Facebook/Life. Facebook Life.

Being your friend makes me special.

Hey everyone look how special I am.

Now I have a thousand friends so I must be even more special!

Hey everyone, look how extra special I am!

I got so many likes I must be right.

I only got three likes. My thought/idea/post/self must be rubbish.

Please do not disagree with my world view.

If you do you are some kind of idiot, megalomaniac and/or troll who should be ignored or banned from my page.

Oh. I do not agree with you therefore I am free to insult you. A lot.

Repeatedly.

Oh and now you are standing up for yourself so I must attack you in different ways, personally insult and remind you of past transgressions.

This is all online and in the name of free speech so I can say what the hell I like with no thought of the impact or consequences for they are all virtual.

I am just giving my opinion.

Oh. I may have said something wrong but of course I can justify it!

It's easy, I'll blame you and make out it's your fault.

Yes you. You're the one with the problem who can't take a joke.

And if I put a smiley face everyone will know I'm nice really.

Last Day

I love to watch the day
Evolve gently into night;
To see the final fires
As Earth slowly turns her face
From sun to moon.
Somewhere else it is dawn.
But here, orange brilliance flares,
Mingling effortlessly with inviting blues,
The paintbrush stroke of purple clouds,
The black of winter trees.
We can lament too soon too soon
This beauty passes,
Or rejoice as does the sky
On meeting stars:
Not shy of its promise to return with
Dawning gold,
It shines its full, glorious majesty,
Inspiring a world.

More Than Our Eyes

I need go nowhere to explore the universe.
It is right here in every cell,
Every atom,
Each one able to create new worlds
Or destroy a billion.
To turn inside
Is to discover and discover and discover.
This thought tightens my lips,
That thought twists my belly,
And this thought lets me breathe,
Opens my eyes,
Reminds me the sun still shines behind the clouds,
Let's me fall madly in love with rain -
The rain which keeps me under the duvet,
Looking out, looking in;
Bliss and sorrow rolling over and over,
Both as poignant and meaningless as each other.
Life unfolds and dies, unfolds and is born
In every moment, choice, reflection and understanding,
When we see with more than our eyes.

November Skies

Clouds shape a body of rain
Which mindless winds push on and on.
Swollen and growing, blown and falling,
Here and gone, they are here and gone,
Yet endless in their supply.
 
The man is afraid of a storm which ne'er comes,
Lives under cold grey cotton wool,
A head of hurts and hurricanes.
Can never quite manage his full potential
Yet endlessly he will try.
 
The woman she weaves a quilt of tears,
Lost in the losses now past.
No one can quite match her insights or love,
Her dreams and hopes ruined too fast,
So endlessly she will cry.
 
Nothing just sits with no judgement, observing,
While Something takes life for a ride.
We learn, we hope not to late, life is love,
And from it we choose whether to hide,
As endless, we're born and we die.

The Marathon

I only signed up for a 5k.

At the starting line she told me it was 10 -

I wondered how I'd manage.

"Just go at your own pace: gently"

I heard myself think.

It became clear soon after that this was

A marathon.

People lined the path, cheering,

Encouraging us on in the strange dark light.

I had no shoes

But knew I couldn't go back for them.

I felt my feet on the solid ground -

They were soft and light.

People came and went:

I started with her,

He came for a short time,

Then there was you.

You showed me a different direction,

Away from the runners' path.

We climbed on ropes and pulleys;

I lifted myself ten feet in the air,

My soles and toes supporting me,

My hands doing what was needed.

I watched my body working

While I discovered and noticed.

It was a perpetual state of change and not knowing

And this never altered.

The Unbearable Gift

We pass unbearableness around like a football in a never-ending game;

Like the pair of socks no-one wanted for seven Christmases;

Like the filing tray full of things that no-one knows where to put.

Then the right words in the right moment and oh, God! My heavy bones are filled with it;

There is nowhere for it to be but here, now; in my chest;

Yet even while I gasp for air within its restriction, I see it is a gift,

And I hate the part of me which knows that;

Hate my expansive heart

For allowing me to feel this unbearable gift

Without self-pity;

For always bringing me back to

Love -
If I can receive it.

Gone (or There's nothing kind about Grief)

The loneliness seeps in.

Beginning as a mosquito bite -

An irritation to be brushed aside -

Then fledging into an infected

Sore: a chest burning,

Belly bloating, leg leadening

Weeping wound

That steals breath and

Hope alike.

Days are a daze

And minutes are minefields;

The wrong one sneaking up

To cut your legs away.

