I am listening to the cricket
The World Cup is on BBC Radio
It is one of my shelters
For this ever improving summer
Today’s game has turned
Into a dead rubber
A phrase I rather care for
As it sort of goes with the flow
I look out of the windows
To watch the breeze
Bring a sway
To the tops of trees and hedges
This then is what I call being steady
Not ready to do anything
Other than to sit and stare
Without a thought or care
There goes another wicket
Accompanied by dancing in the aisles
I am reminded that is why England
Needed to win their last two games
They say that cricket is a bit more civilised
Well why wouldn’t it be, as it is played
During continuously improving summers
On manicured squares of grass so green
Monday, 24 February 2020
Sunday, 23 February 2020
To the one side is the builder
To the one side is the builder
To the other the gardener mows the grass
From the concrete mixer to the trowel
To the beads of sweat upon the brow
He talks of white painted walls and fences
She buys more plants for the planting tubs
The garden pond is still leaking
A penetration to the sunken membrane
The studio could have a window
If only he had the necessary skills
The far garden could have a building
But how many places are needed to sit or write
All in all we are all on a search for shelter
Both for the creation and for the living
So a garden becomes a place for dreaming
For leaning on our own adventures
One by one the list is encouraged
Day by day another idea or ideas
Never then to truly settle
Not ever to become set solidly still
Instead a canvas for fabrication
An easel to describe the wheelbarrows
Of toil, trouble and dissatisfaction
Before the lights are allowed to shine
Not ever then to say never
Or to think the fence would be good in grey
Always to find a shelter for the sitting
As one wanders through night and day
To the other the gardener mows the grass
From the concrete mixer to the trowel
To the beads of sweat upon the brow
He talks of white painted walls and fences
She buys more plants for the planting tubs
The garden pond is still leaking
A penetration to the sunken membrane
The studio could have a window
If only he had the necessary skills
The far garden could have a building
But how many places are needed to sit or write
All in all we are all on a search for shelter
Both for the creation and for the living
So a garden becomes a place for dreaming
For leaning on our own adventures
One by one the list is encouraged
Day by day another idea or ideas
Never then to truly settle
Not ever to become set solidly still
Instead a canvas for fabrication
An easel to describe the wheelbarrows
Of toil, trouble and dissatisfaction
Before the lights are allowed to shine
Not ever then to say never
Or to think the fence would be good in grey
Always to find a shelter for the sitting
As one wanders through night and day
Saturday, 22 February 2020
Symmetry satisfies us
Symmetry satisfies us
And coheres for our need for meaning
and shelter in the world.
John O’Donohue:
Divine Beauty - The Invisible Embrace
This is today’s Monday morning shelter
Where I will either write or transcribe
Then taste bacon, on brioche rolls for hot dogs
Read out something which I have worked on
Then listen to others read out
The pieces which they have worked on
It won’t be all peace and calm
There may be disagreements
To counterbalance the joviality
I will be encouraged, even motivated
To build in more effect or innovation
To make more of my poetry
Than the poetry it once was
Of course sentimentality will hold sway
For we all do like to hear our own stories
But no memoir work from me today
Although I have found the once lost book
Misplaced as it was recently
During my trip to the monastery
With some shot at unification
I will keep things moving along
Preventing any fall
Into obsessive dialogue
Or worse into meaningless diatribe
Which satisfies no one at all
Better then to pour out the creativity
Create an ambiance to the work
Develop constructive interaction
With a sound ear for the especial
Which does dwell within everyone
Seeking, for its own sake, a safe outlet valve
And coheres for our need for meaning
and shelter in the world.
