Showing posts with label Dream. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dream. Show all posts

Thursday, 7 April 2016

What if?

What if time was not time - not event upon event?
What if sequence is illusion - and illusion is bent?
What if now is then and then is now?
What if I am, and was, is the same somehow?

What if we just dream the now?
What if everything is nothing, or an endless Tao?

I have a world in my head
Full of love and dread
It seizes the day
But I stay in my bed

My world and yours
We agree by default
A manifold illusion
In our great gestalt

What if past, now and then were one?
What if all was simply the kingdom come?
What if we, in this life confined
Were truly immortal, love divine?

Friday, 29 January 2016

You mean I'm really OK??

I've really been into helping people see that they are OK, at the core of their being. They aren't broken.

I love seeing that spark as they realise they have value, that they actually matter and can bring so much to those around them, and even the rest of the world!

But I'm realising I don't quite live it myself - not as much as I would encourage others to do! Sure, I'm happier and more confident than I've ever been, but I'm seeing that my self hatred is deeper than I thought.

I didn't fit in as a kid. Then I realised I was gay - culturally forbidden in the 60s and 70s conservative middle class. Then I got religion, and the self loathing got even worse. My whole life was one of failure - not living up to my own or other's expectations. The image I had of myself affected every aspect of my life. I lived in fear of being exposed as a fraud.

Now, I have come out of that to the degree where I feel free and integral for the first time in my life, but I still don't value my abilities. I still think I'll fail - that people will somehow see that I'm a scrambled mess, and I'm of no real value.

I still walk into a room full of people and deep down assume that they are all "better" than me - more "adult" - more "together".

So here I am, trying to make Silent Gays and my book a going concern, when deep down, there's still that sense of fraud and failure.

I'm not sharing this for pity. Its simply that in seeing this for what it is, I realised that so many of us feel the same. If we've hidden who we really are out of fear and shame, then it will affect every area of our lives!

I passionately want to help the world be a better place, to provide hope and love. We all need to help each other to be all that we can - to recognise the affects of the past and to support and encourage each other.

We CAN do this - We are not our past - We are not who we were.

Friday, 20 November 2015

What to do about terror

The last few days, since the terrorist attacks in Paris, have seen a massive amount of divisive opinions over how to solve the problem.

There seem to be two camps on the issue, generally speaking. One involves more aggression, better defence, stricter controls, and a ruthless approach with the goal to obliterate ISIS and all Muslim terrorists. There is even a push to vilify Islam in it's entirety.

The other camp sees a bigger picture, where love wins.

The first response is very justifiable and I agree that it's the most logical approach, and could achieve very good short term results. It's a direct solution that confronts the immediate problem.

The second response is seen by most as a leftist, hippy dream that will make us all weak and easy takings for the Muslim's wanting to establish the Caliphate. In fact they see it as the ultimate weakness and the failure of all that western democracy has fought hard to establish based on christian morals.

History has shown us without a shadow of doubt that humanity learns nothing from history. We just go round in circles, doing the same things, expecting different results.

We rise up in righteous indignation when we are confronted by "evil", in whatever form that may take, and do battle for truth and justice, often in God's name (whoever that God may be).

But suppose there actually was a better way? What if we took the effort to step back and recognise that our responses are emotional reactions based on the circumstantial evidence in front of us? What if we were prepared to accept the possibility that we are reacting rather than clearly thinking? What if we stopped to look at history, and accept that repeating the same thing over and over is not just really dumb, but incredibly tragic beyond belief?!

The "still small voice" that christianity speaks of, is exactly that. It's in all of us. But it's "still" and "small", meaning that we have to step back from our emotional reactions, our anger, frustration, hatred and biases, to be able to hear it. We have to recognise that to find something deeper and lasting and life giving, requires us to let go enough to hear that part of us that is "still and small".

Even Jesus said, in no uncertain terms, "love your enemies, do good to those who hurt you". He was pretty big on it actually. He didn't add a "but", he just laid it on the line.

