Sunday, 10 August 2008

Mr Man

At the centre of this is a man who knows. I want to shake my finger at him and say: "No Mr Man you DO NOT KNOW"

He says: 'I do. I know everything you see. Have knowledge of all you've read. been told. forgotten. I remind you to be clear and sensitive, to know love not hate, peace not anger, your heart not your head, to remain in the present moment.'

I say: "But you DO NOT KNOW. You say and say, but know nothing. You've heard them and I hear you telling me these things every day but you do not know. I listen but you do know. You speak in words without meaning, dry of the juice they describe. Your words are desert - endless and repetitive, alien to life. Tell me what you know of say: Winter, the first day of it when frost came on our garden, a deer jumped the fence as I opened the front door, hooves crunching on rigid grass, fresh from nibbling leaves of the tree by the chicken run. Do you know the breath leaving my lungs, gathering steam, catching the deer's eye, split spark of recognition, cold biting into my hands, warm in my chest, silver on the branches and sun criss-crossing? YOU KNOW THIS MR MAN????!!!!"

"..."

"You know the pain I feel when I see it again, lost to its innocence, immediacy. Cold my life is now but not like nipping frost. Cold like dull, walking your desert. You gave me signs for everything, direction for nowhere. Explained and TAUGHT nothing. Now I can't feel its heat and explosions hit me day by day and I burn. But can't cry. It cannot hurt this numb machine who learnt that he knows and so forgot it ALL.

YOU DO NOT KNOW!

SO I THROW YOU OUT!!!!!"

8 8 8
* * *
* * *
*
8 * * * * * KABOOM!!!! * * * * * 8
*
* * *
* * *
8 8 8



{ - breath - }





~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~ still lake lapping at experience-possibility ~~~~~~~

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~

Mr Man

At the centre of this is a man who knows. I want to shake my finger at him and say: "No Mr Man you DO NOT KNOW"

He says: 'I do. I know everything you see. Have knowledge of all you've read. been told. forgotten. I remind you to be clear and sensitive, to know love not hate, peace not anger, your heart not your head, to remain in the present moment.'

I say: "But you DO NOT KNOW. You say and say, but know nothing. You've heard them and I hear you telling me these things every day but you do not know. I listen but you do know. You speak in words without meaning, dry of the juice they describe. Your words are desert - endless and repetitive, alien to life. Tell me what you know of say: Winter, the first day of it when frost came on our garden, a deer jumped the fence as I opened the front door, hooves crunching on rigid grass, fresh from nibbling leaves of the tree by the chicken run. Do you know the breath leaving my lungs, gathering steam, catching the deer's eye, split spark of recognition, cold biting into my hands, warm in my chest, silver on the branches and sun criss-crossing? YOU KNOW THIS MR MAN????!!!!"

"..."

"You know the pain I feel when I see it again, lost to its innocence, immediacy. Cold my life is now but not like nipping frost. Cold like dull, walking your desert. You gave me signs for everything, direction for nowhere. Explained and TAUGHT nothing. Now I can't feel its heat and explosions hit me day by day and I burn. But can't cry. It cannot hurt this numb machine who learnt that he knows and so forgot it ALL.

YOU DO NOT KNOW!

SO I THROW YOU OUT!!!!!"

8 8 8
* * *
* * *
*
8 * * * * * KABOOM!!!! * * * * * 8
*
* * *
* * *
8 8 8



{ - breath - }





~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~ still lake lapping at experience-possibility ~~~~~~~

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~

Mourning

I’m in mourning for a life I never knew

That cluttered dreams and pathways

Reduce to crushing monotony

Weep for you have not known me

I have not known myself

Mourning

I’m in mourning for a life I never knew

That cluttered dreams and pathways

Reduce to crushing monotony

Shatter to freedom

Seeds of perception

Wither to sprout fruit

air like crystal beads

tastes my forehead

colours spread to black

black to winter

winter to

unborn unbearing

centreless comfort

piercing radiance

love's silent victim

it's One true home


Weep for you have not known me

I have not known myself

Mourning

I’m in mourning for a life I never knew

That cluttered dreams and pathways

Reduce to crushing monotony

Weep for you have not known me

I have not known myself

Mourning

I’m in mourning for a life I never knew

That cluttered dreams and pathways

Reduce to crushing monotony

Shatter to freedom

Seeds of perception

Wither to sprout fruit

air like crystal beads

tastes my forehead

colours spread to black

black to winter

winter to

unborn unbearing

centreless comfort

piercing radiance

love's silent victim

it's One true home


Weep for you have not known me

I have not known myself

Zazzoo

Your mind hurts

and lashes at me with words i can't hear
through weight of noise they sting through

