Textual Context

I have a desire to write

As a way to satisfy

The needs, the wants

Of my mind, of my body

That is to release

Or to couple up

The passions, the persuasions

Of pasts, of presents, of futures

This morning I could write

The most mindful of words

With sorrow, with happiness

Shared by the protagonist

With sadness, or darkness

Pushed out

Beyond the periphery

Over the tracks of yesteryears

Any complication, or quarrel

Within my own interior

Would be planed, sanded, smoothed

Then offered by pen, to the paper

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Buffered Against

Ships pass in the afternoon

Swaying side to side

Drifting backwards, forwards

Rising, falling

With the wave, with the tide

With the squall of one towards the other

Sparkling waters sparkle

Towards the dock of the bay

I don’t know where I go to

I don’t know where you are

I don’t know that I know you

I don’t know how you came so far

It is with a heavy weight

Which I often begin the words

It is a weight

Which has been in my ownership

For a long long time

Almost since the words first began

Times pass; nights, days

Moving fast, or slow

Seeking inwards, also outwards

Prising, peeling

With the shadow, with the light

With the fear of one towards the other

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Idealisms

The sky is simmering sky-blue

The sea is shimmering emerald-green

The waistlines are grotesque

Such is the march of humanity

Although, to the west side

Nudist bathing is positively encouraged

Yet, for myself

Speaking completely politically incorrectly

I would have them have a test to be passed

A sort of measure of human responsibility

For if you are not responsible for yourself

Who might we be able to ask you to care for

The port is a busy port

The berths are very wide, very long

Room for all of those who eat all you can for $5

Such is the intrusion of tourists

Though at the island’s extremities

Silent contemplation is actively made available

Yet, for myself

Speaking in line with one who does

I would make daily meditation mandatory

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Adapt, Adopt

Bikini - York Y Queso

Naranja o pomelo

Remember who you are

Sunglasses by Vans

Plan B Café Formentera

Remember who you were

Salt sea water - warm

Thrusts into fossil rock

Remember who you are

Ses Elletes Levant Beach

Remember who you were

Fresh fried anchovy 

Tuna, tomato, onions

Remember who you are

Estrella Port pavor

Yes, indeed, a large one

Remember who you were

Restaurante es Ministre

Playa de Iletas - Formentera

Remember who you are

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Then, Now, Then

Remember who you were

Remember who you are

Another olive falls to the floor

A few more leaves

Are blown across the tiles

Two small trees, of an unknown variety 

Sit in their pots

Remember who you were

Remember who you are

All of those places

Which you came from

All of those times

Where you arrive from

Remember who you are

Remember who you were

Another olive falls to the floor

A few more leaves

Are blown over the tiles

Two small trees, of an unknown variety

Sit in their pots

Remember who you are

Remember who you were

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Threshold

How quiet does one have to be

To reach that silent space

Or that place of boundless ego

Yet also to have been here

In the there, in the then

To sit in the spa yard

To follow the leaf with the eye

Thread thoughts

Of nothing going nowhere

Beside the still so so settled pool

Almost found, almost at one

How far does one have to go

To reach that place beyond

Or that place before

Yet also to be there

In the here, in the now

To walk on the peat moor

To squelch in the bog

Wipe the fast-falling snowflakes

From the worried brow

Watch the gushing stream

Almost lost, almost home

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Constructs

How might I

Rebuild this courtyard

In my own home

How may I

Recreate a sense of calm

In my own home

How might we

Build onto our home

To say, be here

How may we

Give space, give life

To our imaginations

How might you

Come, or go

Just as you please

How may you

Effect, affect

Such concrete solutions

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Life Balance

The olive

The tiny leaf

The large leaf

Their present life

Brought to an end

Detached from the food source

They will without doubt decay

Maybe to be turned into compost

Or become lost in the landfill

As may these few words

Which I, yes, maybe only I

Choose to call a poem

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Sense

I touch the olive to the leaf

I smile

This day has hidden me from grief

I see his photograph on the book

He smiles

This day has opened up, to take a second look

I invoke an atmosphere almost mute

We smile

This day spa, has one neatly active water chute

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Hypnotic Hydrotherapy

100 beads of sweat

One olive, one leaf

On the manicured log

I hoped to belong

To belong

Is what I truly hoped for

To find a silence

A hoped for silence

In that song, where I belong

100 beads of sweat

Ten minutes, no more

From brow to bench

Brow of belonging

To bench of longing

Every bead just one more step

Steps

More steps to where I long

Steps, yet again, to help me belong

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Out Of Time

Longing

Longing for belonging

Belonging

In the longing for longing

Belonging

Belonging without longing

Longing

To hide away from belonging

Longing

Longing

Longing

Oh longing for belonging

Longing

Longing

Longing

Oh belonging with the longing

Longing to belong

Belonging to long

Oh belonging

Oh longing

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Ages Aged

There is a purple olive

As if there had been purple rain

There is a new branch on the tree

As if youth walks this way again

There is a twist to the trunk

As if the dancers twist their manes

There is a death sign to the floor

As if the old age leaves its stains

There are monks in robes

As if Matins is about to begin

Actually they are guests of the spa

Here to thermally detox their sin

The water falls as water falls

Towards the emptiness of Zen

The breeze dies as breezes die

Before the asking of why, or when

The corner of dry leaves lay quiet

Left alone to find their own peace

The sliding doors open silently

Yet to exit, is no certainty of release

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