Wednesday 23 April 2014

My love feeds off your love, beloved


You and me, we
are one, action, reaction.
Fire, ash, regrowth.

For as long as your roar,
I roar.
I'll fade if you do.

For as long as you grow,
I grow to you,
I'll wilt if you do.

For as long as you're rooted,
I'll root to you.
My love will set sail as you do.

Tuesday 22 April 2014

Autotelic



My heart for my heart's sake
My ambition for my ambition's sake
My art for art's sake
My self. for goodness' sake.
Myself, is myself, for Pete's sake.

"My whole life has been a poem I would have writ
but could I not both live and utter it"
~ Thoreau

Sunday 20 April 2014

Birdhouse


Who am I without you?
A birdhouse without
a bird, without a song without a nest without
your discarded feathers without
your weariness in stormy weather without
your weight without your warmth without
your eggs without your morning call.

Who am I without you?
Who am I without you

Saturday 19 April 2014

The story of morality


In the beginning there was white.
and for quite a while that seemed quite alright,
and by its absence, there was black.
But soon things started to get off-track.
The first mistake meant the birth of grey,
and then fifty shades of gray,
and if you open your eyes wide,
for each shade, you have a black and white on either side.

So - in an attempt to get back to white,
and stop things getting duller,
they tried get there from new ways,
but instead they invented, err - colour.
In an attempt for real improvement,
they accidentally introduced movement,
And since we're doomed now we might as well mention
the inadvertent début of the third dimension.

So now we know we won't get to white,
since it was probably only real in our minds,
lets hope it doesn't hurt to try,
then we might slip in some fun. on the side.





Friday 18 April 2014

Hanami


Who thinks of winter,
while spring is in the world?

Beyond their evident beauty
sakura contain the reminder
that all beauty is ephemeral
appreciate it every moment you can.

"kisses are a far better fate
than wisdom"
 ~ E.E.Cummings

Thursday 17 April 2014

Poetry makes nothing happen

"For poetry makes nothing happen: it survives
In the valley of its making where executives
Would never want to tamper, flows on south
From ranches of isolation and the busy griefs,
Raw towns that we believe and die in; it survives,
A way of happening, a mouth."
~ WH Auden


My mouth, my mouth!
my subtle chirping,
my squawks and my slurping,
my lisp mutterer,
my gluton-er and my stu-stu-stutter-er.

My mouth, my megaphone,
shared by my single-minded mind
and a sentient soul.

Mind you, my sole
goal is to be and feel alive,
 and so my poetry, (if you stretch to call it that),
my poetry, my way of happening, my mouth,
it
will
survive.


Wednesday 16 April 2014

The rest will follow


I'll not beg for attention,
I'll not even earn it,
I'll become someone worthy of holding my own first.

Tuesday 15 April 2014

What I was to you


The future fell farther than the furthest clouds
on that warm, blue, day of fun,
We sipped on high spirits, spit limericks, and licked liquor-ish;
committed cynics, splitting politics,
all day sitting in the sun.

The future fell fast when the sun faded,
under an inverted black sea of cloud;
it whipped as if bent on flipping cloud ships,
while blipping drops gripped our outfits;
we sheltered in your alley.

When morning came, I limped away,
weak knees were hurting badly,
with dark clouds still above, no sign of a dove,
I looked up -
and remembered -
that one night stand-ing in your alley.

Monday 14 April 2014

New York


She's Royal without a Monarch
She's Grand without being old
A heterogeneous hegemonous metropolis
And for some her streets are made of gold.

She's confident without perfection
She's self-aware with out a self
She's glamorous and generous, wealthy and amorous
Indifferent to those on the shelf.

Sunday 13 April 2014

Your Air


I was swept beneath your carpet once,
as if without your care,
the last in line to breathe your air
between the dust and spiders that sheltered there,
the last to breathe your air.

The things I saw, I'd heard about,
in the times you'd let me breathe,
the papers of sweets you'd once ate,
a corpse from when you'd fumigate,
it had run out of your air.

Periodically, you'd vacuum clean,
and sucked unto the carpet's fur ceiling,
the closest to you I'd recently been,
I'd gasp out for your air.

Through lint and mold,
I've heard wives tales of old,
behold a sky so big so bold, so slightly cold-
er than your bless-ed air.
And sold I'll stroll consoled and inhale my whole,
one day you'll find me there.
With lungs full of my fresh air.

Saturday 12 April 2014

Ambitious Growth


When I grow up
I don't want to be a..
an actuary or a reactionary
a commentator or a mere spectator
a passive participator or contrived test acer
an impotent protester or a haughty rule maker.
No,
When I grow up,
I'd want to be a fiduciary revolutionary
a mover and a shaker
a polemic king-maker
A pragmatic ideologue the anti-demagogue
A first mover - a way chooser.

And the growing up started today.

Friday 11 April 2014

The Unfortunate Tail of the Lobster and the Chef

Lifting the lid of the boiling pot,
the steam rose thick as death,
it frothed at the mouth,
and it coughed;
with a towel,
the chef dabbed her brow,
extractor fans whirred ahead.

The bullet-proof leviathan of the sea,
king among crustacean kind,
lightly lay, tanked, with huge humiliated claws
contracted by plastic ratchet tags.

It didn't squeal as it was placed in the pot
the searing swell served to massage smoothly
when you've got shells made of steel, 
not even bullets from an uzi, nor this sizzling jacuzzi
could cook this colossal crustacean into sushi.

"Look, lobster, I'm going to lunch on you." the chef warned bluntly
"Its just a matter of time.
I've got a life I love, but other things to be done,
if you want in, you just decide."

Taken a-back the lobster kept its cool
and thoughtfully readied the reply,
And goes the proverbial tale of old,
as it opened its three mouths to speak, things started to go awry.

Quick as a flash, the scalding water was in,
its life extinguished like a light
it doesn't matter how thick your skin
when you're being cooked from inside.




Thursday 10 April 2014

To Love At All



“To love at all is to be vulnerable. 

Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. 
If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. 
Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. 
Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. 
But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. 
It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. 
To love is to be vulnerable.
~ C.S. Lewis

Monday 7 April 2014

They Can't Ignore You


"Pursue your passion / follow your dream"
may be the worst advice
given to our generation.

Following your dream may leave you with no options
because you can find 'non-dream like aspects' in every kind of work,
because passion is not the same as disciplined improvement,
because what we want to do is not always what society wants.

But if you pursue mastery
at something that you can be great at,
something you can see the greater value to;
you may hang around long enough, to see 
your work appreciated and respected and
the positive impact of your personal contribution.

So you may just find yourself pursuing your passion
after all.

inspired by "So Good They Can't Ignore You" - Cal Newport

Sunday 6 April 2014

Do your best


What does it mean
to do your best?

Is it the best action you are capable of?

What does your best look like
with finite time and energy,
finite patience and compassion,
finite waking hours, money and influence,
finite motivation and inspiration?

Aren't we doing that all the time?
Are we?
and,
Is that enough?

Saturday 5 April 2014

Remember


Every now and again
He'd look up from his papers
to the mirror sitting idly
in the corner.

A glance just long enough,
to remember.