We are; We are not

We are suns:
Centres of our own universe
With other little worlds
Orbiting our radiance.

We are planets and moons,
Travelling,
Pulled by the gravity
Of a star too dense to resist.

We are trees:
Birds nest in our branches,
We bear fruit,
Live long, rooted lives.

We are drops in an ocean,
Sometimes riding high
On the crest of a wave,
Sometimes sinking into unmapped depths.

We are fleas
On an overpopulated dog,
Clinging on in spite of scratches and sprays,
Believing we have built the world.

We are God:
All is nothing,
And we are nothing something nothing;
One with all that never was.

The Long Goodbye

A deep sigh.
Tears escape through my breath.
I am slow,
Soft and sad.
Everything is changing
As it always does:
Another round of letting go,
Another new chapter.
Nothing is left -
All remains.
Knots undo themselves
Unwinding unwinding....
I long to feel
Fulfilling growing
But lose the emptiness instead.
I ache to be alone
And cannot bear it.

The Other Side Of The Storm

The thick smell of an oncoming storm fills my nostrils.

I feel it's heaviness and am consumed in its darkness

Like my mother's old name.

I make a wish I do not believe in.

My feet are stuck in deep mud

As if the rains had already come.

I danced with lightening many times and though it

Caught me with glancing blows over and over

I did not stop

And sometimes still it 

Draws me in with its thrilling flashes

Of brilliance till I succumb.

A false eye of peace sits in the centre

Telling me all is well and for my highest good.

I still smell the other side of the storm.

Love Knows.....

Each time I am lost

I come home.

With every moment I spend away

From what I know to be true,

I am a moment closer to

Truth.

Not knowing is the simplest thing there is

In this world of thoughtful complexity.

I am myself

When I allow my Self to be.

I need do nothing

You speak.

You expect a response.

And I thought I had to give one.

Instead I do nothing.

Waves of peace lap at my toes,

Spreading their cool relief through me.

I need do nothing.

A mind's worth of fears

Of dark consequences

Stipple their way across my eyes.

Still, I do nothing.

No search can unearth

The treasured pleasure of knowing

I need do nothing.

Mysteries

Ungraspable.
Indescribable.

The cliched enigma your hand moves through
Like smoke or a rainbow.

The nighttime peripheral vision of
Something.....
Or is it nothing?

We are all mysteries.

The more a mystery unfolds,
The more it deepens.

Breaking is not the same as Breaking Open

People run at me with pritstick,

Superglue, band aids and a soft

'There there'

While I stare at them,

Wondering.

Yes, I know, the

Stillness

Unnerves you.

Yes, I know you see

Wrongness

In this grief.

but I unravel all the same.

I turn and turn,

Undoing and undoing and undoing…..

I cannot stop undoing.

I gaze at the world

And I know nothing.

Funny Ol' Flat Face

I cannot wear a dog nose
On my funny ol' flat face - 
It looks awfully silly
And totally out of place.

Why can't I have some other face shape?
One that's much less round?
For every time I've thought that,
I wish I had a pound!

But logic tells us one thing for sure,
So listen if you please:
If I have a face that's shaped like the moon,
Then I must be made of cheese!

Nothing

I have no words......
Nothing;
Nothing;
Not.......

How can I write
When I know
Nothing

And how can I be
Known?

Yet here is another
Telling me in words
My own experience
Without my saying it.

So I suppose......
Love knows.

The Edge of the World

Exploring ants forage a living
In their concrete poolside world.
There and back in a single day
Takes them to a finite edge:
An edge they never question.

Birds do not only sing in captivity;
They create on the wing. High above,
The owl sees one in a million ants
Take a chance, suddenly inspired,
To fall off the edge of the world.

She's no Friday's Child you know

The Bard is so delicious,
And munchkins so nutritious,
I think it's most auspicious
That we should meet today.

You really must excuse me,
I continually use thee
To make sure I do not lose me
On such a rainy day.

You really are a dear, dear,
For one consumed by fear here,
When there's not a single peer near
To guide you on your way.

Don't squeeze me with your mangle,
I won't dilly now or dangle,
I'm not too new fangle
No! For the way we play.

Kissing David Bowie

An exploration of soul

With its life map,

Its musical key.

All is soft:

Our hearts and vision,

Our hands and voices;

Lips that long without possession,

Only a beat, a joint rhythm:

"How luc-ky am I"

"How luc-ky am I".

There is no mountain,

No test of endurance:

Our belief, relief and humour are the same.

We are beginners,

Walking arm in arm,

In a gentle dream of love.

Pointless

Today I write and write;

I write with all my might:

I write in hope of hope;

And I always dot the i's.

