In my moment of need you gave me your gift of words

In my moment of need, you gave me your gift of words.

As I lay at the wayside,

Bleeding

Scarred

Scared

And

You told me how much our moments together meant to you.

In my hour of need, you covered me with clichés.

As I stood before you naked

Exposed

Shivering

Terrified

And

You shared with me how our friendship gave you such a lovely warm feeling.

In the time I needed you most, you poured out your wisdom.

I had no money for food

No funds for fuel

Nor hope for the future

And

You told me how much you valued the time we spent together.

.

..

Then she came.

She saw me bleeding at the wayside

And

She said nothing.

Then

She cleansed my wounds

Then

She sewed the torn flesh

Then

She bandaged my broken body

Then

She clothed me in her own robe

Then

She fed me…

No message was upon her lips

Save for the warmth of her smile

Reflecting the fire of compassion in her eyes

She held me safe ’til I slept in peace

Forever

In her arms

Embraced

A child again

In silence

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In My Mind

In My Mind

Below…

..

.

There is a cave

Beneath

The Lighthouse

In which I live.

I go there

To recharge

The energy expended

When I give.

 

My cave is warm

My cave is safe

More a sanctuary

Than a tomb;

Cosy, reassuring

It’s like re-entering

The womb.

 

I emerge from there

As born again,

I emerge from there

A butterfly;

So when I seem

So cold

And distant

Now you know the “Why”.

 

Above…

..

.

The Lighthouse loves

To share its light

With strangers far and wide

But few realise

The darkness

That often dwells inside.

 

The Lighthouse loves

To share its twinkling beam

With friends and family too

But rarely do they see the heart

That pounds with passion –

Fierce and true.

It beats me

Black and blue.

 

Passions bright

Passions dark

Passions rage

And rend my heart.

 

But You

You have mended my heart.

 

So

The Lighthouse sits

Upon this Rock

Remote. Detached. Alone.

The strangest choice

In which to live

But it’s the place

I call

My home.

.

..

In My Mind

Below

Above

I have encountered love.

Poem: Matter Over Mind

Matter over mind?

Or mind over matter?

I am energised by the first,

I am enervated by the latter!

All this thinking wears my insides out

The joy of thought grows thin,

I think I’ll try another way

And let the outside in.

 

A body of knowledge

Can trump and lift the soul

Breaking despair’s spell

And making us more whole…

Well, at least with the body’s help

The journey can begin

To triumph over darker moods

And let some sunshine in.

 

Assume the position:

Lift up your hands,

Lift up your chin and eyes;

Let the body lead

Where the soul should follow:

Prepare to be surprised!

For the mind’s rehearsed

Each gesture’s meaning

It interprets your body’s speech;

So if you move

As if you’re joyful

That joy‘s within your reach.

 

Your soma remembers the golden times

Your muscles recall the story

So when you mirror that mnemonic posture

Your mind will return to glory!

 

 

 


 

Poet’s Note.

I’ve taught for years that changing one’s physical position necessarily transforms one’s mental ‘position’.  This is irresistible since other neural pathways are automatically triggered when we change our body language.  More than this, though, there is a body of teaching that encourages us to act ‘as if’.  Today I saw that in terms of a kinaethetic memory.  Mind and body are one system.  If you feel low, your body knows what that should look like and so it assumes the correct stance!  Changing your stance (physically) works the other way too, matter over mind, where you will change your mental stance in the metamorphic mirror of the dance of mind and matter.

1000 Reasons (A Poem for a change)

1000 Reasons

I have 1000 Reasons
Why it someone else’s fault
Yet the chief suspect is plain to see.

I have 10,000 ideas
Of how my life could be better
But clearly the action’s up to me.

If I don’t water my dozen plants
My house-plants wither
And die

I cannot then
Shake my fist at heaven
And shout,
“Why, God, oh why?”

If I don’t clear
My tons of mess
And then bump
Into my clutter

Is there really
Any justification
For those foul words
I mutter?

The answer, friend
Is there for all to see.
If transforming change is to be
It’s clearly starts with me!

I was so…

I was so…

…looking forward
……to my bath
A rare
Time aside
.
But
Of late
My thoughts
Have not been good companions.

They gang together
Aghast ganglia
Criticising
Complaining
Finding fault
Bullies
Not a word of comfort
Or encouragement.

I take
Comfort
From the fact
That
Many a time
I have switched off
My computer
On a whim
At my will
With a flick
Of my fingertips.

I know where
The switch is.
I can
Turn me off.

Such is power.

I pissed
In your bathwater.
I downgraded
Your Valentine’s
Card + Present.
I have crucified
My love for you
With Christ.
You no longer
Live to me.
The life
You live
In your aging body
You can live
By faith
In someone else.

Vitriol

In Vitro

Or at least

In vitrious china!


It is finished
.