intelligent
beautiful woman
listen to yourself

and me

i am not speaking

listening to you rant
through me
knives in the sky

i'm easy to break
and your fears and theories railed against me
kill

know your bullets
before you load
or maybe you do
and don't know
me

i see your mind a cage of thorns
thinking its pain is so clever
so worthy
so full of life

dreams within you are more beautiful
more full of life
and available to you now

you say i am like empty space
then do not pollute it with your thoughts
but dreams of distilled and carefulcarefree wonder
in this we grow

thorns strangle and wither
not just you
me too

Zazzoo

Your mind hurts

and lashes at me with words i can't hear
through weight of noise they sting through

intelligent
beautiful woman
listen to yourself

and me

i am not speaking

listening to you rant
through me
knives in the sky

i'm easy to break
and your fears and theories railed against me
kill

know your bullets
before you load
or maybe you do
and don't know
me

i see your mind a cage of thorns
thinking its pain is so clever
so worthy
so full of life

dreams within you are more beautiful
more full of life
and available to you now

you say i am like empty space
then do not pollute it with your thoughts
but dreams of distilled and carefulcarefree wonder
in this we grow

thorns strangle and wither
not just you
me too

Obameacoffee

"Gallup/USA Today poll showed John McCain beating Mr Obama by 49% to 45% among likely voters." (*)

Wake up!

A
M
E
R
I
C
A

The world thinks you are stupid.

Show us we're wrong.

Be clear. Obama will make you a weaken your standing.

But in a stronger world.

The world needs you NOW.

You are not serving.

You are greedy.

You behave like a spoilt child when criticised.

Time to grow up.

Allow respect and dignity into yourselves.

Obama is a man. He will do good things and bad.

Many things he will be unable to do.

But the choice between positive, uplifting, substantial

And negative, downtreading, mythical is clear.

You've been beaten up long enough.

And beating others also.

The world says:

S
T
O
P
!

So now listen.

Obameacoffee

"Gallup/USA Today poll showed John McCain beating Mr Obama by 49% to 45% among likely voters." (*)

Wake up!

A
M
E
R
I
C
A

The world thinks you are stupid.

Show us we're wrong.

Be clear. Obama will make you a weaken your standing.

But in a stronger world.

The world needs you NOW.

You are not serving.

You are greedy.

You behave like a spoilt child when criticised.

Time to grow up.

Allow respect and dignity into yourselves.

Obama is a man. He will do good things and bad.

Many things he will be unable to do.

But the choice between positive, uplifting, substantial

And negative, downtreading, mythical is clear.

You've been beaten up long enough.

And beating others also.

The world says:

S
T
O
P
!

So now listen.

Sunday, 3 August 2008

POTB 2

Stephen felt something awkward as soon as he sat down.

Jane, cup poised 3mm from her lip, green-amber eyes wide, some where between fear and questioning, mind racing to anticipate the next move. Mary shifted, placed cup on its saucer with uncomfortable rattle.

As he rounded the corner of the grey, long corridor, Stephen had wondered why Mary and Jane never took company. He'd put it down to others' mistrust of eccentricity (viz silence) and reasoned the duo required a warm managerial hand to help them feel more integrated. He would sit and give them a smile, raising cheeks to tickle the ends of his brown moustache causing him to partially recoil from a fully spread mouth. He hadn't realised this made him look untrustworthy in a naive innocent way that most judged harmless, though annoying. That Stephen was an upper lip shave away from harmonious workplace authority, none had deigned tell him though Mary and Jane had undertaken such an action in week four of the fantasy. Another example of how the Exercise had made their perception piercingly acute.

