#What Is Success?

Why do we feel free to choose, to live how we want, be who we want to be?

One week you are busy with work, the next you are not and that pushes you towards being the person you’ve always wanted to be. Unfortunately we need money to live and therefore need a job and therefore choice is irrelevant, unless you are the lucky few making lots of money from a job you love.

I chose to work six days a week, four different jobs, for a year. One, to make money and two to give me a purpose.

I am a mother & a wife, I already have a purpose, but somehow not contributing to household coffers makes me feel less important, less able. I already feel societies eye watching to see if I will redeem myself by working like a dog again, never to attempt a new life of creativity & enjoyment.

  When did society turn. Having a good job and providing for the ones you love used to mean more than the job title. Now you are defined by your job and that makes it easier for Joe Blogs to categorize you without talking to you first.

I’m a drum teacher currently teaching people with disabilities, I have my own cleaning business to work out some energy and I used to work in two cafes. I was busy near enough 8hrs a day 6 days a week. I am now teaching and cleaning 4hrs a week. It’s killing me taking time off but I have reached a point in my life to either:- write, perform my songs, teach drums, write my stories & poetry with aim to getting published, no immediate financial gain but fulfillment on a deeper level, or clean quickly, teach & try to squeeze everything else into a short period of time, making money but not fulfilling my creative need.

 Not having a career is hard for me to sit with, on the other hand it means I am not in the systemic ‘work/life balance struggle’ and for that I am thankful. My mind is having trouble concentrating and I seem to have a desire to do lots of things in my day, then get overwhelmed by my array of interests that I do not know where to start. And I am only in week 4!

 People that are out of work and have a strong desire to be part of the workforce must struggle on a daily basis. I cannot imagine how difficult it must be to get out of bed and feel motivated if there has been no work for months and no alternative found.

 The fact of the matter is, society has turned us into to drones keeping us busy 9 to 5 (longer in most cases) to pay our bills, the house, the car, clothes, schooling, taxes and that little ray of hop, a holiday!

All these things we would happily pay for if we were able to make a choice in our career and not be judged by our choices if one is less profitable than another, instead your choice is irrelevant and money is the dictator.

 I am lucky as I have a husband that earns enough for the family and my ‘jobs’ seemed to pay for the fun things. I am also lucky as I have a couple of skills and talents to get me more work, but I’m scared to go with my gut as it’s all new and picking one that makes me feel like successful.

 So everyday for the last 4 weeks I have questioned myself, my skills, my motherliness, my wifelyness (I know it’s not a word, but it fits) my worthiness. 

 And my conclusion is, I am good, intelligent, hard working, creative, inspiring, innovative, appreciative, loving, forgiving, damn good fun, great drummer alright singer, getting there guitar player and all round nice person, but it takes a lot of effort to repeat that to yourself daily and feel happy, when society puts income first as a measure of success.

 Have you ever thought about the layout of a government questionnaire? Income is generally the third question after Gender, Country/State. That’s how much your government respects you as a human being. 

 Our measure of a successful person needs to change if we are to give people the hope and respect they deserve!


Just found this on my comp!

As you sit here wasting your time, listening to me talk in rhyme,

I’d like to bend your ear and grapple with the fear,

Of disillusionment and abandonment of knowledge.

Don’t get offended, when I say you’ve pretended to understand.

The human race as a whole has been stupefied and dumbed down as planned.

No one strives to be the best or to better them selves, I confess, I used to be one.

It seems that mediocrity is the new superiority.

Kirsty ‘Mad Eye’ McIntosh  2008

#Feet! Inspired by the homeless living in Glebe, Sydney.


Feet, clothed in designer leather,

Walk slowly toward me and rush quickly passed me

I’m not a beast; I’m not going to grab at your ankles.

I see the look you give me out of the corner of your eyes, I’m not blind, THAT, might make it easier.

They walk by; once again I am unnoticed.

I want to say “This, is not the real me, if you knew me you’d understand

I used to be attractive, confident, admired. Now I am abused, fragile ALONE.

Some blue and white stripes come closer, closer… I’m nervous and try to conjure up some strength,

Too late

They’re right in front of me, I look up to their owner. Slicked back hair, greasy spotty faced teenager. Here’s trouble I think to myself, surprisingly, a hand is offered, $1 in it, gesturing for me to take it.

I reach out my slender dirty fingers and then watch as the coin goes flying to the ground away from me.