So its possible that we can achieve the peace we desperately crave without violence. In fact peace with violence is impossible, always has been and always will be. Sure, we can look at short term "victories" where violence solved an immediate problem, but the core issues never resolve. We refuse to accept that  love could be an ever better cure to our ills.

We refuse to accept that something as simple as love has any real power. But we have forgotten that we ALL are vulnerable, emotional beings. We are ALL complex creatures, full of fears and loves, passions and desires. We ALL love, we ALL long for acceptance, understanding, compassion and empathy. We ALL long to be understood at the deepest level.

Every single person ever created longs to be understood, to be heard and respected, to be treated with justice and compassion. And that includes terrorists and Muslims.

What would happen if we were prepared to recognise that simple fact and begin to act on it? What would happen if we actually extended love in all it's raw beauty, in all it's humility and unconditional acceptance of our humanity?

Are we prepared to try? Or are we too proud and arrogant? Are we simply going to repeat the never ending cycle of violence or finally realise that it's time we actually learned something from history?

We've never tried love! Now could be a great opportunity!

Thursday, 25 June 2015

THIS MOMENT

Thanks to Jeff Foster for this amazing insight

THIS MOMENT, FRIEND, THIS MOMENT
This is for anyone who is going through a crisis, big or small.
Friend, I know that sometimes it feels like everything's falling apart, and even the most beautiful spiritual words sound like bullshit, meaningless, flowery, new-age drivel. We lose everything we thought defined us, or made us happy, everything that seemed to matter to us, and it feels like we will never recover. We are left in total despair, disappointment, disillusionment. It seems like 'the end', with no hope of recovery.
Yet in life, there are no true endings, only transformations, new beginnings emerging from rubble. Old dreams dying, the false falling away, which can be excruciatingly painful, of course, of course! Destruction, breakdowns, disruptions, shocks and losses, often feel like enemies, but always contain seeds of the new, and sometimes it just takes time to recover. This devastation you are going through, this crucifixion of dreams you feel, is an opportunity to let go of EVERY SINGLE IDEA you've ever had of how your life was "supposed to be", all those cherished dreams that were simply false, yet beautiful and useful at the same time (or even how your life never even seemed to get off the ground!).
The invitation today is to be present to your life, to wake up to it, to turn towards this immediacy, to dignify what is actually happening where you are. If there is loneliness visiting you here and now, do not turn away. If there is fear, do not push it away or try to escape. If there is frustration, anxiety, or just a quiet sense of hopelessness moving in you, do not reject these energies. They just want to be felt, now. They are not wrong. They are your lost children, orphans of awakening, and just want to move and be felt. Sometimes life brings us to our knees so that we will FEEL everything we've been running away from all our lives. And yes, the 'meeting' may hurt. But perhaps feeling the hurt is the beginning of healing, not the ending of it.
And watch the mind. How it constantly spins, rewinds and fast-forwards, constantly leaves the present scene of your life, here and now. Thought is constantly running away from the present moment. It goes into memory - of how good things were before, of how wonderful your life used to be. And it longs to return there. And it feels unable to. And despair results. Regret. Longing.
Homesickness. And it fast-forwards into the future, imagining all kinds of future scenarios, many dark and scary. It takes you into regions way beyond your control. And both movements into past and future disconnect you from where you are NOW, which is all there is. They take you away from your only point of power - this moment.
But this moment is all there is. This breath. These sensations. Present sounds, smells. Present beating of the heart, the feeling of your butt on the chair. A little bird singing on the tree outside. The buzz of the television over there. A feeling of contraction in the chest, tenderness in the throat. This is a call to radical, radical simplicity. To honouring the not-knowing. To admitting humility in the face of life. Without the story of past and future, can you really know that your life has 'gone wrong'? For that is the belief at the core of everything, isn't it? That your life has 'gone wrong'. That the 'me' has failed somehow. That the universe is cruel and somehow against you. It's an intelligent conclusion to make, yes. I won't judge you for it. But perhaps it's not the truth. Perhaps the mind doesn't know.
My friend, your disillusionment, your inability to believe all those spiritual teachings now, including my own, is not a mistake - it is pure intelligence at work! Your disillusionment is part of waking up, not the end of waking up! This is all an invitation to a deeper awakening than you ever thought possible. You are being forced to question everything - everything - including all those cherished spiritual teachings that once held so much value. You are being called to find your own authority, to let go of all those bullshit ideas about what 'a good life' means. You are being invited to let go of everything second-hand, everything old, everything received - from parents, teachers, gurus - everything in memory, and be present to life, raw and naked.
Sometimes we have to lose everything to remember our total humility, to remember that we are not in control, and that each moment is full of wonder and thrilling uncertainty. You are on a path of devastation now - it was exactly what Jesus was teaching.
This is not the end for you - it is the beginning of a new and different life, a new way of moving in the world, however hard that is to see. It is a time of renewal, of slowing-down, of discovering the abundance contained within the nothingness. A time to be kinder to yourself. There is so much potential for you, friend, even if you cannot believe that.
There have been many times in my own life when I felt unable to go on, unable to stand. I felt that I had lost everything, that nothing was possible, that the void was the only life. But I just didn't know what the universe had in store.
Even though you feel lonely and abandoned, frightened and angry, friend, know that many others are walking with you, and many others understand. You will write your own book of transformation one day.
This moment, friend. THIS moment.
- Jeff Foster

