Thursday, October 30, 2008

The river and the stone

It's the season now of melt down
and even solid ice must know
to thaw the edges of withdrawal
and bring the inner out.

But I'm not ice; I'm just a "me"
who melted into love
and seek still now to find the air
though yet I breathe in/out.

I remain like stone immovable
from the point of my descent
but that is not unusual
for one who knows to stay
faithful to the spirit
that flows within unseen.

But you, the one who doesn't know,
aligns with rivers everywhere
and that's not bad except you stay
stuck within the banks of time
unmindful of the need
to escape imprisonment.

So the faithful and the unfaithful
commune on common ground
together but so far apart
that the chasm never crossed.

This chasm broadens every day
and it's like it has to be
to dislodge the stone from truth
and send it tumbling quite bereft
into the arms of death.

But ‘tis just the death of love
and rivers and the stone know well
they won't commune again
because stones and rivers cannot walk
across a chasm, see?

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Okay, fine

The day holds no promise yet still it is day.
Life is unpleasant yet still it is life.
Love has no touch yet still it is love
and "yet still" positions the whole damn lot
right on the edge of okay.

The edge is a line drawn to the side
off centre and angled away from desire
and bold, so bold, it makes a good place
to attract and hold the whole human race.

On the brink of this line everyone's fine
in rush and scurry to ensure there's no time
to glitter the surface with bits of a heart
and spread and sprinkle onto the blank part.

But a day in a life without love is fine;
this too shall pass with the blink of an eye
yet still it's a bother because then comes another
and another, another, another.

The line circles, you see, like a net of dis-ease
and traps inside the essence of feel
but, "Hi, how are you?
"Okay thanks and you?"
"Fine, just fine, I'm always fine" ~
and the parcel is passed until I walk away
from the game of life everyone plays!

Tuesday, October 21, 2008


Clouds always creep up from the rear
like the natural march of indifference
intent on a search and destroy
of the sky's so heavenly blue.

It's a silent but deadly approach
like the reality of a ghost
unseen but felt and known to be
an ineffective and useless guard
at the heart's unmarked border post.

So crosses indifference speedy and swift
into the haven of love's settled state
a warrior, gunman, thief, murderer,
in rampant and raging disregard
for what is intended to be.

And the sky that once vibrant and blue
succumbs to a dim and dull overlay
like the eyes of love once fearlessly clear
now brushed with the strokes
of complete indifference.

Flutter, flutter, and I flutter eyelids
simply today to no avail
because indifference begets indifference
in terms of section one hundred and three
of the perceived playact of life!

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Love's ride

I never thought that life could be
a one-sided pleasure ride
but, yes, ‘tis so when love
from up front drives the train
and never thinks to mingle
with its passengers.

It's like its mission not denied
is to carry us somewhere
perhaps to fantasy or simply into dreams
wherein we chat and harmonize
as if love is really real.

Oh, it travels all the byways,
lets us view the scenery,
and when we think that this is "it"
love accelerates and goes
wherever it decides.

It's not for me to question why,
it's not for me to cry,
because love is driving, don't you know,
from way beyond my sight
and like all drivers lets me think
it's going to stop in time.

It doesn't though; it travels on
to not let me alight
so all who think to leave
must simply jump and crash land
into the rough of humankind.

When done one simply walks the line
more slowly than the ride
and picks up little bits and bobs
to fill a box of tricks
for ‘tis trickery to think
love's ride mean spirited.

Love drives the train, I think to jump,
I think to stay inside,
but mostly I'm the lazy kind
who wants an easy ride
to the end of my lifetime!

Sunday, October 12, 2008

The ache of love

And as the silence of renewal
o'er lays what used to be
I look back and remember love
with a deep embedded ache.

It's a pain of such intensity
no one should have to bear
but it doesn't grow to overtake
the forward movement of a life
like a shattered spinal column
keeps one immobilised.

It's simply there like skin and hair
to be moisturized and brushed
when it starts to dry and crack
and become unmanageable.

