adlib-spoken-written-thought

[adlib-spoken-written-thought]

Clipped Dreams

Poem 2

Can you imagine the height

The sensation of depth and the stunning views below

Sensing the eddies and currents

Catching thermals to soar, wheel and glide free for miles

The broody mother plucking down to feather her nest

The warm cocoon sheltering first the eggs and later the young birds

The vivid competition of fatherhood

A dance of iridescent coloured plumage to woo and impress

The shared task of sourcing vital nutrition to feed and fatten the fledglings for flight

Is that all lost

In the industrial process of clipped wings and beaks

Birds white like veal confined out of the natural light

Growing so fast so hot

Feathers moult leaving scraggly reptilian features exposed

Frustrated, hungry and overheated bodies pecked and cut left diseased to die

Festering trampled underfoot neglected

This futile struggle for survival of the meatbird

How can it ever even dream beyond its own pitiful event horizon of this life in this shed

[adlib-spoken-written-thought]

A Cage Within a Room

Musings from my time in Kashmir when I write two poems triggered by the same thoughts about how the girls and women were treated like second class citizens.

Poem 1

When a bird dwells inside a cage

It is possible to glimpse a larger greater world through the bars

Instinctually it preens and feeds and talks

Hopping from perch to perch

Is it happy or forlorn to the observer?

Maybe rarely it can fly around the room

Discover new objects in the larger environment

Maybe interact with a greater being

Alight upon a shoulder or a finger

But no greater awareness of a possible life outside captivity

Just the way things have always been and always will be

Unless a change has been deemed necessary by those in charge

Maybe an introduced bird and a forced relationship of confinement can commence

Love or hate only time will tell

To bring joyous youthful companionship

Or broken hearted a tormented rapid aging and early demise

But what if this pure beauty and innocence can be set free instead?

Would the bird choose the opened window

Or choose to remain and fly back inside the cage inside the room?

[adlib-spoken-written-thought]

Encountering Amazons - Gretske Doornebal Edit

One of the Amazons liked my poem and offered an edit of it.

I like this although it hasn’t changed too much. I find it entertaining that they have reverted to short lines which was a style I personally had been trying to experiment away from in order to create longer descriptions and a different form or flow.

cloistered in 

the humid woven hut 

brows dripping 

intense vapour 

panting in 

hot 

deep 

breaths 

no refresh 

naked company

sweat together 

purifying 

openly with strangers 

solo journeys converge 

escaping

melting 

into the heat 

 my dull mind shocked 

by an entry of another 

travelling soul 

blesses the threshold 

hesitantly 

unsure but welcome 

robed introductions summarily dispensed 

as the heat builds

both sexes sitting

Steaming

languishing 

whilst pores stream away 

 communication ensues 

powerful women 

divine beings 

making their own paths 

learn and play 

embracing the experience

ownership over destiny 

be yourself warrior spirited Amazons 

shit kicking daughters of Gaea 

 intuition and intellect dwell in the sharp mind of a pure being

wise eyes take in the sublime forms of beauty 

strength as she now comfortably disrobes 

more weapons for their arsenal 

as they battle for the power of self determination 

life experience has enhanced their amour 

but sublime female forms doth now relax 

 my admiration shines out 

coming to terms 

with my own choices 

I journey within myself 

and out into my own playground 

to connect with such spirits 

manifested thus in flesh 

brings me great joy 

to unify

all at peace 

in steam 

before we deviate

[adlib-spoken-written-thought]

Encountering Amazons

Inspired by a meeting in a Laos sauna

Cloistered in the humid woven hut

Brows dripping in the intense vapour

Panting in hot deep breaths

But it does not refresh

Naked company to sweat together         purifying

Strangers openly conversing with no barriers or boundaries

Detox and relax after solo journeys converge

Escaping into the heat

Melting

My dull mind shocked by the sudden entry of another

But another travelling soul blesses the threshold hesitantly

Unsure but welcome

Remaining robed introductions are summarily dispensed with as the heat builds

Both sexes sitting steaming, languishing whilst pores stream away

A close collective communication ensues

Powerful women making their own paths in the world

An ever changing learning experience to embrace

Let go and be at one with yourself

Warrior spirited Amazons

Shit kicking daughters of Gaea

Intuition and intellect dwell in the sharp mind of a pure being

Wise eyes take in the sublime forms of beauty and strength as she now comfortably disrobes