Wednesday, 18 February 2015

Losing our lands, gaining the world

I was talking to someone the other day about land rights, here and abroad, the middle east, all that stuff. You know what its like. The endless to and fro about who was there first, the injustices and horrors.

I thought about the ISIS stuff, the christians, and all the other religious wars and persecutions. I wondered about the Jews claim to their God given homeland, the cries of the Palestinians, the Ukrainians, and all the other eastern Europe conflicts. The aboriginals, the American Indians, on and on through history.

So much is tied up in national identity and its relationship to the land. Humanity has what I would call an obsession with the land being integral with their identity. The history of countless generations becoming an almost physical part of the soil they stand on. Every nation on earth has this.

Countless "superior" nations have invaded and conquered weaker nations and tribes, dislodging them from their native lands, often cruel, and even genocidal. Often those earlier nations did the same with even earlier cultures and tribes. It's a cycle that humanity keeps going through.

History proves that man learns nothing from history. This seems to be a prime example. People tromping over each other, claiming some superior reason or right - often a "reclaiming" of old lands that are their heritage, as if who they are is inherent in the particular patch of earth they "own".

Sure, there are nations that "get it" in the sense that no one owns the land. But they aren't that common any more. Many of them have been forced into the same "ownership" mentality.

How sad that humanity keeps thinking that anything outside of themselves - external to them - is of such value that they are willing to kill for it!

I understand the spiritual connections to the land, but as a species we keep elevating that connection to our personal and corporate identity. We think that if we don't stand together with our tribe on our "ancestral" land (and that goes for any country/nation/tribe/culture) we will lose all meaning and hope.

What a waste!

Seriously, it's a tragic delusion that focuses on the external, the material, as if that is what makes us who we are.

Patriotism - what an absolute ripoff! Yes, I love the country I live in and all the benefits I have as part of that culture, but patriotism is a deep "us and them" arrogance. It says we are better, stronger, nicer, happier, we have better morals, better government. It separates into tribes and build walls. It stands in defiance against humanity's unique unity.

My country is no more special than yours. I love where I live, but its not my identity. We hold ideals as if they magically make us better. We think our "rich" heritage actually means something. Sure its interesting, but its not WHO WE ARE.

America, the Middle East, ALL of us. We are humanity, we are one! This isn't some hippie drug induced dream - its the only way forward. No religion will ever provide a solution, no political system will make a difference. Only our determination to break apart those paradigms and actually see each other as loving beautiful people, will make any difference.

How do we do this? How do we actually get to this point? We simply start doing it. We stop being patriotic, one individual at a time. We stop looking for our identity in others, in our environment, in our culture, in our family. We still love them, but they are not US. It's not an unachievable pipe dream. Its as simple as letting go and choosing to see with eyes that love - exercising empathy and compassion, over and above our obsession for cultural identity.

