On today’s menu
Pain, Hawks, Sea shore, joy, equanimity, writing poetry again, title piece from: my favourite dreams are of the sea
At first it was a bit sporadic but eventually
The lapse between pain and non-opposing
Grew shorter
Instead of zing-fuck
It became zing-oh you again
Managing what is VS seeking comfort
~~~~
This mornings
Red hawk
Unfurls herself
Slowly into flight
Funny how something so big
Remains unnoticed until in motion.
~~~
Where do they happen
Where do they go
Where do they come from
With Within Without – “Me”
Don’t know Don’t want Don’t need
Thoughts.
~~~~~
Mercy Plea
If I listen
I’d hear my own heart
A weakness which would put me vulnerable
To every heartless thing I’ve done
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I don’t know where it comes from
This turbulent impatience
Attachment to results
A wish that my writing made a “difference”
That people found it got it responded to it.
Or is it something else
An exhaustive ache pain
Redundant days after days
Seeming peaceful but inherently futile.
I’m where it comes from
Me
What do I do about that?
Old man blues what can you do?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Equanimity key
Resolution for suffering
Enabler of movement instead of entrenched rigidity
Breathe in What Is
Exhale movements with What Is.
Equanimity free from emotional reactions activity is infused with wisdom
~~~~~~~~~~~
Today for the first time in forever I wrote. Working some poems from my manuscript My Favourite Dreams Are of the Sea. I wasn’t getting it ready to send out, I’ve no one to send it to. I just found myself sitting with it. Started with a basic full word do edit and then began to read and work them. Getting to the first three. The changes presented themselves effortlessly. I had no doubt over every deleted word, lines even stanza each brought out the natural shine of the piece. It was a nice steady enjoyment of writing poetry again. Left me looking forward to tomorrows session and able to allow myself that luxury.
So here’s the title piece ~
My Favourite Dreams Are of the Sea
Sky so bright it can’t be looked at
water dark and deep
the sky bends down in envy
I am alone in this wide-open ocean
absent from any shore line
knowing as I lie back she will not let me fall.
Barefoot playing on the beach sand castles built tall as my self
and now with my pail make a way so mermaids who have been watching
can come up for a visit without leaving their home behind.
My mother meets me by the creek once marked the boundary of our beach walks
we are walking back I am telling her everyone is doing pretty well.
she is pointing out to where diamonds of the waves briefly meet the sky.
My cousins brother-in-law brings us to the breakwater to fish. I’ve smoked all my cigarettes and he, the brother-in-law, is generous supplying me from his own. They get bored want to go down to the beach side to swim. I don’t want to, So I stay smoking someone else’s cigarettes fishing for nothing keeping an eye on the gear. Nearby there’s woman on a huge flat chunk of granite. She has two children with her. They are playing together with bits of sea weed. She lays there luxuriant in the sun sounds of the waves and the laughter of her children.
Walking on the beach with a girl I know from school. tide high and slack.
we are finding things in the sand noting as we go strips of green weeds, bits of sea glass, bleached bones of small creatures skulls of small crabs. Sometimes there are these pink stones. I pick them up put them into the pockets of my cut-off jeans. She picks them up as well and even though she has pockets on her cut-offs she is rather throwing them out into the sea. I give it a go but mine fall short. They’re nowhere near the long effortless arcs of her own. So instead, I give all mine to her and watch. We continue on in that way. Me picking up small pink stones handing them to her so we can enjoy the long grace of her connections with the sea.