More weapons for their arsenal

As they battle for the power of self determination

Life experience has enhanced their amour

Keen hands to a sharp edge leads to proficiency in defence and attack

But sublime female forms doth now relax

I sense divine beings communing with me in the stall

Ownership over destiny

These brave souls venture out into the world

To learn and play

To explore away from their island home

But with foresight and forearmed

Feminists who are free to act within their own constraints

My admiration shines out

Coming to terms with my own choices

I journey within myself

And out into my own playground

To connect with such spirits manifested thus in flesh

Brings me great joy

Unifying

All at peace

One with each other in the steam

Before our journeys again diverge

[adlib-spoken-written-thought]

Walking in your footsteps Brother

Inspired by musings contemplating the number of aboriginal lives who had walked the same stretch of beach as me in Tasmania. The idea that we all walk on the land and can share our mutual connection and love of the natural environment but none of us ever own her. We need to live more sustainably and share our resources with our international family members instead of persecuting them like we did the first peoples.

The layers of generations bedding together like old ones huddled staying warm around a fire

Cocoons in the deep plush embrace of connection amongst ancestors and the infinite

The flaming boughs enjoying the caress of friction and flame

As they settle life fills the eddies of sparks, dancing warmly, whirling in a spiral, upwards in the drifting smoke

These flying fragments of memory alight upon the refracting crystalline surfaces

Each photon a reflection of lives passed and possibilities

Exciting

It is electrifying as my bare feet crunch through the thin dusting of drying salt crystallising grains together

Deeply giving dune pillows; the air fills them as the lower tide ebbs and drains slowly from its depths, leaving it hollow under my tread

Watching each gust bring incalculable grains tumbling into the windswept foot wells

I am not the first to walk here

I will walk where you walk

With the utmost respect we appreciate our mother

Walking in the sunshine in awe

Even simple atoms in the polished rock, pulverised by time and nature, can be a building block for life

Carbon and silicon

Take in this view we both must have shared

Give thanks to the might that lead suns to explode, making our existence here possible

Matter condensed out of chaos to form the basis for heat, land, water, food; life

Beautiful billowing vapour levitating over the curving white sandy beach

Shadows chasing silver over the rhythmic ripples like innocent children playing

Bound by love to all life

To depend on life

Beautiful symbiosis and connection

Giving thanks for what we take for pure nurture

You already knew that Brother

But I am trying to catch up

Looking with my third eye open

I walkabout

So much suffering, tragedy and ignorance

I acknowledge my emotional and spiritual bonds

We come from the same source

I see your land all around me as it is indeed all our land for all our brothers and sisters

Appreciatively I am glad to share

If you lead the I way I will walk in your footsteps Brother

It’s time to guide all of the world’s lost souls searching to find their way back to their country

[adlib-spoken-written-thought]

Cinema of Life

I was mulling over the idea of being the observer watching someone’s life unfold on the cinema screen and knowing at the same time that it’s your life with all the choices and decisions you made on display.

Brushing aside the frayed seam of the thinning aged green velvet arm

Absently these stray strands momentarily engross me

More than the character and scenario playing out before me

Typically empathic emotional detachment doesn’t play real

Like the absent depth of this silver screen lead

Content to sit watching fictional portrayals unfold

Mind filled with daydreams and fantastical imaginings

Died harder without the risk of action

Ageless images of fulfillment achieved yet nothing of substance

Solidarity of time not withstanding

Waiting

Will the next scene grippingly unfold?

Subconscious castigation otherwise

Maybe an interlude of passion illuminated by a carnal flame

Without the development of mind the transmission of lust provoked subsides

Watching another man’s work day pass consumes much time for the viewer

A steadier narrative through all the alternate back stories and endings so muddied

Can there be a threat of plagiarism when so many sources have been imbibed to form my own narrative?

Which script is to be read from when a single story is yet to be complete?

An author watching the big-screen adaption of his own unwritten work

Who gets to be cast in the most significant roles?

Who is playing myself in the cinema of life?

What does it mean for me when the credits role and the house lights come on?

Can I still claim a producer’s credit from my back seat?

This premier screening subject to temporal criticism from materialistic outsiders

I’ve dwelt less on props and costume

Whilst the listless direction is all of my own making

Improvisation is for the other theatre

It’s my narrative to seize and propel

Dictate the next scene and captivate the audience of myself

Lovingly shot panoramas open up the world

Exploring now the dynamic interactions of our hero’s choices

Complexity and excitement builds again until I am unaware of myself the observer perched on the edge of my seat

[adlib-spoken-written-thought]

Beyond Me

I found an old short story I wrote about fourteen years ago when I was at college and living in Edinburgh. Probably not what I would write now but I remember writing it for a competition that was supposed to be inspired by the word ‘north’. I remember finding that a bit boring but the Slayer song South of Heaven made me think of hell and became the basis for it.