It's simply living loved.

Thursday, 30 October 2014

Tuesday, 13 May 2014

Mansionland



A short story... with no pictures.


The land was expansive. Really expansive. I’m not really sure you could say it had a horizon, although it did, sort of. It faded away into immeasurable distance, and I mean a really, really immeasurable distance. Well that’s how it seemed.

But that was just one aspect, although I must admit a rather impressive one.

There was light. You know, just like in the movies and C.S. Lewis books, and near death experiences. That sort of light. But you breathed the light and it felt like air in a light sort of way.

Anyway, this place was awesome, in an overawesome way that transcended the awesomeness of any other awesome thing you could think of. So really, I don’t think I’ll bother even trying to allegorise it, let alone metaphorise it. Let’s just say it’s beyond metaphor, or language.

So there’s this place and I’m looking around, and there’s these huge mansions scattered around. Quite a few of them really, spread out way into the fading horizon that isn’t really a horizon.

There’s a lot of space between them all though, forests and gardens, beauty that’s disorganised in a non-minimalist crazy person kind of way. Wild but knowable, untamed but playable.

The whole place, the land, whatever it is, was complete. Nothing could conceivably or inconceivably be added or taken away. You just knew that the entirety of ‘all that is” is here, visible or hidden, searchable for sure, maybe not findable, but there none the less.

So yeah, it was just the other day, or maybe it was tomorrow, or did I dream it, or will I dream it in another life? Anyway, there I was, smacking my gob at this place and wondering about the mansions. So I set off to the closest one.

Not sure how long it took, maybe an hour or a week. Just can’t tell in this place.

As I approached I could see this mansion was huge, really huge! But it looked really strange. Despite the obvious ostentatiousness of the place it was really a hodgepodge of add-ons and extensions. So much so that I had no idea what the original might have looked like. The windows were boarded up, which I though was rather strange given how incredible the view was – and who the heck would want to block out this light?

So as I approached I met a couple of people wandering around outside in these outrageous suits – like diving suits. You know, all sealed up with air tubes going back to the mansion and an airtight helmet with tinted glass so I couldn’t really see their faces, and we had to shout at each other to be heard. It was really, really weird. Maybe they all had some medical condition?

Never the less, they invited me in.

The front door was very impressive indeed with very ornate symbolism in the carvings and pictures all over it. But instead of the whole door opening to welcome strangers, there was just a little door down one side – just like those big warehouse doors have a little one so they don’t have to open the whole thing all the time.

We quickly entered and slammed the door shut behind us while they took off their suits in the rather comparatively dim light.

Together they welcomed me to the “Mansion of Light”.

OK… it was rather dingy, but I gave them the benefit of the doubt.

I was then given a map of all the places to see, in the correct order with the correct viewing times and who would be leading the viewing sessions and their qualifications, along with all the correct protocols to follow.

They wanted to personally take me around to make sure I got it right, but I hate guided tours - you know how it is – you never get the time to really find out the whole story. It was a battle but I assured them I’d be fine and follow all the protocols, sheesh!

Of course I didn’t have any intention of following boring tourist guides and protocols so set off exploring the moment they were out of sight.

All the boarded up windows were a puzzle, seeing as they had to rely on artificial light all the time and some corners, and even whole rooms, were really hard to see into.

As I went around the rooms I found endless groups of people mostly discussing what the land outside was like and the best ways to get around out there. Other groups were saying outside was a dangerous place and best not to venture out unless properly prepared, and proceeded to debate the best methods of protection. Many seemed to think that outside was actually evil and we shouldn’t even entertain the idea of going out there.

There were so many rooms some big, some small, some huge auditoriums, some little studies, but all with people discussing/debating/arguing, or just being told, how to deal with outside, or even if they should deal with outside in the first place. It was so confusing, even though each room seemed to basically agree amongst themselves.

