I too stole pears
As you say Augustine did
I too was a thief after dark
In the western tradition
That I say this gives me pleasure
For the memories are the truth
They are the power and the glory
To make me as I am, from my youth
With means to fill the whole page
With other ignominious deeds
Also, to mention the monastics
Here, by the river, here, beside the reeds
I too stole life
Has many more had before me
I too was a thief in the park
In the northern tradition
That I say this gives me witness
For the memories are the truth
They are the hope in my truth
To make me, make me as I already am
Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
Sunday, 29 July 2018
Saturday, 28 July 2018
First One Here, Only One Here
There is a stillness
A peace, a quiet, a calm
A future to invest in
An opportunity
Not to take the world by storm
But, but to peacefully be there
Where there is light
Where there is shadow
Where last night is now gone
Where there are bare branches
Where there is rooftop moss
Where none of that displeases
There was a morning letter
Or rather morning words written
Written, what could be better
Than to celebrate the page
Age not being such a bad thing
With a wholeness to the ring
Sing then; there is a stillness
A peace, a quiet, a calm
So bring on the future to invest in
A peace, a quiet, a calm
A future to invest in
An opportunity
Not to take the world by storm
But, but to peacefully be there
Where there is light
Where there is shadow
Where last night is now gone
Where there are bare branches
Where there is rooftop moss
Where none of that displeases
There was a morning letter
Or rather morning words written
Written, what could be better
Than to celebrate the page
Age not being such a bad thing
With a wholeness to the ring
Sing then; there is a stillness
A peace, a quiet, a calm
So bring on the future to invest in
Friday, 27 July 2018
Blue, Big Blue
The seventh wave roars in
As the first wave hobbles out
The huge crash
Breaks onto the impenetrable rock
The rising, and falling spray does it
And does it again the whole of the day
Water charging into stone
Stone standing solid, resolute
Beneath the surface, out in the deep
Shoals and predators
Dolphins, whales and sharks
All the known colours of the world
With the music of communication
All the stillness of the depths of solitude
With the deft touch of survival
Among the beautified breadths of love
As the first wave hobbles out
The huge crash
Breaks onto the impenetrable rock
The rising, and falling spray does it
And does it again the whole of the day
Water charging into stone
Stone standing solid, resolute
Beneath the surface, out in the deep
Shoals and predators
Dolphins, whales and sharks
All the known colours of the world
With the music of communication
All the stillness of the depths of solitude
With the deft touch of survival
Among the beautified breadths of love
Thursday, 26 July 2018
Drift, As In Wave
Only fragments now
No more to write of the papyrus
Or of those poets in the valley below
Only apathetic now
No more to be plagued by passions
Nor to wait for early morning letters
Only lost for words now
Yet not lost for those past words
Which passed by without reflection
Only time for oneself now
Yet not with time at the crucial moment
When attachment needs to be released
Only insecurity of security now
Uncertainty being the partner of trust
When doubters take over the asylum
Then to fall back on exaggeration
Amplification of what is and isn’t true
As a means of saying nothing at all
No more to write of the papyrus
Or of those poets in the valley below
Only apathetic now
No more to be plagued by passions
Nor to wait for early morning letters
Only lost for words now
Yet not lost for those past words
Which passed by without reflection
Only time for oneself now
Yet not with time at the crucial moment
When attachment needs to be released
Only insecurity of security now
Uncertainty being the partner of trust
When doubters take over the asylum
Then to fall back on exaggeration
Amplification of what is and isn’t true
As a means of saying nothing at all
Wednesday, 25 July 2018
Objective
In this way
Of drawing endless small circles
I find a peace, a calm
As one might come across
With a walking meditation
Or by reciting a poem
Poetry of paths and journeys
Poetry of skies and streams
Poetry of love, yes, poetry of deep love
In this way
You might discover yourself
To be in a new place
Filled with optimism
Tranquillity, and intensity
Of being in the moment
Where another verse
Of hope may wander along
To take you by the hand
And once together
You and your one other
May venture at your leisure
Of drawing endless small circles
I find a peace, a calm
As one might come across
With a walking meditation
Or by reciting a poem
Poetry of paths and journeys
Poetry of skies and streams
Poetry of love, yes, poetry of deep love
In this way
You might discover yourself
To be in a new place
Filled with optimism
Tranquillity, and intensity
Of being in the moment
Where another verse
Of hope may wander along
To take you by the hand
And once together
You and your one other
May venture at your leisure
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