Here it is;

Darkness surrounds me. Well… not darkness, as it’s just black. I can’t see the floor beneath my feet or the walls that should surround me; I cannot even see my hands flapping in front of my face. I can just make out the sound of my shirtsleeves brushing against my chest as I try to see my hand inches from my eyes.

“Freaky!”

This sounds weird, as though it is just the voice inside my head, rather than a sound being projected across an open space. I feel confused now. Where the hell can I be and how the fuck did I get here? I blindly reach out to the sides, half wincing in case I hit my head on some invisible obstruction I expect to be there. Nothing! Not within arms reach anyway. I scuff my feet a bit and hear something loose like gravel or a rough stony surface. Slowly shuffling to my left I feel for a wall or a surface. Nothing!

I hear some noise now. Tiny pitter-patters like water dripping down a rock face. It seems to be coming from the floor next to my left foot. I slowly kneel down to bring my ears nearer to try and distinguish what this could be. I feel some hard objects crunch under my feet and knees as I transfer my weight. I reach down to inspect this with my right hand. It feels slightly warm and rock like, but I can feel something powdery as my fingers caress it. Curious, I sniff, wondering if I can place it somewhere in my memory. Dust goes up my nose, making me sneeze. Odd, it’s like charcoal. This is perplexing, where could this be?

I feel totally bewildered now. Could I have gone blind? What did I do last night? I don’t think I was getting fucked, so there’s no reason to be tripping. But it feels like it. Somewhere unreal. Then again, maybe I’m not. Maybe I am just drunk? Could I be drunk? Have I done something to my eyes in a campfire whilst pished? What was happening last night? I am sure this is still mid week and not a night out. I wonder what else could be near me to give me some indication. A beer can, or someone else’s comatose body in a similar state to mine. I reach my left arm down to brush this cinder-covered floor for invisible clues.

There is no floor!!!

In front of me, just a couple of inches in front of my first excavation, it ends! I feel the edge as more lumps of debris crumble and fall. I hear the same sound again. It is these light chunks of charcoal tumbling away into some unknown depths! I can feel my breath deepen and the sweat start to ooze out of my pores. My head lurches and I feel sick at what could have happened had I shuffled forwards and not to the left. I can feel heat rising from my body. Panic could be looming.

Where the fuck am I?

I have to know somehow. I feel to my left and feel this same uniform carpet of crunching burnt fuel. I evaluate my position and decide that backing away from the edge is my best bet. At least I will be away from the edge. God knows how high it could be, and heights have never been my strong point. I hope we didn’t do anything stupid. What if we had been drinking ethanol or some other fucking chemical? I mean we aren’t dumb fucking Neds. We are sophistos who like to sample the interesting range of mind-bending escapes from our reality. If someone conned us and I am fucking blind, I am going to fucking kill them! I just have to get away from this fucking place first! I suddenly have an idea, assuming my ears aren’t damaged somehow as well. I cup a hand full of small chunks from the ground and chuck them gently in front of me. I hear them land softly. I shuffle forwards and try this again. I hope it will hit something. A tent, a person or something metallic like a beer keg I can reassure myself with. Nothing!

What if someone did me over? That could be possible. Maybe they kicked the crap out of me and left me somewhere. I mean there are some wankers in my line of work! Maybe they hoped I would fall off. It wouldn’t be murder then would it? Why now though? I don’t think there’s a reason. That dealer we kicked out of the club last week didn’t work for anyone. It’s not going to be his mates then, they’ve not got enough balls to tackle us. And I don’t think the pushers have a quarrel with us right now! But checking my body I can find nothing awry. I can find no cuts, no bruising and no torn clothes. Definitely not a fight then!

Man I can’t think. I feel something then. A gust of warm air blows gently towards me. That should be a good sign, although I am not quite sure of what yet. I hobble forwards like a paranoid rabbit, still testing the way with small handfuls of rocks.

Hang on though! I can hear falling rocks again.

I hope I am wrong, but I think I have fully imprinted that noise firmly into my memory. I have arrived at another edge, or, I have gone full circle and come right back. I don’t think I have travelled far enough to rotate three hundred and sixty degrees though. It feels identical. I am stunned. My mind has gone blank. This is just totally unfathomable to me. I know of no place like this. Just fucking amazing! I am blind on some narrow cliff pass in the middle of fucking nowhere! Just fucking great!

I can’t despair over this; I have come through a lot in my life! I am not going to sit on a path and cry like a pussy with no sight.

Or am I? Christ, I might at this rate!

Don’t give up. I mean the path must lead somewhere.

