Countdown To Gratitude

COUNTDOWN TO GRATITUDE

7 – Losing you woke me screaming
6 – The screaming subsided
5 – Took a look around
4 – Discovered I’m
3 – Even so
4 – Still here
1 – Whole
0 – Boundlessness … ness … ness …

Terminal

TERMINAL

The conductor cries out
“End of the line! All change!”
Passengers wake up
Look round for their possessions
But no pockets in a shroud

The Art Of Erasure

THE ART OF ERASURE

Tried to make statements
The more we perfected it
The more we said less

Memoirs

MEMOIRS

A story or two
They’d tell out
These folded fingers
If gifted a fresh blush of
Lips, palate, tongue

A blessing this perhaps
Or rather more a curse
Or better still the both
A confession, an absolution
Each sat astride its mirror

Hubris swallowed, spat out
These crablike fingers
Clutching at straws
While nearby a camel
Patiently awaits a breaking

Oh, what a story
They would spill
Then two then three
Then four than five
These mottled fingers

Playing The Fool

PLAYING THE FOOL

Attraction
Then attachment
Even knowing better now
I remember it well

The Big Choice

THE BIG CHOICE

Time to realise
that fundamental question
your inner voice asks
will never be “Yes or no?”
But rather “Now or later?”

The Achievement

THE ACHIEVEMENT

The travellers’ goal is not
To gain some something
Which they do not have
But that of relinquishing
That which they are not

Weather Or Know

WEATHER OR KNOW

Hard rains sweep by
Rinse soiled streets clean
Brief respite though
Hark, the next deluge
Of turbid effluence
Generously gifted
By the thoughtless

Slumbering in simplicity
No fearful encounters
In radiant solitude
Wherein to acknowledge
Realisation’s spiky burdens
And consoling gifts
Onward, onward, comrades

To oblivion
And no beyond
Hooves strike faster now
Valley of death looms
Engorging black hole
Rolling thunder clap
Hard rains sweep by

No encore

Wonderful (Full Of Wonder)

WONDERFUL (FULL OF WONDER)

Too long a time stuttering in monoflex
Stuck down in here’s back o’ beyond
Buried deep, deafened by multitudes
Of fears, of hopes, desires, imaginings
Vain vicissitudes and comeuppances
Blew through explosively, wonderfully
Announcing preaching days are over
Took flight, the sky’s the limitless limit

Pilgrims

PILGRIMS

Coming and going
Without going anywhere
Time an illusion
Space likewise passing the time
Our home is not made by hand