Bridge Talk

Might I find a Buddha nature

In the chaos is there calm

Might I grind a simple taster

In the noise perhaps to find a soothing balm

All the winds then to believe

Surging down through the trees

With the bending and the bowing

Is the truth of it a dangerous breed

That the bright light on the fence line

Is a totem from above

Gifted by the grey-going-to-black clouds

On what mirage is that word called love

It never went beyond the superficial

It did not cling to your deep inside

The purpose was the purpose only

To provide escape, to stage the stride

So, just as before or after midnight

With the light of half-offered hope

Step by step, both were taken

To the well, there to carefully elope

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Guided Being

Where, why

Would I look for you

Why, where might

I search you out

How

On this night of meditation

Can I seek

To find the doubt

If I look into the books

If I read between the lines

All that love for the writer

Secretly to reveal the signs

That I can hear the seagulls

That I can see the cloud swirls

In the sky, in the sky, in the sky

It is me, I am me, all is fine

What I do is to go on looking

Every day, near or far

Listening out, for the whispers

With the doors so so slight ajar

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Ibis Styles

I have booked the hotel

I am taking a two-day break

To prepare this work

For the Arvon poetry-collection course

I did have a doubt

I wondered if my Working Type

Could become a poem novel or a novel poem

I do care for how it reads

Yet without the Arvon motivation

How would 2004 survive

We didn’t survive

So why should a slim volume of poems

To talk of joy

As in that last piece

Seems pretty wide of the mark

Yet, here in the present

With a different room

For me to look forwards to

That always inviting space

Which is YSP

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Joie De Vivre

I can say

That these words bring me joy

They make me

Feel good about myself

I could say more

But that might

Give the game away

I don’t want to do that

I don’t want to reveal all

For these are personal words

Their disclosure

May cause embarrassment

Or pain

Almost for sure

There would be no joy now

Though absolutely no chance

Of these words being reflected

Not in the same solitary room context

As happened back in the day

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Weighing In

Not always

The sunlight

Dancing on the waves

Not always

The butterfly

On the drift of the breeze

But today

Although not starting well

Is picking up

I have this place to sit

I have this window to look out of

I have this pen with which to write

Not always

The hurt

Dips into the void

Not always

The cruelty

Is left alone

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