It just might take a while. I’d better start now. I turn to my right seeing as I have already travelled this direction a short distance. Why back track? I run my hand along the edge to my left to guide me. I shuffle on, determined to get away from this place. I can feel my knees rubbing raw on the path below them. I just want to get to a car park, get help and get to some safe haven where I can nurse my wounded pride.

It feels strange that the edge is so crumbly. I would have imagined some fence would be appropriate to stop small children or dogs falling off the edge. I wonder that there seems to be no plant life. No tough heather clinging to the sides of this goat track. I wonder if it is day or night, not that it would make much difference to me right now.

I suddenly choke, my simplistic daydreams ruptured by the harsh reality I am confronted with.

This path ends.

No wall or solid mass confronts me. Just another decaying edge and space. What fucking path is this, a deserted viewpoint maybe? I scream out “WHICH CUNT DID THIS TO ME???? I AM GONNAE FUCKING CUT YOUR BALLS OFF!!!!!!”

Man, I can feel pinpricks in my eyes as small drops of moisture squeeze their way out of my tear ducts. I am really sobbing now. Where, how, who, what? I just have no answers. I drag myself round and start crawling back the way I had just come. It feels slightly smoother where I have flattened this cinder path. I can feel the dust rising around my face. Fuck caution now! With warm tears flowing and this bitter burnt mix of sweat, tears and dust covering my face, I painfully scramble on, following the edge with my right hand. My only thought now is to get away and reap vengeance on the person who put me here. I am moving quickly now. Repeatedly moving my arms, putting weight on my feet and then transferring onto my scuffed raw knees. I feel crunching again and know I am moving along a path I have not trodden already.

I suddenly stop, paused in mid lurch forwards. An overwhelming sense of fear is gnawing at my stomach ripping my insides out of me. The path crunches under my palm. It hadn’t been like this retracing my first vain steps. Then it was powdery dust that I could feel going into my eyes and into my mouth and nose. It hadn’t been walked upon.

It hadn’t been walked upon.

This repeats like an echo in my head.

No one had walked upon it! Absolutely no one! How had I got there then?

I feel bile making a forced upward journey and gag, retching onto my hands and the ground in front of me. Disgusting, bitter acid fills my nose. This is hopeless. I just don’t understand.

Of course… the path is wider! Who would walk at the very edge? Anyone else could see and just follow the path. No blind man would come this way! I try to breathe deeply and calmly through the dust and bile. I hawk and spit away in front of me to clear my airways. I have got to keep on moving.

I get one more hop forwards before I make contact with nothing. Again!

This suddenly feels ridiculous. Like this is some practical joke. It can’t be real. There’s no way I could have got here blind and on my own. Maybe it is a joke? I might not be blind. Maybe it was a spray of some kind? Am I being filmed for some fucking bullshit reality television show? I had better not! I move back from the fourth drop and slowly shakily stand upright like the man I should be. I scream out “ I am gonnae sue your ass, you fucking cock suckers!” I worry about this now. What if they don’t help me, to see what state I can get into? “ I know your game!” I holler, feeling somewhat helpless. This feels somehow deadened. There is no echo. I must be in a studio. I suddenly worry in case I have no rights. What if my girlfriend agreed to this? What if I cannot sue these corporate bastards?

Suddenly, a shot of narrow light fires vertically down some distance in front of me. Startled after this time in the dark, I am just relieved I can see. I realise that the light is travelling a long way. It is so high! It just doesn’t seem to stop. It’s like some amazing Hollywood special effect, a massive towering beam of brilliant white light. Magic, maybe this was worth it. Hey, I might even get paid! I rub my eyes and glance down at my dim figure suddenly self-conscious about my appearance.

Suddenly it tilts towards me; so bright! I look down and see my ragged blackened chinos, a solid layer of charcoal on my raw seeping knees. My silk shirt is wet with sweat and has black streaks running through it. The sleeves rolled up, I see the state of my forearms. Blackened and scuffed raw from feeling my way. My hands need a hot soak and a good manicure. I wipe my face and see my hands run black. Man I wish I had a mirror, or a camera. What a sight eh!

I look up and am instantly blinded…

Screaming in agony, I defensively drop into a crouch! Fuck! My eyes are burning! So painful, like having acid poured into them. I slowly stand; shielding my closed eyes, quite unable to believe the light could hurt so much. I can feel the pain burning into my skull. My head raised, I clean my hand and reach up to gently touch my closed eyelids and measure the damage inflicted. It feels untouched, but my eyes are two hot coals inside my head. I raise my left hand to block the light from my face. I open my eyes grimacing, but determined to find the cause.