Today I fight and fight;

I fight with all my might:

I fight and want to win;

And I always dot the i's.

Today I strive and strive;

I strive to stay alive:

I strive to stay afloat;

And I always dot the i's.

Today I found no light;

Only despondency in sight:

There's no return from where I've been;

So I no longer dot the i's

On the way home, post-mojitos

Thighs thighs thighs
I am obsessed!
Round and firm,
Chunky, thin,
Women's, men's,
Rubbing together,
Stretching jeans
To full capacity....
I am obsessed with thighs,
The way they sigh at me,
Mirroring my longing,
Meeting the gaze of my lips
Which I lick,
Slowly;
Desire passing,
Mouth to flesh
In my head - 
The inside coming out.
I am sure
Everyone can see;
I am obsessed with thighs.

The Chameleon

The chameleon lies in sun or rain.

Absorbing what is around her,

Becoming her surroundings.

No one knows 

What the chameleon looks like

For she is different to all.

Her voice, her face,

How she moves

Change with each setting.

She is no one;

Lost. In a sea of otherness

She is alone.

Knitting

The threads and fibres
Pull in opposite directions;
The weft and weave
Stretch to breaking point.
With a great deal of time,
Patience, and ever-increasing skill,
I slowly knit them back together.
I have come to know
The flow of my left hand,
The clarity of my right;
I see their vulnerability
As they mend this taut split,
Deftly intertwining wool
Like thoughts in a mystery.

Ain't No Sunshine?

The sun does not mean to be cruel.

It sends its rays down to earth,

Sometimes lighting an individual's day

With its attention.

Sometimes not.

Noticed by its absence

As much as its illuminating presence.

So many clouds today.

And yet….

And yet……...

I see in the distance

Shafts of light

Penetrate through the grey.

Someone else at least

Is standing in the sunshine.

Luna Too

Awestruck by a lemon,
A shaft of light,
A man absorbed in his book.

Floating high above,
She does not see
Everyday human pains
But is instead astonished
By the commonplace miracles
She once assumed
All beings noticed.

Over and over
She was pulled in by
The weight of the world,
Bamboozled by the restrictions
Of hours and minutes,
Dazed by times imposed
Uncomplementarily upon
So natural a cycle.

More and more
She maintains her own orbit.

Love Leads Us

We aspire to nakedness.

Is that where life lies,

In an undressed heart?

Do we seek perfection?

Acceptance is not always

Compromise.

Your lips on my cheek,

Your breath in my ear

Birth a longing

That moves my tears to fall.

I am still,

While love flows.

Another inch

And our mouths would meet,

Soft desire pressed against soft desire:

A moment of promise,

Contained in itself,

Leading to nothing -

Not even expectation.

Though love leads us

Into others' arms,

You

Mean I am the best me

I can be.

Still Snowing

Ground of starlight sparkling underfoot,

The only paths exist in memory.

A gentle wind makes a snowman of me,

Bright-eyed and cherry-nosed.

The steps of others litter the way ahead,

Making a mess of the weather's best efforts.

My fingers long to touch so I reach

Bare skin to scoop crystal powder,

Gaze at perfect flakes in half light

While the sky continues to deliver:

The more gifts arrive, the fewer people

Sally forth to find adventure.

I love moving through this stillness.

Hair

Dying gives it new life;
Colour.
Cut short in its prime
Or left to fulfill its potential;
Twisted and shorn;
Clamped in irons;
Dampened down, straightened out,
Neglected, wild, unkempt;
Changed to suit someone's whim;
Deeply conditioned,
Or left to fly free:
It continues to grow regardless.

Edith

With shallow breath she lies
In the still, restless sleep of the dying.
Her tiny body shivers with an agony
I am powerless to cure.
Memories of her lap gently
At the beach of my mind:
A conspiratorial eye winking;
An "ooo no, I don't like that!";
A smile of beauty and connection.
All I have to give her now
Is a gentle hand;
A few kind words;
Attention;
Tears;
Love.

Expectation

Shoulds piled up like rubble;
Left the onlooker
To gaze; wondering.

What was the old building
He had walked or run.....
Passed everyday?

Run.... Now there was a thing
His legs had not tried
In longer than he

Cared. Oh to care as much
Or as little as
The young who saw him

Now and then; held his hand;
One to whom he told
His secret, as he

Once did to the ocean.
Anticipation
Stirred his very bones

And the once dry dust of
A dream he thought dead
Breathed, with lungs of life.

Like Kalahari sands
When rains come at last,
Hope was rekindled.