Thursday, October 31, 2019

Muddling


No one knows the struggles
Behind the progress we display
Insecure and faking it
The masks that hides dismay
To steer a course for brighter shores
The fine path that we blaze
Navigate the unthinkable
Opaque, veiled in haze
Life in a nutshell
Leaves us a little crazed
No one makes it through this life unphased
Remember those years of innocence
Before we ever learned
About control or jealousy?
Before fingers got themselves burned
Nurture trust that eats like rust
Weakening the soul
Accept the things that I can change
Release what I can’t control
The messenger with an allegory
The parables learn and teach
The waves that ebb and ripple the sand
That collects beneath our feet

I saw you and you saw me
But did we ever really know?
Caught and carried by the winding river flow
Destiny and destinations
Real but also perceived fake
Walk on water, wintertime
Summer fall into the lake
I can tread water timelessly
But I would rather swim
Depths and layers, unfathomable
Insecure in your own skin

Abrasions on the elbows
As we climb for higher ground
Try to drink in the beauty that surrounds
I know where I come from
I know now where I’m at
Life is more about the lessons learned
Yet we sit here growing fat
I seek the movement, cradle rock,
That soothes us while we sleep
Lament missed opportunities
Savor the ones we reap
I’ve no clue where I’m headed
And with that, I feel ok,
As long as there is another day
I can see the beauty
Though vision sometimes blurs
Obscured by the vulgar
And reactions of a cur
Try to keep your head above
The waters volume’s flow
Now I know that I’m here
Direct me where to go

The universe is a fickle thing
We’ll never understand
A beach that made up of grains of sand
The rocks erode and crumble
Beneath aquatic flow
I know I’m here, impermanence,
but don’t know where to go

I feel frightened and excited
Simultaneously
Bend, yield like a windswept tree
Roots set solid in the earth
Fixed to where I’m found
Half our life is buried underground
Winter rips the leaves away
Endure a bitter sleep
Await the spring when
The sap begins to creep

Life restored
Stand on solid footing
The land that shapes the shore
Surrounded by a beauty you can’t ignore
Time is so transient
Yet you feel like standing still
Must make momentum and movement
And never lose our will.

Edmonton, AB, Canada




Tuesday, October 29, 2019

Disdain for Winter


Disdain for Winter

Crispness cuts
Beneath my clothes
Burning ears and frozen nose
Thoughts transpose from summer mind
To winter’s grip and fold
The cold in my bones
Never abates
The mercury plunge;


Need to alleviate
The short dark days
With some sort of light of my own
The things in life we can’t control:
Getting sick or growing old
The weather and seasons past
Continuous momentum
Seems frozen, fast
The wrong moments lasting forever
This is how perception lies
Wind teared up, watery eyes
Being present, breath,
Nose drips on glove, slid on sleeve


The Tao teaches to go with the flow
Trapped in the cracks of ice-dammed river road
Paddles useless
Walk on water
Ego complex, messianic muse;
Waiting for the Spring
Which never really came this year,
Summer too
Dark, wet drear


Waiting for that time of year
For sun’s warmth upon my aging visage
Of singing birds and magpies call
So my limbs flow freely
Instead of stiff and dry
Thoreau’s Walden, Genesis’ Eden
The places I want to go
Walk along the Oceanside in San Diego or Mexico

A place of warmth, compassion and harmony
To mind the season’s as they come and go
The tuft of sheepdog fur
Massaged by my hand
Sat beneath full foliaged tree
A book, a drink, held in my hand
Blowing blooms of cloud into blue sky, free
And sit in the circle,
An equal part-
Not the begin or middle
The sound of kettle on the hob
Of bodhrans, pipes, guitars and fiddles
Away from the traffic’s roar
And congested streets which I deplore
The society that can be such a whore…


Need to alleviate
The short dark days
With some sort of light of my own
Nature is my source
To fan the spark is desirable,
With the right person of course!
Who will come with me along this way
Endure both bright and dismal day
To find piece in the affray
The heights of passion, lows of dismay?


Winter, welcome, again my terse old friend
Who marks the finality of Summer-Fall’s end
May the weary world rest while fixed
Within your grip
Until Springtime starts it’s hopeful drip
To bloom and blossom back to life
And mark the end of winter’s strife
As crispness cuts
Beneath my clothes
Burning ears and frozen nose
Grateful for every ounce of warmth
That radiate from parka, a smile
And the hope of acceptance.

Fan the spark into a flame; to light my way
And incandescence fill my being
As the universe guides my way
Stiff but yield unto icy current
Until a steady flow restores itself,
Unstuck,
And I begin to move freely once again.