Although the sensation is unbearable, I can see, in a fashion. I see my raised arm as though it is translucent, a shimmering light running through it. I can see the light behind my hand piercing directly through making me scream again. My lungs rattling and my face blistering I reach up and gingerly touch my eyes. More searing pain as my fingers make contact, as though I have dipped them into molten rock! I yelp and snatch back my wounded hand snapping my head down to see how these too could be inflicted. Instantly I feel a rush of warmth down my cheeks, over my lips and I see that my three fingers are burning. The white light within me is burning with a strange purple flame. So intense! I look down rapidly; sensing that what was first warmth is now more extreme heat burning through me. I can feel my whole face burning and my chest is also simmering like boiling oil has been poured over the top half of my body. I can now only feel this ultimate heat and pain. And it spreads quickly!

I beat at my chest and face with my left arm whilst attempting to dowse my right hand. My mind screaming more than my voice, seeing this only adds to the pyre I have become. Only setting alight areas of my body which had remained untouched from the first purple flames! I see drops from my eyes have splashed onto my legs and the cinders below me, and, like molten plastic, started small fires in each of their tiny locations. Somehow my eyes are alight and this liquid fuel is burning so very hot. Like my very spirit; somehow ignited, through the very windows of my soul, by the white heat I gazed upon.

My head burns as the flames from my eyes lick upwards, over my eyebrows and make my hair into a human torch. My body becoming completely afire as all my white essence is consumed by this greedy purple entity. Like a small child watching flames chasing petrol, it is morbidly fascinating to see my body in turn act as such a catalyst for this reaction. The pain has reached an immeasurable frightening intensity, unwavering, as there is no fresh fuel to ignite. Through this haze of choking heat, flame and purple haze I see my body is intact. Something inside of me, my essence I’m sure. My soul is burning! I want to writhe about to smother the flames, but I see the cinders beneath me heating up. Already absorbing the energy I am giving off and beginning to give off a dull red glow. So futile!

I stand erect with arms raised and roar in anger, pain and confusion. I raise my head and see the light still pointed directly at me. It is so intense, but now no more painful than the rest of my tormented body. I fix it with my gaze and scream directly at it. “WHY?”

Suddenly I feel slightly cooler like a gust of air has wafted past. I look at my arms to see if I am still a grotesque burning wick.

Instantly the heat comes back! Hotter than before or maybe not, it is maybe hotter due to my brief respite.

I fall!

How?

Suddenly I come crashing down into the hot cinders, scattering them away. It feels like from some height, crashing into the platform and collapsing, snapping my right leg and bruising my side in the process. Burning, in pain and now winded. The jarring agony combines with my white heat and I feel like passing out.

But my body is not dead; there is nowhere to go but here.

I flounder about in these burning embers like a dying fish out of water. Gasping for air in the smoke arising from this flaming base I am perched on.

Looking above me the white light fades.

Around me it gets brighter.

The blackness around me slowly illuminates like coal warming up. This picture takes on a non-too-subtle red hue. I think the speed is more for psychological effect than lack of power, like realisation finally dawning. I see innumerable pillars of black rock rising out of glowing pools of lava and fountains of liquid fire. Somehow pulling myself onto my knees, I see I am not alone. On every pillar there is a flaming figure, caught in their own flaming macabre dance. Realising where I am, my last dregs of sanity and hope are dashed. Somehow dead and abandoned into Hell! I scream, my tortured voice joining the rising cacophony and mingling with all who never made it.

Dammed to an eternity of this, because I didn’t realise I was being given a chance!

For what? And why me?

I scream out “HOW THE FUCK SHOULD I KNOW, I ‘M A FUCKING ATHEIST YOU WANKERS!!!!”

‘Time’s up!’ a disembodied voice suddenly reverberates inside my head.

I suddenly jolt in my harness, breathing in heat, smoke and blackened fiery dust!

Opening my lungs to scream I choke and gag. I try to wrench my arms to move my weight off my shattered leg now making contact with the flaming floor.

I find I cannot move.

My eyes flash open with fearful anticipation. What entity should I have to confront down here?

The technician is looking at me with a bemused look on his face as he rolls the disconnected VDU’s fibre optic VR cables back up “Some fucking journey man! You gotta have some kind of complex to waste money on these machines, especially for this kinda entertainment!”

[adlib-spoken-written-thought]

Observing Interactor

This is something I wrote when I had some time to breathe in the mountains of North Eastern Vietnam.

Travel is strange as you witness but don’t really participate in the way of life you encounter.

Some of what you see is beautiful and some is tragic.

Sometimes you witness life’s passage unfolding in a prticular way simply because of the lack of a tiny amount of money.