Three steps into the tea room, Stephen was resolute. Mind firm of purpose, no need to catch their eyes, just the shiny tips of tan brogues nearing chair, hand placed to pull it out, bum descending confidently on seat, arm still lingering on back of chair. He looked up at his startled audience. Not even time to wince in anticipation of tickled cheeks, though this absence of action no doubt saved the situation from becoming irredeemably tense.

"Morning" - Stephen

"Hello" - Jane

"Hi" - Mary

Pause.

Mary's crumb licked pointedly from her lip.

"Joining us, Stephen?" Kind, surprised.

"Yes, erm, thanks. Sitting here enjoying your, er, let's see..."

And he saw. Replying eyes inquiring his next word. This was strange he thought, something a little new. It was interest. In him. Tense, yes. Certainly uncomfortable but unquestionably undivided. He loved it. Blushing and warming, lapping up the novelty, he knew now he could not be thrown:

"Look, girls. We've been conducting a social interaction review over the last week"

"Who has, Stephen?" - Mary

"Mostly myself."

Raised eyebrows.

"It's an unpublished review, chiefly composed of my own observations, though I feel moved to share with you some of the results."

Phew! This was great stuff. He wondered why he hadn't been so eloquent before. Then:

"You've been watching our tea breaks."

"Yup."

"For just the last week?"

"Some knowledge was gleaned, you could say, from the author's previous experience" Grin. Back on track. Straightened finger pads a crumb from table, flicked on floor, faux nonchalently.

"That's a bit creepy, Stephen" - Mary, wrinkling lip.

Stephen deflating like a red balloon.

Jane recovering him: "Erm, what were your observations?"

"Well I saw you two don't really talk much"

"No" They agree.

POTB 2

Stephen felt something awkward as soon as he sat down.

Jane, cup poised 3mm from her lip, green-amber eyes wide, some where between fear and questioning, mind racing to anticipate the next move. Mary shifted, placed cup on its saucer with uncomfortable rattle.

As he rounded the corner of the grey, long corridor, Stephen had wondered why Mary and Jane never took company. He'd put it down to others' mistrust of eccentricity (viz silence) and reasoned the duo required a warm managerial hand to help them feel more integrated. He would sit and give them a smile, raising cheeks to tickle the ends of his brown moustache causing him to partially recoil from a fully spread mouth. He hadn't realised this made him look untrustworthy in a naive innocent way that most judged harmless, though annoying. That Stephen was an upper lip shave away from harmonious workplace authority, none had deigned tell him though Mary and Jane had undertaken such an action in week four of the fantasy. Another example of how the Exercise had made their perception piercingly acute.

Three steps into the tea room, Stephen was resolute. Mind firm of purpose, no need to catch their eyes, just the shiny tips of tan brogues nearing chair, hand placed to pull it out, bum descending confidently on seat, arm still lingering on back of chair. He looked up at his startled audience. Not even time to wince in anticipation of tickled cheeks, though this absence of action no doubt saved the situation from becoming irredeemably tense.

"Morning" - Stephen

"Hello" - Jane

"Hi" - Mary

Pause.

Mary's crumb licked pointedly from her lip.

"Joining us, Stephen?" Kind, surprised.

"Yes, erm, thanks. Sitting here enjoying your, er, let's see..."

And he saw. Replying eyes inquiring his next word. This was strange he thought, something a little new. It was interest. In him. Tense, yes. Certainly uncomfortable but unquestionably undivided. He loved it. Blushing and warming, lapping up the novelty, he knew now he could not be thrown:

"Look, girls. We've been conducting a social interaction review over the last week"

"Who has, Stephen?" - Mary

"Mostly myself."

Raised eyebrows.

"It's an unpublished review, chiefly composed of my own observations, though I feel moved to share with you some of the results."

Phew! This was great stuff. He wondered why he hadn't been so eloquent before. Then:

"You've been watching our tea breaks."

"Yup."

"For just the last week?"

"Some knowledge was gleaned, you could say, from the author's previous experience" Grin. Back on track. Straightened finger pads a crumb from table, flicked on floor, faux nonchalently.

"That's a bit creepy, Stephen" - Mary, wrinkling lip.

Stephen deflating like a red balloon.

Jane recovering him: "Erm, what were your observations?"

"Well I saw you two don't really talk much"

"No" They agree.