Every so often though, I’d see someone sneak out and into another room, as if nothing had happened. But as I was going down one particular corridor, a whole heap of people suddenly ran out of one room down the hall and into an empty room, shouting wildly about the colour of the walls. Truly perplexing!

I began to wonder where I’d be if I’d taken the guided tour!

After a while I bumped into a quiet sort of guy walking slowly through a pillared gallery where some of the windows weren’t quite so well boarded up, and cracks let through small rays of light that shone on parts of some of the paintings and sculptures.

Thinking he might throw some light (as it were) on what the heck was going on this place, I straight out asked why the windows were boarded up?

He looked at me with a strange expression, as if I was either an idiot, or maybe it was a trick question and he was waiting for the other half of my question so it would make sense. After a few moments where he seemed to be trying to process the obvious absurdity of my question, he started on quite a long and eloquent discourse.

Around 5 minutes later he stopped to see if I was following, but alas, I couldn’t follow a single thing he was saying. It all seemed to do with ancient prophecies and traditions, and the elders of the ancient days who spoke of strange powers and beings and who knows what. I just wanted a simple answer as to why they didn’t like the light.

As he began his dissertation again I casually wandered over to a nearby window that was letting in a ray of light and went to look through the crack.

Well, what a commotion! He stopped in horror and began a tirade about respecting the light and having to wear special glasses, and you had to spend hours in preparation or be one of the elite before you could even glimpse outside.

This place was really beginning to creep me out. So I excused myself with many apologies and headed off for the stairs to see if I could quietly find some light and fresh air. After a while of wandering and working my way up, I found what seemed like a rather little used hall leading to a stair case that almost certainly went to the roof or a balcony, judging by number of flights I’d come up and the general layout as best I could figure it. As I reached the top of the stairs and began to look for a door outside, a very old guy suddenly threw open a door and light streamed in behind him creating a silhouette. He had been outside obviously, but was keen to come back in. He hesitated when he saw me and looked around, perhaps to see if I was alone.

He obviously didn’t know quite how to deal with my presence and stood there with the door half open, until he decided to ask what I was doing. I honestly stated I’d like some light and fresh air as it was getting rather oppressive inside.

Again he looked around and asked if I knew what it was really like out there. Well, of course I knew, although after being in this place for what seemed like ages, I was beginning to wonder if I did. All the confusion and different ideas that really didn’t make much sense to anyone who had actually been outside, were beginning to take their toll on me.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me closer. I saw in the silhouette of his face that he was wearing dark glasses, but he wasn’t in the suits that others wore outside. It all seemed very conspiratorial somehow, but never the less he seemed to think I was an ally of some sort who was in the know.

He reached into his coat and pulled out another pair of glasses, saying I’d need them before going out. I could see it was bright outside but not harsh or glaring, still, I put them on just to humour him.

We quickly stepped out on to the roof and I was hit by the incredible view. Simply amazing. But the stupid glasses made everything look dull and all the colours were wrong, and I couldn’t even see clearly into the distance. I guess it was my previous experience of the land which allowed me to appreciate it still. I put my hand up to take off the glasses but he jumped in horror when he realised what I was doing and knocked my hand out of the way, declaring me insane.

I stopped and decided to humour him. He was shaken but turned to look out with me. After a few seconds I pointed to another mansion some way off and asked who lived there.

He turned slowly and seemed to be struggling with my question. He then started a discourse, not unlike the other guy downstairs, about the ancients and traditions and evil forces and battles and who knows what, until after a few minutes I gave up trying to follow him.

This was all too much really. I politely interrupted him and said I couldn’t really follow him, but that was OK, I was just curious. I thanked him anyway and as I could see a staircase that wound its way down the outside of the building, I said I’ll just go and see them myself and took of the glasses to give back to him.

That was obviously a huge mistake. Apparently it was inconceivable that anyone could/should/would even think about doing that! He then preceded to pontificate in a strange voice about the curses of the ancients and the dangers of venturing out on my own and being blinded and deceived by the light because the nature of the land apparently could only be correctly discerned with their glasses.

