What should I say
In recompense
For I feel
That an apology
Is in order
If only
To calm, or settle
My own persona
Before I might
Set about
The writing of the day
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
What should I say
In recompense
For I feel
That an apology
Is in order
If only
To calm, or settle
My own persona
Before I might
Set about
The writing of the day
Tiffany lamps in the windows
Linen fragrance in the diffusers
Skin and bone in the trousers
Where might my mind be going
What is to be the contemplation
Now the mood is set and the music plays
I honestly don’t have any explanation
I don’t know if I ever do have
So, one step at a time, I keep going
The search is not for direction
Although a tune or two would be good
Some sort of guidance for the writing
If instead left to struggle
Working without a working light
Working out without working
I honestly can’t say
In truth I never was told
I take myself off
It is a pleasure of mine
Sometimes, when reading
A place will come to mind
And in a flash I am there
Breathing in the beauty
Not always is the place a place
Sometimes a person, with a perfume
Earlier, while reading Trying Not To Try
I flashed back to Madhyamaka
A Buddhist institution
A favourite of many visits
But tomorrow, yes
Where might tomorrow take me
Turning things over
Over time I turn things
Before I let them settle
Scared by the dream I had
Booking into an hotel
Wearing only a towel
After being refused at a B&B
Fearful of being left
To fend for myself
Rocking at the thought
Of such hopeless exposure
I would travel
Half-way
Around the world
To then travel
That whole half-way
Back again
I would listen
To Peter Gabriel
Over
And over again
One day
I might find a rhythm