Letter from Suzie in Colorado

Dear Thich

I have to write, to say thanks to you, for it was your inspiration that had me walking around the room guided by Bodhipaksa; to feel every part of my body, from the heels and soles of my feet to the top of my eyelids and beyond. I walked bare-foot, I walked further than I have walked in a long time.

I woke in the night, my lower legs were undergoing dynamic interior motion, I have never taken speed but my legs were agitated in such a way that I thought only possible by a strong drug involvement.

I am on a low carb diet, I was eating bacon while I watched your Monastic gathering on line. I would like to join you at Plum Village, perhaps you can introduce me to the monk who goes fly fishing, also to the monk who is a fan of playing cricket, and of course to your beautiful assistant, the one with the soft voice, and the tie-dyed sarong.

Available on Kindle

First Findings

I had the time, and for once I followed the trail of the email advertisement; I paid my thirty one pounds sterling.

One hour later, inspired by what I had found, I found myself doing a walking meditation in my little room at Avista B&B, as I walked (guided by Bodhipaksa) I could see the sunlight out of the French doors.

At the end of the walking I stood still; I felt myself standing, how good was that.

I then shot a short video, of the sunlight streaming through the trees, the blue sky was being invaded by black clouds, the breeze was becoming a wind, a storm was on its way, it appears then that the continuum thus continues.

Available on Kindle

Clean & Sparkling

What happens to make love happen
Who chose to put love
Into the throes of dreams

Batten down the saddened hearts
Close off the intimating strangulations
Fragments of the o so true

I was working
In the financial services industry

When I say I was working
Well I was on trial
I hadn't yet got the company car
Or the all expenses paid credit card

I was a salesman
Paid purely on commission
But I was good at it
At least I would be
Once I made my first sale

I was shopping
For a razor and shaving foam
I went up and down the stairs
I bumped into an old work colleague
I didn't care for him then
And neither do I now
He handed me the cream

I was sat at the top of a very long escalator
It was outside, probably in London
I had come up with this idea
That people would be far better off

Not knowing how much they were saving
Not knowing how much money they had
All I had to do was to convince people
To buy into my plan

I woke with such a start
As my mobile alarm-buzzer sounded

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Composed Whilst Driving II

Poems without hope
Dreams without end
He wears his duty
Upon his sunny sleeve
A sure-born entertainer
She smiles, as others grieve
There it is...

How easy to be mournful
To pour scorn
Rather than to find beauty
To walk to the crease
Feeling ever less hopeful
Ravaged by the needs of duty
There it goes...

Look out on the trees
The windmills slowly turning
Sat in the queue
No one looks, no one is learning
All is straight ahead
No one gives, all are for earning
There it is, there it goes...

Available on Kindle

Contour & Contrast

You too are complicit
With the uneven answers
Wedged as you are
Heading to the precipice

Then to fall back on beauty
Hard snows, black rocks
Winds across the old moors
Warm sun, blue skies
Breezes over the salt marsh

Even in the lonely hour, with
Only the mind and the pen
Ever then the happiness
The calm of confusion
Reaching for the stars

To still believe in love
Good news, white light
Letters in the boxes
Expansive, with clear hope
As ink flows from the fountains

Available on Kindle