poetry and mixed media art
Transient
Transition into sleep
Waking up eyes sticky
Moving through the day
As if I owned it
Transitions—in and out
Of awareness
At night
At day
Transitioning into togetherness
After breaking free
Not so much transition
More elemental force
Breaking free
Thrown together
Liminal spaces
In between
The hours, the days, the weeks
In between all of us
Are we seeking to arrive?
Live relentlessly
Relentlessly optimistic
Relentlessly happy
Give into your sadness with all your being
And let it run, run, down the river
Give into your joy with all your heart
Let your inner child embrace life again
Give into your anger with all your might
Let it rage until your knuckles bleed
Give into your love with all your Self
Let it grow, grow until it leaps onto others
Be relentless
In living this life of yours
Just one rule
Don’t destroy anyone else on the way
You are so much more than you believe!
Watch out for your righteousness
It can turn
So very easily
Into self-righteous adulation
Of ego
Watch out for your lies
Your hunger for power
Can turn your win
So easily
Into a loss you cannot predict
Watch out for your hate
It poisons your soul
Each day
You feed it
Until the darkness has swallowed you
Watch out for your greed
Your need to own
To have, to stuff, to fill
You never know
Who holds the keys to these shakles
Watch out for your infidelities
They take
Much more
Than you think
Are you able to pay this bill
Watch out for your envy
Your bitterness
Your bile
Do you want to be beholden
To such masters
Watch out for your laziness
Idle gossip
Your refusal to live
Just sit
And permit the darkness to permeate
So much
For all the grief you cause
For all the pain I witness
This pain is yours to carry
This grief is yours to hold
This hate is your burden
May it come back to you
And you alone
Until you learn to love
(Begin with yourself)
May all of those
Who you have tainted
Be free
Be seen
Be strong
Let go
And heal
You meant well?
I mean what I say?
But a mean streak
Works just as well?
Meaningful engagement?
The means to an end?
What does it mean?
What do I mean?
I mean to you?
I mean to myself?
My life means to me?
Just a finite pearlstring
Of events my brain categorises
Into a meaningful story?
But is it meaningful?
This story of mine?
These random encounters
Carefully planned?
And I am simply the narrator?
Narrator
Maybe not so simple after all?
The narrator creates reality
Without the storyteller
The pearls would tumble through space and time
I tell my life into being
In a teaching observation the person I observed was introducing free will and categories of determinism to the class. So I tried playing with the ideas.