It is not impossible to help someone by offering a small amount of support that might give them a chance to make a better go of their life than they might otherwise have.

Sitting apart from the world is the observer

Calmly watching the world passing by

Torrents and rivulets of time and other people’s lives

Unconsciously swirling around obstacles in their paths

Parting and diverting the stop start flurries journey on towards their individual resolute goals

Emotionally internally responding as a witness

Judging not as there is no jury here

A rock facing the soothing eddies of this gentle chaos

Rounding and smoothing this large chiselled obelisk

A flawed experiment as my presence though a drop causes these disturbing ripples throughout the environment

A homeopathic dilution maybe unconsciously varying the vibrations of the whole

Certainly practically invisible to the system whole

Until the surface is broken by a single touch

That unleashing tension discharged and the tearing of a million molecules

The joy of sensation at the cold shock splashing hot flesh

To plunge a determined hand down deep and extract a single buried suffocating pebble

Long gone un-noticed and trampled on by many

Yet in the sunlight emits a radiant light

Its hidden qualities reflected glistening in the dripping spring water

With no desire to manipulate the raw qualities need to stand on their own

Ego and conscience try to balance the potential with the actual

To firmly plant on a slightly elevated platform with a view over the swamp

Can a little pure nurture establish strong roots to stand and thrive unsupported

To build up until once again a dive into the torrent need be undertaken

To survive the bruising challenges as a revitalised life is enmeshed back within the fabric of society

And find their own flow alongside the nature of all things and direct their own path through the currents

Neutral again the onlooker observes their departing passage until it too is obscured by the multitude of other lives passing

[adlib-spoken-written-thought]

Ad Nauseam

Wrote this a little while ago but didn’t like it. Then I added a bit. Then I flipped it round so the second section came first and it seemd to resolve the issue I had with it.

I think it is about sensation, fulfillment and escape of and from life.

Disassociated and dissatisfied, depressed

Anticlimactic apprehension overhangs

Overthinking sets and resets the triggers of fear

To feel the lightness of joy

Imbibed through contact with the pure spirit

Residing in each one of our international family members

Connecting and sharing as we interact

Aspiring to bond my present moment to that goal

Holding back from ideas that fuse material consumption and wasteful financial expense

Yet yearning to reach outside the box and touch someone

My dull mind limits my imaginative trains of thought

Shuttered beyond daylight

Beyond recourse

Escape

From the mundanuity of each day

Escape being the operative word

As that is what we aspire to do best as a species

Distractions and stories

Amusements that keep reality at bay

Sanitised and pre-calculated for your feed

It rains in tinselly nuggets of information and fantasy

Stories to escape into and run with

And how do those stories run

Episodes and series of a more interesting life

Plus it’s cheaper to watch and escape

Though it is still easy to accidently spend more than one means on diversion and entertainment

Sucked back in

Better to feel some other sensation than continue to repeat

Ad nauseam

That hunger for sensation

And to simply avoid this reality

[adlib-spoken-written-thought]

What is it?

I’ve just written this and now I am not too sure how to describe it.

I guess it is about the likelihood of reality existing and us being in a form that apprears to understand some of it, even though reality is simply Chaos consisting of strands of infinite quantum energy shifting between multiple dimensions whilst an infinte amount of new universes are created by every subatomic event where there exists a probability of any other outcome; where we happen to continue to live in this one and have no knowledge of any other dimension.

And even though our existence is so rare and limited in scope and time we are still allowing corrupt mentally ill people, who in all probability are clinically psychopathic, to remain in power and destory our lives and our planet.

What is it all about man?

What is it?

The golden allure

Excitement of the dreamer’s paradise

The giddy thoughts of how intricately woven the lustre is of the fabric of life

Sheer wonder of being

Apart

Yet an airy glowing at the severe end of the strings face

Dancing with life

Alongside all other beings

United

Formed

Created from the very matter

Of time

After even stars have exploded

And condensate matter yet to coalesce

Out of a fracture

Of subatomic dust

Throughout space

Yet struck by such a cord

Lightning bursting up through the heavens

A beaming beacon

Amongst infinite parallel bubbles pressing

Enough to distort even what we call Reality

Universe experiencing universe

Quantum haze of vibrant infinite energy

Pulsing, throbbing, charging

Yet with a sick, crushing awareness

It can instantly distort and split and sift

A multidimensional shift and slide

And dart

Beyond the horizon

Beyond our eyes and mind

Our parallel lives

That radiate out from our centre

Exponentially universes form

From electrons shift

And conscious thought

Each choice

Or chance

An encounter of mind

Within creation

The observer watching

The potentially unconscious biologically symbiotic bacterial host

Is my awareness just an accident of interference?