Edmonton, AB, Canada













Thursday, October 24, 2019

Thoughts On the Second Anniversary of My Mother’s Death


Two years today
You returned to the source;
Mother, from whence I came
My origins contained
In the crematorium urn; reminder of
Our dusty nature-
How parts of us emit about our world, clinging to all that we encounter;
Always leaving some of our selves.
The sperm and egg that begat my flesh and bone;
The universal spirit slides
Intentions and abundance
This is our life; brief in this case, vase, this form, this vehicle
But long after the dust is sealed by sandy tegument
Or polished, smooth urn rests
Our actions; our only true possession
Carries a legacy;
The DNA/RNA weave, serpent like ouroboros
Rainbows and rain; flowers mashed by manic storms
Slamming seeds into earth;
Violence of the big bang begets the beauty that abounds
In the brevity that is our moment; connecting us all
Immortal.


Edmonton, AB, Canada



Wednesday, October 23, 2019

The Bittersweet of Getting On…


Sit inside
Black outside
early morning
Pane
reflects my image and fluorescent light
Glare glazes out the stars
The morning black as night
Simplest of all similes
The smoothness of the glass
Clues cast cloudy imagery- curvature
The lens I wear to read and write words
The one that blocks the winter wind
The one that says the earth is flat
And there’s no one reasonable to defend
My coffee cup
Sits there steaming
Sat upon my desk
Distracting me from everything
JFW’s Infinite Jest
How come so much bitterness,
And not more bittersweet?
Smell the scent of burning toast
Time to be getting on…..


Edmonton, AB Canada



Monday, October 21, 2019

Peaceful Journey


Each footfall
Is where you are going
The contradiction of movement and the present
Frames flicker as each moment
Begets the next; perpetual being
Briefly then gone but
Still here, caught from cagey eye corner
The complexity of motion when the present
Remains constant but
Nothing is standing still…. What matter is it whether my sole strikes
Mountain summit? Beginning, ending or middle of the trail?
Here is where we will always be
And Shiva destroys our illusions
Of permanence; “All that remains the same is change
Om namah Shiviya
To be unsettled; to settle;
Convention’s contradictions
Always moving but always here
The dimensions helix-serpent coil around matter and thought
Wherein there is light
Penetrating dark
To be and not to be and to be again
Breath’s perpetual mating with universe
Until last one is drawn and we disperse;
Shape shift of form
Into new configurations;
No dying, death; all is life in flux
The great illusion we call life;
Often a tormentor, as we view through
Gushing water; rapids on the retina; emotions defining us
When they should be cast into the salient sea of tears
But, when we encounter the clarity of peace
Through pranayama – the breath unites us secure
And we can see that we have both always and never been;
The illusions of our perceptions flirtations with reality
And through the moments we reincarnate an infinite cycle
Within a universe that has created us and all things;
Breathe, be, see the light
That our life-force is; our truest nature;
Free of body and possession –  Spirit fueled
Shalom, salam, shanti, peace

Edmonton, AB, Canada

Friday, October 18, 2019

Breath of Being


Breath of Being


Follow the breath;
Friction of inhale
Through nose lining, warm and chaffing throat
With a gentleness like the river that flows through the valley;
Lungs expand with
Elastic tension, a tepid humidity, rising chest lifting torso
As if a balloonist rises in their craft
Belly inflates like a balloon
Hold and release…release
In the positive and universal energy-
Exhale, disseminating the stress and shards of self
Back into
Infinite universe
To be re-charged
And join with the whole.
This connects me to you and eradicated space;
Joined as one;
Our minds and energy navigate
The flurry of elements conjoining all things
We are one
Connected by space,
United in breath
Connected through our energy
And our part within the circle’s infinite loop
That which divides us
Is as much an illusion
As all life tends to be;
The projector of our narrative;
The ego-self
That makes many believe
We are the circle’s center
Like the finger inside a ring
Separate from the object, easily removed
But denial begets not truth
And our beliefs are subjective to our journey
And we must realise
The worthlessness of material things
In our self-completion;
Our perspective shifts back to the breath
And that which unites;
The light… the light….
The light within us all
Requires the breath
As we are the fuel, hope sparks our fire
The breath fans the passion for life
And illuminates
To illustrate
The beauty in and of all things.
Follow the breath;
Friction of inhale
Through nose lining, warm and chaffing throat
With a gentleness like the river that flows through the valley;
Lungs expand with
Elastic tension, a tepid humidity, rising chest lifting torso
As if a balloonist rises in their craft
Belly inflates like a balloon
Hold and release…release
In the positive and universal energy-
Exhale, disseminating the stress and shards of self
Back into
Infinite universe
To be re-charged
And join with the whole.


Edmonton, AB, Canada



Tuesday, October 15, 2019

I Am Water


Rain drop to river joins,
Routed to the sea
The drop journeys
But stays self-same
One can not be lost
When to the source
We are rejoined
Though our salientness
May alter and our
Temperature may adjust by degrees
Even when solid ice or wafting steam;
Mist or fog
The drop remains itself
The memory of water
Imprinted with silt and varied terrain;
Demonstrates to stone the stronger
Where soft sacrifices the solid, stone
Erode and shaping landscape
But without malice
For the flow and motion is what we are,
Like landscapes ever changing
Forced upon flames to extinguish the furnace of fires flickering energy
Spread into the atmosphere, the universe,
Earth, air and ocean
There within it all
A constant
The self free of rigidity
As even the most
Solid of ice surrenders itself
After holding for a short while
Vapor, condensation, the drop reforms
Falling to the earth,
Flow to the river
And join the sea
This is our unity
The whole that binds is as well
The surging surf or refreshing shower
The nourishments to all living things
I am water
Eternal I shall flow.

