Ego-poetry

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Flick

Blue mood, adrift
A cruise through shadow spells
Of heavy hues, mistaking
So many sole-less shoes
For my own lack of something

Pain is reaching out for friends
But I paint emptiness here
For fear I won’t be understood
A private figure behind a hood
Eyes closed and meditating
Hidden

Yet how can I raise grievance
With those for whom I grieve?
Though even in these depths I see
the wood for all the trees
the pattern in the weave
an ego that deceives
whilst trembling

I need not lament,
for them or for this self,
All is simply as it is
And from this I can draw health.
So flow the teachings
Blow by sacred blow outreaching
Asking if we’re seeking something worthy
of this life

Unsteady ground shaking my shit
up and down shedding pound
after pound of peace
of me.
Until I stop and see
one single moment as it is
Squeaking gates galore
I am here and choosing
to live less or to live more

Least is only this
Most is all of this
Therein lies the twist
The flick is in my wrist

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by

Sage

Our bodies are but light
and sound ever inter-mingling
with the Other, full colour

I drink sage tea from the garden

Pardon my declination to partake
of the slaking thirst for distraction you stake
as merely means to pass-the-time, TV

Floral glimmer and earthshine simmering
from soil to clear glass
And this heart of old gold and mystic mould
truth be told, it beats

I sit and sip and turn the challenge
ever inward-outward, manage
to see i need heal nothing
for fear that from me they’ll steal
something dear
and oh-so-real

I live the way i live and see
each moment my suspension
in the ocean of maybe-truth.
Lessons here, lessons there
Outreaching hand of Dharma fair
and weathered,
Weathered fair

Ever-posing question –
Do you claim this?
Do you dare?
Ever underneath only Love
to stand and stare
Stare it will
ever onward
ever glowing
ever…just there

–  B E L I E V E  –  B E H O L D  –  B E  H E L D  –

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Heartspace

Leaving
These spaces feel empty again
And in spaces fly echoes of loss
Of love

Perhaps of my spaces such things can be said
When the earth of my years lifts
What had buried them dead
Or undead and buried
Unheard, though they’d cried
Screaming a life that a fear them denied

Or is it now I’m aware
In a moment that’s passing
Of just what sparks fly
And the colour of light?
Maybe now I can live and
Maybe
Now I can write

Yes, love was inside this space always
And in these daily tests I can grow to love Love
Allowance is all: love more, and more open
With a heart once broken and unlearned in life

But now
How it beats
How it lives
How it loves

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Kettle

2-minute nothing while kettle boils
Mind has been at lengthy toil
Drawn and dragged by thoughts that foil
Every approach to Now.
And yet the practice lies therein
To look at thought without lose or win
Enquire as to just what is this kin
Of Mind and Heart?

Something lies beneath
Something to be held and known
Loved and honed
Grown
To be what it ever was.

So thought and mind will drag and tow
Such are things we don’t yet know
But questions must be lived
That answers one day come to show
Bright and clear as if always there
Lying in wait
For readiness

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Mentira

(‘mentira’ – lie)

Never again will I live for fear
To consume my honest words
Based on sands expecting
Shifting

Liberate me with truth, my other!
My truth you will not condemn
My lies I know you will

For my truth you will judge only as I do
And my lies only as I would
We agree?

So just as trust lies only in mind’s eye
There it must lay itself still

I must trust
With all that I am
In all that I may be
And by the momentary principle unbending
I live
I speak
The truth

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The Friend

Where is The Friend, when my friends surround me?
It can seem he flees my side.
Though perhaps it is I, with blinkered eyes
Who denies Him right attention
My heart tires against assuming mind
So stung by wash of fate
So drawn up in chalk-lines on the social slate
Black and white dust in forlorn debate.

Why the overwhelm?
I wonder often, if it’s for me
This realm

Though it is me
This space
This place
This situational trial.
Where is there to run, after all?
Many places
But none are home

Here is home
And each new moment
A lesson to be learnt.

Stop and see
And taste what’s sour
Know the dirt that births the flower
There is The Friend
In every friend
Diffused
But not departed

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Mindflood

DSC_9164

Mindful moments move in flood
Where am I?
Under a rainbow sky

Looking east at sunset
Watching where the light falls
Holy, wholly
The arc of your iris

Nothing is bliss
For bliss can bend
A nothing
Into everything
And all, in all
Vibrates

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Islands

I now write cryptic for want, thirst
Or direction in a wasteland of thought
Busy-ness has stalled me
Or I stall myself

Or maybe life creeps up like a lover to sleeping other
Kisses closed eyes and eases sleep;
Pleases dreams and silences weeping
Benevolent hand, creeping, creeping

Or maybe my islands lie in wider oceans
Now smaller notions we pass at night
Salutations to mind and soul
At minimum, just by chance

Chance and circumstance they say,
Winds blow weak or strong by day
And we float, accordingly, further away
From those on which we once stepped foot

For now our feet have worn that land
And know its stony touch
Know its twists and know its turns
And in walking, don’t think much
Have thought much
Felt much
Drawn much from this terrain

New lands lie ahead.
Float on.

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Arcoiris

(‘Arcoiris’ – rainbow)

I have seen skies in the arc of my iris
And walked as pure gold slants through the trees
I have stopped in a moment to stay for a lifetime
And only my focus fails me

I have tumbled, mumbled
As wind blown on a chainlink fence
Free
And with nothing to hold
But dreams
That fade from hazy beginnings
Into a dreamy past

Sometimes the jungle gets me down
Or simply catches me out
On a limb
Grey rain falls on green flesh
And solace enters indoors
To brood

Where are the revelations now?
So dry is the tongue that spoke them
So cold the heart
We once thought they warmed
A body dead to light and darkness
Eyes that barely see

Who comes here and takes my moment?
And how may it be so…easily had?
What is moving in this soul, so sharp?

I sought a space to meditate
And slept
I sought my smiling heart
But wept
What will this torturous mind give me next?

Although how could I dream?
Had my life not this depth…