But no one says, "Ah-ha, I see
you've creamed and put asunder
what night has brought again to light
from the dark of daily life."

We just daily groom it out of sight
like something meant to be
and even I can't stay as love
when embroiled in life's betrayal.

So then the ache embedded deep
becomes something we refuse to feel
and mind the victor once again
takes a bow on centre stage ~
and all of this is meant to be
so the prophets say.

But prophets, sages, and the like
are really just like you and me
finding grace within the night
and dispelling it in daily life!

Monday, October 6, 2008

Within the air

Love's desire travels high
and lands within my response
but I know of spirit minds
and how they do what no man does
down here on the ground.

It's like that mind a thing apart
from mortal flesh and bone
to work within my body, heart,
the magic of desire
that makes its presence known
in the midst of daily life.

So, yes, I know and am aware
of the mysterious unseen
that lives and loves within the air
as a human's meant to do
but now I disassociate
for the need is far too great
to not be honoured, satisfied,
down here on the ground.

I pity spirit minds and me
who seek to join and know the feel
of immortal love
because down here on the ground
most believe in different things
like the same old, same old, system
put in place to suffocate
what is meant to live.

I'm on the ground a woman old
but not too old to honour love
within the time-frame of this life
but I've turned and will keep turning
from the invisible ...
but that's not to say I do not know
love lives and loves within the air!

Saturday, October 4, 2008


I've seen a rainbow, seen the stars, and embraced true love deep in my heart and now when life is soon to end I know what was won't come again.

There is no rainbow end of grace that will repeat again, again, the wonder of love's face and touch upon my human state.   The stars that once lit up the sky will not remain within the mind and keep a woman, man, and child in thoughts of God's pure holy light.

But, of course, the end is yet unseen; this still remains a mystery but it seems to me there cannot be a re-run of my history.  I take the staff, the compass, map, because I can in mental realms plan a journey, trip, voyage, that leaves the rainbow, stars, and heart buried in the long lost past.

‘tis a plan I have in place to be not one to suffer life's dis-ease or be as one abandoned, lost, in a world of fickle love.  I'll miss the birds and bees, the trees, but not the "you" not loving me and so the vision hazy first sharpens and becomes the means to not return again.

‘tis thought that activates the deed of no return into the feel of human foibles, you and me, and all the need that churns and whirls when love denied and sacrificed!

Thursday, October 2, 2008

A moment of love

There was a moment within the moments
of all the moments I've lived
that huffed and puffed like a lone wolf
on the prowl for breakfast, lunch, dinner,
and so it blew on my heart of stone
and surprisingly laid it to waste.

It wasn't fair to come so near
to completing my moments in tact
because moment by moment
I was going somewhere
just as I'd always been.

With then no heart to call my own
I yet had a solid foundation
but everyone knows love has no walls
and to re-build a heart no easy task
without the construct of barriers.

Day by day now I polish, refine,
the foundation and essence of love
after the wash with free-flowing tears
of my longing for you
because I cannot polish my moments now
until what was and won't be again
has been finally placed in the past.

Now with nothing to blow away
the wolf no longer huffs and puffs
but each/every moment of the moments I live
I'm aware of the movement of air
that not on the outside but deep within
makes me still love that moment of love!

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

The heart of love

‘tis the heart of love that mourns
and cries the tears of need
silently within the self
no one has access to.

And not to say it goes away
amidst a fulsome life
or changes form and mutates
into something less
as the years accumulate
one upon another.

‘tis the heart of love that knows
to keep it in a safe place
while turned it is by destiny
to look upon another face.

And not to say the heart of love
can't o'er lay the grief
with a different kind of feel
and it's called in modern parlance
the moving on from love.

But ‘tis the heart of love
that must move beyond the grave
for there perhaps another face
and another sense of grace
will capture and hold sway
over all of life's dismay.

Perhaps, perhaps!  Perhaps I make it so
by the thinking and the planning
of a future that I presently
don't even know I'll have!