharp, high-pitched sounds fill the air, awakening me from a peaceful sleep. Ruffling of feathers from large, rigid birds above, attracts my attention to the cloud-less sky and the bright, warm sun. The sky is deep blue, like an ocean, deep in its own thoughts and its own actions. Water drops slowly from branches - civilized, and one-by-one. Large puddles form on the damp forest floor, each puddle like a lake, with each drop of water like ripples of danger in a calm environment.

Water glistening in the distance engages my senses - a thousand camera flashes sparkling near the horizon. Curiosity allows me to pursue the new find - a creek I had never seen before. Water trickles over rough rocks, like clean moist hands rubbing the coarse and hard texture of skin. I glide my hands into the cold, clear water; my hands creating smooth ripples in the slow-moving current. A small green leaf falls gracefully into the creek, catching the current and sailing downstream like a boat. Cool, refreshing water splashes up against the sides, drenching its dry, rough surface. The last rays of sun light peer over the horizon, warming my tired and dehydrated skin.

poetic jungle of juices