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
Thursday 26 July 2018
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
Tuesday 24 July 2018
Objective One
Hollow out the history
Revert to the core
The kernel, the nucleus
Before corruption
Moved in, and took hold
Take it right back
To the one, and the other one
Or to the one all alone
Alone then to contemplate
To speak, or to scribe
That is to have the one thought
Or the one thought with one other
As if the weighing scales might balance
Or tip heavily
Towards the one most wordy
Yes, take yourself right back
Prior to any contamination
Such that innocence was abroad
For one thought to follow one other
With no predetermined forces in play
That is to have a clear thought
A clean thought
A thought not tainted by baggage
That baggage of your past, or your future
That baggage of your desire, or your lust
Just stay with the whiff of perfume
With ample room for estrangement
Clear of the danger which arises
With the crisis of those thoughts
Hollowed out from the core
Revert to the core
The kernel, the nucleus
Before corruption
Moved in, and took hold
Take it right back
To the one, and the other one
Or to the one all alone
Alone then to contemplate
To speak, or to scribe
That is to have the one thought
Or the one thought with one other
As if the weighing scales might balance
Or tip heavily
Towards the one most wordy
Yes, take yourself right back
Prior to any contamination
Such that innocence was abroad
For one thought to follow one other
With no predetermined forces in play
That is to have a clear thought
A clean thought
A thought not tainted by baggage
That baggage of your past, or your future
That baggage of your desire, or your lust
Just stay with the whiff of perfume
With ample room for estrangement
Clear of the danger which arises
With the crisis of those thoughts
Hollowed out from the core
Monday 23 July 2018
Invisible, Indivisible
Where is the calm
Where are the spaces
Along the lines
Where are the mines
Where are the faces
Committing the crimes
Where are the signs
For the calming traces
Charmed by indefinite designs
Where are the spaces
Along the lines
Where are the mines
Where are the faces
Committing the crimes
Where are the signs
For the calming traces
Charmed by indefinite designs
Sunday 22 July 2018
Determined, Or Not
A long view
From a long time ago
So long that you would not believe
The road would still be blocked by snow
A longer view
From a longer time ago
So long that you would not believe
The workmen’s bus made it through the snow
From a long time ago
So long that you would not believe
The road would still be blocked by snow
A longer view
From a longer time ago
So long that you would not believe
The workmen’s bus made it through the snow
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)