John O’Donohue:
Divine Beauty - The Invisible Embrace
This is today’s Monday morning shelter
Where I will either write or transcribe
Then taste bacon, on brioche rolls for hot dogs
Read out something which I have worked on
Then listen to others read out
The pieces which they have worked on
It won’t be all peace and calm
There may be disagreements
To counterbalance the joviality
I will be encouraged, even motivated
To build in more effect or innovation
To make more of my poetry
Than the poetry it once was
Of course sentimentality will hold sway
For we all do like to hear our own stories
But no memoir work from me today
Although I have found the once lost book
Misplaced as it was recently
During my trip to the monastery
With some shot at unification
I will keep things moving along
Preventing any fall
Into obsessive dialogue
Or worse into meaningless diatribe
Which satisfies no one at all
Better then to pour out the creativity
Create an ambiance to the work
Develop constructive interaction
With a sound ear for the especial
Which does dwell within everyone
Seeking, for its own sake, a safe outlet valve
Friday, 21 February 2020
John O’Donohue Speaks:
John O’Donohue Speaks:
Divine Beauty - The Invisible Embrace
The traditional structures of shelter are shaking,
their foundations revealed to be no longer stone but sand.
One more fire grate
One full set of clay formed sculptures
One bottle of garden flowers
One more memory from the rose
One M is for Mayhem
One bowl of daisies white and yellow
One trip out to the Tarot reading
One more memory from the rose
One perfect chair for the writing
One assembly
Of temporary pop-up tables
One more memory from the rose
One tablecloth topped off
With seasonal preserves
One bookstall filled by avid readers
One more memory from the rose
One sun up high in the blue sky
One meadow for white clouds to hover over
One fly inspecting the introverted writer
One more memory from the rose
One conversation about the use of buildings
One deposition by the Ukulele Band of Louth
One buying of the plants and climbers
One more memory from the rose
One time to be in the simple time
One stroll from here to there and back again
One breeze through the trees and grasses
One more memory from the rose
One embrace among the many
One more need to say a slow goodbye
One more thanks for ever being
One more memory from the rose
Divine Beauty - The Invisible Embrace
The traditional structures of shelter are shaking,
their foundations revealed to be no longer stone but sand.
One more fire grate
One full set of clay formed sculptures
One bottle of garden flowers
One more memory from the rose
One M is for Mayhem
One bowl of daisies white and yellow
One trip out to the Tarot reading
One more memory from the rose
One perfect chair for the writing
One assembly
Of temporary pop-up tables
One more memory from the rose
One tablecloth topped off
With seasonal preserves
One bookstall filled by avid readers
One more memory from the rose
One sun up high in the blue sky
One meadow for white clouds to hover over
One fly inspecting the introverted writer
One more memory from the rose
One conversation about the use of buildings
One deposition by the Ukulele Band of Louth
One buying of the plants and climbers
One more memory from the rose
One time to be in the simple time
One stroll from here to there and back again
One breeze through the trees and grasses
One more memory from the rose
One embrace among the many
One more need to say a slow goodbye
One more thanks for ever being
One more memory from the rose
Thursday, 20 February 2020
In my rightful righteous spot
In my rightful righteous spot
At the end of willow way
Where the Alpaca walks by
To stretch its legs
In that time, from the morning a while ago
To this time, in the here and now
The willows have grown considerably
Although I knew it in that previous moment
Today’s representation, or incarnation
Or maybe even manifestation
Would be a better word; no matter
For I know this to be a shelter
In much the same way
In which it makes me think
Of the mediation seating
In our own tended garden
Will it ever be joined over the top
Someone asks
As though always
We have the need to raise questions
I hadn’t thought on that
But of course, because
Once the seed is planted
I have no choice but to look at the sky
And wonder
How it would feel
To become enclosed
For my words to be hemmed in
At the end of willow way
Where the Alpaca walks by
To stretch its legs
In that time, from the morning a while ago
To this time, in the here and now
The willows have grown considerably
Although I knew it in that previous moment
Today’s representation, or incarnation
Or maybe even manifestation
Would be a better word; no matter
For I know this to be a shelter
In much the same way
In which it makes me think
Of the mediation seating
In our own tended garden
Will it ever be joined over the top
Someone asks
As though always
We have the need to raise questions
I hadn’t thought on that
But of course, because
Once the seed is planted
I have no choice but to look at the sky
And wonder
How it would feel
To become enclosed
For my words to be hemmed in
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