Tag Archives: awareness

Opening the Cage

Someone stirs Poet

imagining her a steamy soup made from river water

He only need stir and wait stir and wait

Boiling sends germs skyward

or so Someone has come to believe

Chains without locks unsteady his focus

but the jingling is comforting, a burden endured willingly for the prize

Red-winged blackbird alights in the hemlock’s shade

his song urging shuffling, then a reluctant stumble of a dance step

Oh distraction! Someone sways in reverie

disturbing the balance of malcontent

Poet escapes while Someone shakes a wooden spoon

that is not a spoon but a rattle with a song

Someone lifts a heavy head of grey anger

resisting the fragility of whispering clouds

Not yet has awareness opened wide enough

to notice Poet has taken the chains

Not yet Someone notices new lightness

Possibility in steps

Arriving Almost Ready

I tune to the sound of wings

Hummingbird suckling geranium in sunlight

I do not like this book I am reading

Grateful for content that distracts

I am sitting in an uncomfortable chair

Obscured by holly leaves

This morning augmented with sculpted sacred stand ins

I dreamed last night of returning

Red flannel shirt faded jeans brown laces ankle boots

I pushed my desk inside lines

Conformity or belonging

A woman’s forever home now inhabited by strangers

I saw old hazel eyes as we were children

Singing the same song

John Lee’s Boom Boom

Right melody wrong lyric

Inhale rhythm resist lure

I am sitting still looking

Metres from maybe inches

I plant these red ones for her

Favourites

She mapped a meticulous design

Imagination Manifest these shapes

I arrive as if for a benefit

She falls from a ladder

Over there where the concrete is so unforgiving

I yield no sadness yet water flows free from these eyes

Presence is

I begin to understand

Or succumb

Krishnamurti on education

A Christening

Watchful watching watcher

Frame

Photo tilts left

in the room of messy flowers

Light splashes shadows

these old silenced walls

Rest your head

for an evening

Lay it down, you wandering traveler

Everything yearned for lives

out of reach but still in sight

Boots on at dawn

Turning page, young seeker

Toss those maps over the ledge

Step one, you are ready

eyes bright with colour

Black and white was just a crack

drawing you in

Your beginning


Poisoned

img_5690I was standing just now outside

wind working hard to hinder or knock me off my held breath position

See I was hunched over legs open wide (human tripod in mind—

I lean toward organics) and nearly still still still enough at least

aiming my lens at this southern slip of currently naked tree trunk just right

exactly what I needed to cut what would in a few seconds be

a partial wink of perfect blinding sun leaking out from below a dirty

little trickster raincloud. I was there my right index already on the shutter so

light so close not even butterfly breath could have slipped through

Ready? Ready. Stop all thought no flow at all huh-uhhuhh do not blink or move

The moment the moment the slightest shift makes all the diff—

and then the poison! Politics. Other peoples’ stupidity. Madness baseless hate

Time wasters unwisers narcissism solipsism accuse-ism dumbism exclusionism

grimacism sneerism ignoramusism Imememine-ism foolism violencism

makenosenseatall-ism schism miserableism hatism destructism shitism…

It’s the twenty first century this modern mad dog barking muddled up plot

poisoning of the potential of the human mind

the threat to intelligence the rise of bad news fake news danger everywhere fear of

everyone run hide get a weapon buy another one shun shun news

fists of the vicious narrow vacant eyes looking in through windows prying trying

whatever means to pollute our innocent trusting souls with foul breath and

slippery slope arguments, with an utter inability

to comprehend the merits of respectful discourse, introspection, diplomacy,

consultation with others who know something of the subject in mind (any subject)

the advantage

of being kind, the concepts of considering consequences before shouting non sequitur

answers to question from mouths you can’t see because your monoism has rendered

you blind—poison seeps in so fast. It’s singular goal is to kill.

And it’s not the wind I’m wrestling anymore

It’s the great rumble of unstoppable nonsense

the roiling cacophony of fools fed on unfoods, ha ha sitcoms prophet for profit

slayers of evil undefined but true so true you better believe or hell hell

pretend leaders sleazy compromisers greedy petty world uglifiers

social media the news the mouths the heads half interested eyes the lips

The arses? Maybe. Sure. It’s the arses, too.

Do I have to love these? I guess I might. I do? (It’s not easy but hate begets

more hate and that’s nowhere to go for me not for you either whether you know it or

not, some things are just truths that’s the way it is so here we go, so)

I catch my sun ray. I am there. Imbalance is my cue.

I go inside wipe my nose

Camera down

I strike a deal. Squeeze poison from wound

Seems I’ll live.

Insert wisdom. Know when what where your balance hangs

mine is on the turntable

My mind is sacred

it’s not for sale for any price

Poison is dangerous. I saw the warning five hundred years ago it said

Don’t drink. Life is precious for everyone. Every one. Remember who you are

Remember what it is you cling to in this world is what and who you’re gonna be so:

I look for art in the raindrop on that flower next to the path

I see dancers in the roots of trees reaching out of limestone cliffs

I saw that sunset and it saw me

Now I’m singing and it goes like this (leave your hate in that old barrel

and you can come inside. I already forgive you for your lies)

Give a little bit

Give a little bit of your love to me

(Listen: Roger Hodgson 12 string shines here)

We’re still alive in the amazing light of our own stable making

Stay alert damn it. You and me, we’re worth saving.

we’re worth saving.

 

Poetry

I do not love you,

Poetry

I do not swim in your

Oceans

I do not dream of your

Embrace

I do not sing your praise

I do not long for your

Touch

I do not ponder your ethereal

Realities

I do not seek, beseech, or need you

I do not often think of you

I do not deep breathe you

I do not awaken from dreams aching and

Yearning

I do not call out your name

I do not expect your essence shining through mere

Words

I do not dance to your mad restless

Rhythms

But sometimes I recognize you there,

Beckoning 

purplewhite shapeshifter emerging from the rubble

Lightstepping

along the edges of the ordinary and the

Sublime.