Temple

If I found myself on the mountain
If I found myself inside or outside the temple
Would I be any closer to the soul of my self
Than I am in these fifteen minutes
Of sound supported meditation

If I listened to the high altitude winds
If I gazed out over the slowly rolling mists
Would I be any nearer to my own self-discovery
Than I am with the free-flowing thoughts
Of my early morning sitting

If I ventured once again to the abbey
If I entered into those foreboding religious quarters
Would I challenge myself any more
Than I do in the peacefulness
Of this room in my home

If I remained then and did not leave
If I opted instead for renegotiation
Would I stumble upon a more settled solution
Than I do on my own
Within my own self

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Many Things

There are so many things happening
Yet so little going on
There are so many tides turning
Yet so little sunshine splashes on the shore

There is so much to think about
Yet so little to influence
There is so much to confuse you
Yet even more to try to straighten you out

There are going to be changes
Weren't there always going to be changes
There are going to be things that stay the same
Weren't there always things which remained the same

There will be more understanding
And there will also be less understanding
There will no doubt be more confusion
There will hopefully be less delusion

There will be calming meditative music
There will also be lively energising music
There will be peace and love
There will also be anguish and love

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Motel

I tried to give it soul I asked if you recalled our previous visit calling in briefly for a family celebration I told myself and told myself again be alive here be alive and be here be here in the moment I felt the dim light the emptiness the long stretch of the windowless corridor with key-locked bedrooms to either side I imagined myself in an American movie where solitude and autobiography each play their own chilling part

It is more an isolator for you than the cleansing of the monastery there's less life here than in the five o'clock awakenings for Matins her for whom the bell tolls the bell tolls I hear myself ring those words around my eardrums there could be meditation also I have the diabetes tablets at hand indeed it feels as if I have a full life ahead of me at which point I take a break say to myself in an hour or so I must be leaving time does move on

I read Edward Abbey's words of gopher snakes dancing serenading making love making eye contact I don't match him as a writer or even as a person I moan about a centrally heated hotel with cooked breakfast while he lived in the wilderness crawling on his belly to witness what he later might write about what he saw what he felt he was from the Thoreau tradition a man of doing and a man of detail I I make another coffee and take my free-prescription medicines

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Pen

The pen is new motel life isn't one I don't yet have the feel for the other has felt me all over felt with me felt for me felt me over many years one is straight lines and round barrels full of engineering more suited to sketching or drawing rather than writing the other is long dimly-lit corridors where solitude creeps by or is engraved on the key fob as it stands on the uniform drinks tray

The waking pain showed itself excruciatingly in the eardrum yet there was joy in the editing of my previous writings the memories of the night before will be forgotten the dreams of tomorrow they will be pressing ever onwards the half-repaired LED still flashes as the construction workers outside the window commence their working day

I am at a crossroads or at least I believe I no doubt soon will be my writing it seems is searching for a new direction I am losing what I most relied upon I don't see her or feel her anymore with that intensity which I feel I need to instead I take a new pen from the pocket in another motel bedroom I write these words for no one I go nowhere to find my inspiration

I pour water down the oil well and think of my foot pressed hard on the gasoline pedal

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Referendum (Inconsiderate Considerations)

The day that I began this piece of writing my country had voted to leave the European Union
I now notice that the foreign exchange plummeted stocks and shares took a ten per cent dive although the man from the Pocket Watch company said that they will soon bounce back and true to his word about the engraved watches (christening presents for my grandchildren) within the hour he had despatched the goods according to the email he sent

Kate and I were both in favour of remaining in the EU yet we live in a part of the country where almost three-quarters of those who voted chose to vote to Leave perhaps we should move to a Remain stronghold maybe to Scotland or Northern Ireland although already I understand the demand for Irish passports is growing strongly

Yet it's also like this you see for last night I set up the tables out in the Old Stables for our poetry and creative writing workshop I put the three old birdcages bought from a shop in Cleethorpes who had converted them into candle holders into the middle of the middle table
The writers arrived sat down and began a conversation then Kate joined us and immediately she proclaimed that she could not work with the candle distraction (candles not lit I ought to add) and she moved them without further ado

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