As rivers of electrical and chemical signals permeate each cell

The illusion of I

One chance out of the infinite chaos of energy

The feeling of someone silently grading my efforts

Potentially myself

Do I talk to myself or them?

My audience

Or an indifferent ego half mad

With our civilized society’s madness

That craves change and the desire to be free of constraints

Rules made by other men

Stamped, sealed, approved

By hierarchy

Patriarchal world views dominate

Strangling our bruised raped goddess

Beautiful life giving Gaea

What chance in our version of the universe

In our time

One human lifetime

Are we really going to let cow eyed psychopaths rule and destroy

Life for profit

No expense spared

In human lives

Slaves die whilst permawar rages

When did we say that this was acceptable?

Yet we acquiesce

Guilty in the dock

When good men do nothing

Are we not at war?

Against enabled dogmatic ideological fascists

And their propaganda peddling industrial machine of death

Consuming all

For the benefit of the few

To voice these thoughts

Envisioning a path

For her I’ll sacrifice everything

Not just the promise of the soft golden touch

So fresh and enticing

There is work to do

So I’ll go quietly

And brightly forwards for us

[adlib-spoken-written-thought]

Warm my Soul

Was thinking how much a coffee can soothe me, warm me up and take the edge off reality. And it triggered this.

Warm My Soul

Cold feet and chilled hands

Cracking ribs like rows of splintering icicles

Bent past the pressured point of no return

Building a head of steam

To force a fissure

And scream

Left behind

Lost and abandoned like a child’s old favourite toy

Neglected surplus

Like cold hawked mucus spat into the grey curb

To settle in dust unseen

Invisible to the daily commuters

A soul clothed in dishevelled rags

Hands and knuckles

Papery flesh and the prominent white of bone

Hollow eyes glazed with memory

Intoxication in time and substance

Almost purely disconnected

Except for the bondage of hollow pain and loss drowning in the coldness of human despair

A shriek

A wail

Triggers a response not

A formless wraith

Existing only on the fringes

Of the awareness of humanity

What tragedies, what choices have befallen this man?

I watch the indistinct crowds flow past in compassionless oblivion

Too scared or tired or stressed

Too trapped in their own endless cycle of slavery and consumption

To reach out

My order is ready and I walk over

Sipping my coffee I extend a second cup in offer of friendship

He wraps two shivering hands around the warm container

Talk to me friend I say

[adlib-spoken-written-thought]

Illusions of Doubt

Worrying about things that in the grand scheme of things are irrelevant.

Illusions of Doubt

Gnawing doubt

Leaves my core hollowed

Incised

Stripped

Faith hangs by a few mere threads

Where did I go?

To be replaced by a balloon of fear

A gentle membrane separating dreams from nightmares

Subconsciously inflating through the forming of false ideas

Whirling thoughts

Adrift in this ever shifting sea of mist

To become entangled in tendrils of unrealised potentials

And Gasp

Imagining the cold depth’s pressure

But to blink and see clearly

With my mind’s eye

Breathing deeply

Fills my warm lungs

My feet flat and firmly to tread or stand

Grounded

Pouring the infinite vapour of love out of my heart

My cupped hand can clasp its substance

And mould its resilience

Remember this diamond form of reassurance

As you go forth into the world

You are both form and void

So fear not

I

Or any mirrored uncertainties

For self may be no more real

Than any harm presented by the illusion

[adlib-spoken-written-thought]

What must?

There was a certain amount of frustration building up inside me and after this came out I felt much better. :)

What Must?

Feeling flat and fucked off

Low down but not depressed, though hollow

Short tempered I soundlessly snap

Tearing limb from limb I imagine screaming

Be quiet

Go away from me

I am not interested

Ferociously recoiling

From touch, attention and affection

Why do you not understand?

Guiltily I judge my actions

They are not me

They simply want me over all people

Or to simply share my time

Or was it my choice to begin

Impatience within myself

Segments and shreds

With loathing

Willing of dismembering

The rotten sickness

That putrefies my body, mind and soul

Reviled

Casting doubt on my convictions

What must?

How bland and banal is my reality

The choices taste of ash

Gouging scathing eyes with embers

And pour bile decadently

Over the thrashing tortured death throes

Of the sorrowful mute

Now blinded and cut adrift

No longer the dreamer of dreams

[adlib-spoken-written-thought]

The Cotoneaster Blossoms

There was a tree in the garden that we were going to chop down. We started to lop branches off but stopped when we realised there were birds nesting in it. Suddenly during the summer it blossomed and for just one week it was covered with blossom and bees. No other tree was so full of life and it was so surprising after it had been so drab during the winter and spring. So it enspired this.