Edmonton, AB, Canada



Friday, October 11, 2019

Nietzsche on the Mountain


The abyss stares harshly
Back at me
Just like Nietzsche said
Tried to climb the mountaintop
Now I cling, slight slip
I’m dead
You pushed me forth
Up to the peak but
Pushed me off the ledge
Crimping on my only hold
Into manikin crack, fingers wedged
The crag is cold
The wind is harsh
The altitude is steep
No matter how hard I try
I don’t understand
The fate I’ve reaped
Rocks crumble
Like my spirit
Awash in cascading scree
The air is thin
I cannot breath
Envious of the trees
That cling to cliff
With little soil
Little nurturing do they enjoy
I should have so much more
In this life – not possessions- but qualitative joy
As I fall into the void
They bend and withstand
Taoist in their nature
Spiny needles are blades to the brutal breezes
That scorch and scour
Cut and gouge raw the resilient rock
These metamorphic walls
My bloodied fingers can set me free; release-
Can’t endure this futility
The falling flight
Would make me free
For a final fatal moment
We love life not because
We are used to living but
Because we are used to loving
Is what Nietzsche said
But I am not a superman
Already I feel dead
“No one can construct
For you
The bridge upon which
Precisely you must cross
The stream of life,
No one
But yourself
Alone” said Fred
Whatever is done for love
Always occurs beyond
Good and evil
But it’s love or “love” that stranded me here
Clinging for what,
I don’t even know anymore
One can promise actions,
But not feelings,
For the latter are involuntary.
He who promises to love forever,
Hate forever or be forever faithful
To someone is promising something
That is not in his power
Thus Nietzsche spake
He went mad, meandering mountain moraine and passage tracks
I feel myself follow in his tread
Stepping in shit, to where I now hang
And cling and cry for reprieve
To be relieved
Of the heaviness flexing my fingers
And pressuring waxy palms
Slipping,
scraped and scabbed
Burned by the glacial reflected sun
This is all too familiar
Too familiar
Too familiar to me.


Edmonton, AB, Canada




Tuesday, October 8, 2019

Break-up



 Numbed mind
Feels little pain
Vacuum of emptiness
And rejection stings
Like a fish hook in the heart
Brutally ripped free.
The fight has been long; a half a century
Hooked, led, let-down lies
Wooden spoons and spit and abuse
Never good enough for anyone,
Not even myself
Some see beauty, they don’t see the sweatshop floor
Where long hours laboring
Without light; cramped knuckles, bruised from
Beating the walls of such a confined space.
This is where I have been produced and where I am deposited, worthless, every evening-
This has been my life; a product no one wants;
Like all things – disposable
Even my boot finds that single mound of shit
Upon which to tread within a vast field from man’s best friend;
Symbol for my life
Trying to see the beauty;
But everything lets me down;
Too many facts for this to be just self-pity
So why do I continue; persist – carry forward?
Because it’s all I know.
There isn’t a drag deep enough or a bottle with sufficient volume
To make me ok;
Chocking on them as I do platitudes and well-meant messages of:
Hang in there, you’re so great, look at all you have…
….to have…
I have material wealth and moderate health, save the PTSD
But our actions are our only possession;
Relationships and experiences are what truly bring life joy
And that is where my deprivation sits,
Smothering my mindful breaths.
My introvert mind;
Blinded and terror of shallow small talk
I need substance;
A life like a rich novel
Where is the evidence to love one’s self
When no one else seems to? Don’t they see
This brutal contradiction?
So much lip service and inspirational quotes that
Simply affirm your brokenness…
I wish I could adjust healthily to this profoundly sick society; but,
Like Krishnamurti says, that is not a measure of good health.
I don’t care. I want to be stupid and live blindly
Because being awake only leads
To greater disappointment
And unreachable dreams
…can’t afford to dream, can’t afford not to
So for now I just am. Let
The ocean
Take me on its ebb and flow;
Toss me through the current
To either drown or wash up on a distant shore
Well beyond the earth’s curve
Away from all and myself
To crave the peace of the drowning man,
But my body isn’t ready for that quite yet
The cuttings of my remains remain on the floor,
Hoping someone will collect my scraps and transform them into something joyful,
Loved and living;
My scraps are tattered yet rich.
In all things there lies potential;
Stitch me up, tattoo my story with the needle
And, just perhaps, a light will turn on and I
Will see Confucius’ message that
Everything has its beauty, but not everyone see it
It transformed the albatross laden Mariner
In Coleridge’s Rhyme,
But my albatross still weighs heavily on my neck
Dropping like lead into the sea not quite yet
As Life and Death roll the dice
And I remain to tell of this wretched tale.

Edmonton, AB, Canada