Shining threads

Shining threads

Thursday, 15 December 2011


The bigger your vision, the wider your head opens until the atoms of your being unite with all who share your smiling dream.

The stars all tell tales of the adventures of their own revolving children.

Our universe is only one story of many and within each one an infinity of stories which find common ground when illuminated by a redemptive light.

Our life is meaningless yet meanings hinge on each particularity personal to us, so our eyes which track the pathways (in front and behind) see and interpret uniquely. This is freedom, to be reclaim our sovereignty from the hands of oppressors - a candle unto ourselves and holding our own light up to the sun, along with all the other bearers of hope, of beauty, of glory, of thrill.

We are the ones that kept going, the ones that kept chinks open in our minds, the ones that looked beyond surface appearance, the ones who searched, the ones who found enough, sometimes just scraps, sometimes an abundance to keep the journey in motion.

We are the fruits of our labour, the children of our savouring of life's sweet nectar, extracted from the terrors of a world that can be bitter and together we write the pages of the fulfillment of our dreams.

Question the question mark

Question the question mark - the curve and the line and the dot.

Question the clouds and the wind and notions of beginning and end.

Be in the middle, unfolding.

Unfolding the mystery train.

See the layers we live by -

the accumulated assumptions of our society.

Look at me.

Look at your judgements.

Look at me again.

Do this for everyone.

Look again and again and again.

Shift your perception so

it sees both sides simultaneously.

We see lives.

So many people.

All people with a life.

A trajectory.

Each life is open and has a question mark

whose answer is partly determined by you.

Stay in your power and responsibility.

Be the curve, the line and the dot.

Tuesday, 13 December 2011


The guy baffles me. Diametrically opposed. My nemesis. He delivers an anti-kiss. Refuses to pay a debt. And my world is rocked. Way out of proportion.

My dreams say stay cool. He's just trying to provoke you - this is just a test. Some things don't make sense. That dimension which does not respond to reason.

Too many seasons have passed. Way too many and now I see a clearing ahead. My head has cleared and I no longer make excuses for people who deserve no excuses.

Our dealings were outside the law and so we make our own rules. I find out how I fare in the jungle where there are no officials to protect me. Dylan said - 'if you live outside the law, you must be honest' and I have layers of honesty, that's for sure. But to let it cut all the way down takes massive courage and faith. To see clearly what is not true is to dismantle the foundation of this world and stand on virgin ground.

To really speak the truth is to live in a constant rebirth. Uncover lost dimensions from the earth which we were treading on all along but got lost in this edifice of pavement and phones, yearning for saviours and the latest ring-tone, when actually all we have is ourselves, having unpeeled the layers that hide us from our own being.

Unveiling the spiritual existence that is existence - nothing different to what was always here, just now it makes sense - whereas before we either craved or denied which add up to much the same.

So I stand here and he stands there (on the same ground - herethere). Two very different paths. Different values. Different futures perhaps yet unfinished business keeps some cords still intact.

I see the possibility of redemption in anyone since I've been down to the bottom rock - yet not all want to climb up and not all will.

Just as some people can take a punch so some can bury their sin and carry on forth. Guilt only weighs heavy on those sensitive enough to tune in.

For all I know (and I know this is not true but for poetry's sake) he might have led a blameless life, save for this one infraction. Something told him not to repay. To leave me out in the cold. Some instinct which allows him an arch cruelty which he would not dare inflict on others.

So having asked, having nagged, having angered, having forgiven, having scolded and appealed again. I stand without answers and look him in the face. A non-dual state is the end of all quests. Where we are as much part of the seen as the other. We sculpt our characters through the choices of our lives and hang the result in the gallery of humanity. So be it.

Sunday, 11 December 2011

The magical veil

The visual is the way through,

the magical veil which we cannot dismantle,

but must both penetrate

and open to

in a simultaneous pose

of participation

and surrender,

so we can touch and be touched by its richest treasures,

of which we are each one particularity.

We are bearers of our own discrete veil,

lamps of the divine,

in a field of lights,

some nothing more than smouldering embers,

smothered by other concerns;

others ablaze with ferocious glory -

our open end to be a unique strand

in a kaleidoscopic tapestry,

weaving our broken beauty

into a path that heals

in its collective magnificence.

A poetic massage

She gives poetic massages -
tongue flickering
across the contours of his lithe body.

Enlivened by literary darts,
sent forth from her lips,
to caress his receptive skin
and penetrate deep into his cellular structure,
hitting the subatomic target called

'erotic mystery'

that no scientist has discovered
outside the bedroom
and their own instinctual field.

Their meeting,
between the pages of a grand narrative,
author(s) unknown,
and partly penned by themselves,
embodies all the qualities of their deepest yearnings,
that their conscious minds were miserably unable to map out.

Only poetry,
only the transfiguring of language,
the lifting of the ordinary,
to a sacralised space,
can satisfy the primal joy-urge
of humanity's being.

Saturday, 3 December 2011

The tunnel of light

There is no light at the end of the tunnel.

Get on board the train, give up hope and enjoy the ride.

It's all light!