Wednesday, 27 February 2019

Bittersweet

I bathe in the bittersweetness
of ill sons
and bereaved friends
and strangers connecting
and and and
old friends back on track
and death in life
and birth after death
and the limitations of language
and the beauty of words
and pain with depth
and the realness of me
and all this turning upside down
and creation from destruction
and who'd have thought it
and I wouldn't have guessed
and we know so much
and we know so little

and the bittersweetness
sits in my heart
and pulls at my heartstrings
(you know we have heartstrings)
and I'm in love with it all
and I wouldn't want anything less
and I'm not looking for anything more

I bathe in bittersweetness,
that tang in the heart that leaves nothing to do
and nowhere to go
and the tears run down my cheeks
and one drops from the end of my nose
and I can't pretend that I don't love it all
and that this isn't what my heart was made for

Sunday, 30 September 2018

The Second Coming

The meek shall inherit the earth. 

Quake in your boots:
Those who presume on the souls or bodies of others
Those who assume title, rank or reign
Those who betray heart-filled goodness,
Those who sunder the flesh of innocents to feed the maws of greed
Such vile, violent treason.

Quake in your boots:
The meek are rising to reclaim the earth 
This is the second coming. 



Sunday, 29 October 2017

It Is Not Necessary

It is not necessary to demean yourself
Or to dramatize your life
(it is not a fiction
and neither are you).

The proliferation of things has brought us scant riches.

I grieve for the poverty of plenty,
for the ignorance of knowledge. 

Our souls do not long for complication. 

True nourishment is simple fare:
taste, touch, smell, sound, sight. 

The heart loves
The mind thinks
The stomach digests
You are the perfect orchestration of being,
an instrument of wonder. 

(It is not necessary to demean yourself). 


Wednesday, 6 September 2017

To Whom It May Concern

Stop. Just stop. 
Stop warring, aggressing and fighting. 
Stop pontificating, aggrandizing and diminishing. 
Stop consuming like you do
and stop despoiling the earth. 

Stop denying and lying. 
Stop killing, maiming, torturing, abusing and raping. 
Stop bullying, cajoling, intimidating, threatening, endangering.
Stop competing, favouring, trumpeting, boasting. 
Stop manipulating, disempowering, swindling and profiteering.
Stop terrorizing.like you do. 
You know who you are. 

Stop. Just stop. 

Sunday, 2 April 2017

Still Standing

Without self-pity
Standing still, 
and still standing
having with-stood those waves
that threaten to obliterate:
shame, pain, grief. 

I simply stand
Not bowing, but willing
A stand neither rigid nor flaccid

I Am:
no more, no less. 

Water and rock,
we flow and contain
we are motion and stillness both.

All this life already come and gone,
and still you stand
because You Are:
no more, no less. 



Monday, 23 January 2017

The Walls of Jericho

What if we died to division,
to my-way-or-the-highway,
to squabbles, large or small,
to she-said-he-said,
feelings, good or bad
or memories, ditto?

What if we died to the sacred cows
of suffering, pleasure and pain,
to yes-but, if-only and not-now?

What if we died to the whole shebang?
To buying and selling,
to preaching and prostrating,
to taking a stance,
making a claim, or
having an opinion (right)
which makes yours (wrong)?

What if we stopped
and the walls of Jericho fell?

Saturday, 21 January 2017

Iconoclasm

Body and soul were cleft,
cathedrals built on the bones of women
and wombs made unclean
Creation stemmed and stymied
by the sheer pain of denying that flesh is spirit

We went from true communion among us
to looking up to some idea of god

It is not that you are not your body,
for your body is the most sublime creation of what you are -
creativity made flesh
so that it may create -
Your constant companion through all your travails
The bearer of your sorrows

Worship not god but hand, eye, foot, breast
The true bringers of love and sustenance

Dismantle your temples and shrines
Make your icons ordinary
Tend to the divine in your midst

This wound runs deep in us all.