It started to get rather ugly, and even though I apologised for any offence, and tried to reassure him that I was fine because the light was actually a lot better without the glasses and I just wanted to meet the other people and hear their story, he just got more worked up.

Oh well, I smiled anyway and quickly went down the stairs. I could still hear him shouting from the roof as I walked on to the grass and out into the wild/tame gardens towards the other mansion. He wasn’t making any sense at all by that stage and his abuse faded into the breeze as I breathed in the light and lost myself….



Friday, 22 February 2013

Slowing Down

Not sure how to express this, but I'll give it a go.

Here's the list of possibilities.

  • I'm way to cynical and burnt for my own good
  • I'm still in recovery from clinical depression
  • I'm overwhelmed by the sheer vastness of lost and confused people
  • I'm overwhelmed by the sheer vastness of people who know everything
  • I'm overwhelmed by the incredible diversity of people's paradigms
  • I'm overwhelmed by the blindness created by people's paradigms
  • I'm overwhelmed by the sheer vastness of God and his relationship to us
  • I'm overwhelmed by the complexity of matter, energy and its integration with spirituality
  • I'm frustrated with narrow minded fundamentalism
  • I loath the tiny little closed box of christianity
  • I'm disgusted by the arrogance of preachers proclaiming they know God
  • I'm horrified by the level of control wielded by spiritual leaders
  • I hate being labelled a christian
  • I'm ashamed of all that calls itself christianity

BUT
  • I'm slowing down and taking time to see things
  • I'm discovering God in new ways
  • I'm beginning to understand living in the moment
  • I'm experiencing real inexplicable moments of love FROM God
  • I'm being changed in deep ways that surprise me
  • I see clearer, every day, God's intricate oneness with everything and everyone
  • I have a sense of peace that grows deeper every day
  • I see people with more compassion than I ever have
  • I've dropped all christian dogma
  • I feel the weight of religion and christian expectation evaporate more every day

Yes, I'm all of the above, and I've never been better, never understood myself more, never been freer to just be me, and never experienced God's love in such a tangible way.

I'm also tired, but not a bad tired, just a peaceful tired. A happiness to close my eyes and dream, to stand on the beach and absorb the sun and sea. To feel loved and to love. Like the last 56 years were almost a dream - a very long difficult dream, that put me right here and now, right where I should be.

I guess its all a bit vague. But I think if we all stop to listen to our hearts long enough, there may be a lot of common ground between us all. 
I hope so.

Wednesday, 30 January 2013

A Face Full of Dirt

(Likened unto visionaries we shall walk with still feet and not trample the tall blades or spill their green life)

I fell on my face the other day, or maybe in another time, and they came, I thought to laugh at me, but offered warm hands, I thought in self righteous piety - and I told them all about themselves - I thought. If they had just seen and told me I would not have fallen. They too should fall on their smiling little faces and taste the dirt that I can taste, and eat the mud and slime.

I waited for a while, or a lifetime, and felt them move back out of my awareness.

The dampness about me had a dark warmth and life all of its own - moving on soft edges and brittle limbs and burrowing into darkness to die and give life back to the cycle. And I watched and drew my own life from theirs and I heard their whispers and longed for their wisdom.

(We moved beyond his sight but always watched for him, for the movement would not be long)

After a time I felt the wind moving through my hair as if challenging my part in the earth cycle, and I moved, ever so slight, my face braking contact with the earth, and the breeze twisted around my cheeks. The life of the breeze was complete and unto itself and above the earth. But the dirt held my eyes and the life of the wind and earth would blend, I thought, at least with me as their mediator. But the strain on my neck was growing and with my desire for the life of the wind AND the life of the earth eating at my heart, confusion held fast.

(We saw the moment, stepped forward, and gently raised his head)

As my strength gave, hands, warm and gentle, lifted my head back to the compromise, and I welcomed their strength. But they kept lifting a little higher, and a little higher. And the breeze began to enfold my whole face, and I understood the life of the air, I thought, and restrained the hands there, for here was all understanding! It seemed.