I hear laughter from afar, the stripes retreat… I stay where I am, too ashamed to move, the laughter is louder and drenched with pride, immaturity & ignorance.

What have I become? An entertainer for the twisted, a fixture on the paving stones, a ghost…

Nobody cares, everyone disgusted by what they see

“It’s not my fault, I don’t have an addiction, I was a loving Mum and wife, good friend, a pillar of the community! I owned a home, car, clothes, the usual tat.

Then lost it all in the instant

He died.

© Kirsty ‘Mad Eye’ McIntosh 2008

#Midwest Poetry inspired by watching documentary about the dust bowl


                Dustbowl Remembered

As I walked across the desert, sun beatin in my eyes.

Could not see ahead of me, behind me only dust.

Tryin’ to seek salvation like I had been for years

God only knows if I’d left sooner

There’d have been none of the tears.

Maybe if all citizens of Oklahoma cried in unison,

The crops would grow again & sustain us for another season.

As it was each tear that fell got soaked up in the dirt.

And all that grew in wheats’ place, was starvation & hurt.

No sooner was it discovered, land was sold & bought,

Families came from far & wide to live in a tiny hut.

Mud was turned “the wrong way up” to some peoples’ horror,

No one saw what was to come, blinded by the US dollar.

Fields of green turned to gold, one year to the next,

Each family reaped rewards, life full of health & happiness.

Prosperity washed across every farmer that dared to gamble,

No matter which way you looked, wheat was at every angle.

When war broke & price was high, on bushel & mans’ head,

We did our bit for country, sewed more & more each week.

Til finally there was no more soil beneath our aching feet.

The dust was picked by strong winds & blown across each state,

Settlin’ on homes & peoples’ lungs, sendin’ hundreds to their fate.

Many packed up & gave in to natures cruel displays,

Those that stayed & hunkered down thought it was “ the end of days”.

Black Tuesday, saw a lot of men, lose what fortune they had.

Bills were pillin’ up outside the door, things were lookin’ bad.

Years of hard toil feedin’ many from their land,

What thanks did they receive?

Foreclosure from the bank!

Prayers rang out from all around for a saviour to find an end,

Roosevelt was to be that man, givin’ food & jobs to all.

But as to the problem with the dust, even he couldn’t make that call.

The desert that my feet tread, used to be lush prairie,

Had we shared the land with buffalo & people that were wise.

Listened to the words & heeded the blue skies,

Our lives could’ve been carefree.

I take my hat off to those who tried to beat nature at it’s own game.

Plantin’ trees & grass to restore the glory.

But we are only man & earth will never be tamed.

And that, my friend, is the dustbowl, a place I leave behind.

Never forget and learn a lesson, from this, an old mans’ story.

Kirsty ‘MadEye’ McIntosh

#Empty Words of God

Empty Words of God

You got do gooders soul righters to take you by the hand on the path of enlightenment,

Their enlightenment might be down there, but others stray from that path and take their own hands and walk proud focused uplifted by their decision.

Their decision to be free in humanity, a manatee has every right to live within humanity and be free, why isn’t everybody?

You, my friend, think that you are unencumbered from the burdens I lay upon your shoulders, for you found God and laid your burdens down.

You will sleep well, better than me no doubt, but for when I rise I will be refreshed ready eager to start a new day, finding new ways to help restore respect love & peace in the hearts of passersby.

You will awaken refreshed ready eager to wallow in the tranquility bestowed upon you by those who took the unenlightened path and lit yours for you.

By not participating wholly in humanities best interests focusing your attention on one self, has left a hole in your holy self.

By hearing only the words of God and not the words people, has deafened you and will soon leave you blind.

Kirsty ‘Mad Eye’ McIntosh

Ode To Ginsberg

Ode To Ginsberg

I sit and write because I think I am,


Intelligent  profound.

Craziness has an importance, and I’m not

Even that!

Normal ish,

leaning too much towards the normal side,

for me to make a difference,

Leave a print.

I need to not care and then create.

Be whatever persona they choose for me.

They like that kind of thing, the norms.

One of which, I am not.

Nor am I bohemian, cool, or part of the bourgeoisie.

I’m not clever enough to find the right words for this,

so I make them up and check later,

Knowing I will not check later but leave it,


It’s how I feel at the time, it’s my art,

It’s the way it is, just so.

So where, is this



I hear me cry,

I’m a liar

And nothing more.

Kirsty ‘Mad Eye’ McIntosh