The Cotoneaster Blossoms

From dormant slumber

Once considered an invasive pest

Clothed in nature’s most drabbest of garbs

A moth like incognito

Camouflage so prosaic

She lives under a very real existential threat

Timber hewn and sawn

Pared back and formed

Crashing down lopped branches fall

Invisible to the ignorant human eye

A pastel clutch of an absent blackbirds eggs nestling gracefully undisturbed

Now

Bursting alive

The sun’s radiant essence has invigorated her

Ripe with the fullness of life she glows reflectively

Sticky

Moist

Exuding  

Honey wells exposed

Dusted with blushes

One can excite upon

Virginal petal lips protruding

Willing

The penetrating tongue

To feed on her ambrosial nectar

Need satiated

Sacks stuffed

Quantas of genetic code

Dust bursts and flurries

Wings, legs and bodies scrabble, buzz and dart

And alight

A haven within the chain of life

Intricate complexity

Waves

On and within the web of life

Gently rippling

Gracefully

The supple young mother lactates unashamedly

For she is only fulfilling her birthright

The choice, the decision

To carry and nurture life

Gifted and burdened

Herself

Their very being interwoven with earth

Motherhood

From and alongside

Gaea and her pale sister’s pull

On all who follow her seasons and cycles

[adlib-spoken-written-thought]

Travellers’ Cosmogony

Pros and cons Stay or go What holds us back from long term travel?

Potentially nothing.

Travellers’ Cosmogony

I wonder if I should wander

But what dreams will be built from these imaginings?

Pale grains of tumbling sand cascade

The raw glass fragments of broken dreams

Or displacement from depressions of my fates passage

Whirling, swirling bubbles and eddies

Walking in the rain to work stepping over running gutters

Or the dip of my paddle navigating round strewn boulders in the rivers path

The enhanced tastes of the exotic

Packaged, stale, sold and on sale in my local supermarket

Or fresh from the vendor’s van in an uncharted alley

Run the risks of having no plan

Just goals

Or meet targets, get paid and consume

Fresh faces, new photos, life experience

Or stay safe, be familiar, cocooned

Grow

Up                          Out

               Inwards

Or grow old gracefully aging never changing

Fear

The Unknown

Mind Kills

Yet the spirit soars

Connections mature

When barriers are overcome

People, My Kin, Deep Nature

Gods of the Cosmos

The Same

[adlib-spoken-written-thought]

Shit

I overuse swearwords. I find that they have replaced a lot of my descriptive vocabulary. Sometimes this can have a comic factor and sometimes it is frustrating that I am not more able to elucidate in greater detail. This was a take on what the word shit might mean in a similar vein to Monty Python’s uses of the word fuck sketch.

Shit

The bar itself looked the shit

Too bad that the DJ couldn’t mix for shit

And his choice of tunes were pretty shit too

Tonight we all felt like we were the shit

And the ladies with little effort looked absolutely shit hot

The price of the tab towards the end of the night was a bit shit

I muttered under my breath “shit!” is this shit for real?

After raking all of the shit out of our pockets we covered that shit ok

Some loud guys were talking shit near us

Shit suddenly got serious with agro and fighting like they were going to kick the shit out of each other

“You’re shitting me?”

“I shit you not”

Because my wee crew is tight as soon as we saw the shit go down, shit got real as we got our shit together and we stepped in to pacify the two shits, before shit got too out of hand like.

The fellas apologised and the bar manager gave us a round of free drinks, “That shit was amazing!”

He said

We picked up our complimentary shots and knocked that shit back

Sometimes in life shit can go one way or the other and you just have to learn how to roll with that shit dude

[adlib-spoken-written-thought]

Rule No#37

Rule #32 from Zombieland is to just enjoy the little things. It’s a great mantra for life.

Well I missremembered it as Rule #37 so it inadvertantly became a mantra for my own life.

I find that it is the little things that make life worth living. Certainly they are the things I enjoy everyday whilst my larger plans and schemes get jostled by everyday events that are out of my control.

Rule No#37

Rule no. 37

Enjoy the little things

Fresh coffee with cream

Hot chips on a cold day

Sharing sushi with friends

The aroma of perfectly ripe fruit

A view that captivates

Mesmerised by aerodynamic swallows

A close embrace

The reward of effort

To see a loved one happy

A pet welcoming you home

Watch your child become an adult

Freshly cut grass

Pre-eminent rain drops hitting warm asphalt

Walk through forests scented with resin

Feel the sand between your toes

To be warm

To splash and swim and play

To relax and just take it all in

Because that’s what life is