The hands held firm and never faltered and I wondered at their strength and beauty. I remembered then, MY hands, and slowly brought them up to my face, examined them and began to see the likeness to those that held me!

(We moved closer - he was seeing, and an eagerness flooded our hearts)

I touched my face - with my hands! They felt like those who held me. I felt the dirt still clinging to my cheeks, almost embedded grain by grain into the skin. I rubbed, and dirt fell, and as it fell I felt more of the life of the air, and in my excitement I found I was leaning on my elbows and the hands moved to help me.

(We smiled now, and cautiously prepared to lift him as he gave us leave)

The air filled my spirit but it overwhelmed me, and the simple cycle of life in the earth held my mind. I tasted the grains on my fingers and smelled the mud, but now, I was only seeing its death. I hoped then that at least I would understand the air, so I pushed up back onto my hands and felt the other hands shift in firmer grip to help me. They felt so warm and loving compared to the damp of the earth, so that all I now desired was to see and feel more!

I raised my head slowly, straining against unused muscles, and saw faces. I think I remembered the faces, but I wasn't sure, and seeing their smiles, I smiled too and realised we shared the same life of the air.

(If they could all be this willing we would be there by now)

Together, we stood up - they held me still, though, for my legs were weak and shaky. I looked around and in the distance saw - something, a goal, and I began to walk with them, like visionaries, with still feet and not trampling the tall blades or spilling their green life.

And the wisdom of the life of the air filled me.

Tuesday, 24 July 2012

Today...


Early mist, eddies, foggy eyes
Morning light denies
Creeping thinking fingers of why
Today, is the worth of change
Too magnetic to refuse
Or does the warmth of the night
Pull tight
On sheets that fight
For the right, to cover my dreams?

Does the day pass
Too fast to last
The tide of thoughts
Pouring from a cracked mind
Into pools left behind
Moment by minute
Barely mine?

The night space is different somehow
Pull the day together
The thread of peace
Through every neuron
Summarising, ordering,
Creating, regretting
Embracing this jumble
Resting and forgetting
Covering my dreams

Saturday, 2 June 2012

Change

Wheels of paradigm should not be so inclined
To maintain the grinding of the soul's seeds
Flouring petals denied their bloom

Wheels of paradigm may never be inclined down slopes
Less explored, dust and hopes
Ignore petals allowed their glory

Slumber cyclic dreams
Self fulfilled fear
Comfort of the known caress 
Lulled, gentle turning and returning

    The broken mind knows its mind
    And doesn't mind its paradigm
    A broken mind seeks to find
    Another mind beyond its kind

Fingers of change push in to the damp soil of the heart
Lifting and turning, feeling for smothered bulbs
That long for light to shine radiant petals
Breaking through broken wheels that were inclined
To explore dust and hope

The cycle of growth breaks dreams
Of comforting caress
Exposing to sunlight, creating duress
To change, to roll wheels
Kick heals, new ideals

Dry bulb's sleeping petals
Burst colour, life
Undreamed, unformed

Never too late

Monday, 28 May 2012

We Are One

When a heart slows, beating into the mist
When footsteps disconnect, reality bleeding
Eyes tunnel
Voices funnel
The overload begins, the mind retreats
Neurons firing in slowmo

Curling foetal, dreams warmth embracing
Clawing rest, wresting the peace
It will come, it floats through
It curls and folds
It draws and caresses 
It speaks

Can't fight it
Process light it
Fuse ignite it
Oils flowing, warming
Flames passion, intimate touch
Breathe and whisper

We are here, we are one
We sleep and dream, live and scream
We shout our love through the mist
The overload retreats
And we rest in the afterglow
We are one
We are

Wednesday, 21 October 2009

Fragile

I sometimes exist in a dream-time -
Withdrawing.
I’ll reach out with a piece of dream,
Held tenderly,
Offering to those who would see it’s worth -
To be returned shattered,
It’s value lost in the taking.
I stand exposed - a fool bearing fools gold.
But I still dream,
And if just one accepts
and offers their dream in return,
We can be fools together, with our gold!