Hiatus [sonnet]
From now until my heart can take no more,
my lips are sealed; my pen bereft of ink.
My soul’s less sturdy than it was before;
my wild, demented brain too scaRRed to think.
The Price of Perfectionism [poem]
There is a price to be paid for perfectionism’s
purple pros(e)aically prejudiced plume
which we can grownly assume is roughly equal to:
EITHER
ª The harsh disapproval directed one’s way
[for high expectations will always dismay
as low self-esteem and a lack of resolve
result in resentment, so none get involved!].
OR
ª The aloneness one has (dressed in freedom’s disguise)
[for almost the whole world will run for their lives
when they hear of the earnest desire to preserve
one’s nature unswervingly: “He’s got a nerve!”]
What Lies Behind the British General Election 2017
SO OFTEN, I FIND A LITTLE SIGH COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH when I see so many of my friends — both in real life and on social media — become so easily caught up in the razzmatazz of national election processes, whether presidential or parliamentarian. How any mature person could take seriously these very obviously staged theatrical productions is quite beyond me. Every few years, the power-elite (secret global government) which really controls everything — consisting of secret fraternities, ancient families, plus the upper echelons of military, intelligence, security and law enforcement agencies in collusion with diplomatic/civil services — allows the people to imagine they are part of a democracy which chooses its government. It is an extremely clever and effective strategy. But it makes monkeys out of everyone.
Sonnet on the General Election
She told me people died so I could vote.
At which I said: “O, what a bloody waste!
Forgive me if I do not sugarcoat
my words”. She stared at me, all stony-faced.
The Sonnet: Awakener of the Soul
Let’s start with a big question: Is it possible that structure can bring freedom? Can some kind of “limitation” ever be inspiring? Your immediate reaction might be to say, emphatically, “No way! I’d just want to break out of it” But that would be too quick and too easy a response. In fact, it would have been a response based only in the realm of the physical, which itself is already very limited by its nature. If that question was put to me — “Can structure bring freedom?” — I would be tempted to have some fun with whatever that structure was — to turn it around — to reinvent it, transform it, without any violation of the original question. You see, working within a structure can be joyful and liberating if your artistic mind is already totally free. For limitations, when confronted by a free mind, do not bring an imposition — in just the same way that so-called “problems” for the free soul are merely exciting challenges. 😊
Dark Horse [sonnet]
She killed the horse before the race began.
“It’s no use, for I know he’ll never win;
he lost before”, she said. “And if he can
so thwart me once, I can’t again begin”.
Terrorism in European Cities: The Only Conclusion
REGARDING ALL THE TERRORIST ATROCITIES happening regularly in European cities — after all the information available has been digested — there is only one conclusion to which any sane, honest, informed and rational person can come: That governmental security services, intelligence agencies and even the upper echelons of those governments themselves (i.e. presidential, prime ministerial and ministerial levels) are complicit in those atrocities. To fail to come to that conclusion, one would have to be either extremely stupid, an escapist living in la-la land or simply too fearful to face up to the implications of that life-changing revelation.
Angel Chances [poem]
Here this man now sits and stands and paces
round the room while twin-scented swirling
strands make fiery dangling traces round the
edges of his tiny ever-[never]-reaching hands
The strands of which I speak are two and golden
flamed and tainted handsomely and guaranteed
to thrill and ultimately fill the yearning burn of
glistening dreams (undoing over-tightened seams)
Why Do I Feel So Alone?
First, let me say this: Spiritual aloneness is not the same as loneliness. People very often communicate to me how lonely and isolated they feel on their spiritual pathway. The crazier the world becomes, the more “strung out” one can feel. Last week, someone wrote this to me:
“You talk a lot about the Light. I love the Light too. I thought that when I woke up a couple of years ago that in place of the old friends I had to leave behind or who left me behind because of my changes, I would find a lot of new friends who walked the same path as me. I remember as I was waking up that I felt more and more out of place and all alone when with my old friends. But two years later I actually feel more alone than ever before. I don’t understand why this should be. Can you explain it?”
Trigger Happy!
What triggers you so easily to throw your “bombs” around
(a metaphor which indicates the nature of your verbal blasts
& all your gauche attempts at playing the part of cold iconoclast)
and make the heartless sounds you do, reacting scornfully to
anything originating from outside your hypernarrow field of view
(instead of looking in yourself and then exploring other worlds
which live beyond the multitude of books upon your shelf),
projecting all the darksome things that you have now become
— for instance, narcissist, derivative and thiefly plagiarising
plunderman who skulks in waiting rooms on doctors’ lists,
a dour old man who’s long forgotten when he last was kissed
by pretty things, a man who never sings or bares his truly soul
but simply plays the role of “I’m-in-charge-and-don’t-get-in-my-
way-’cause-then-I’ll-start-to-play-the-games-I’ve-learned-will-
hide-my-tiny-soul-from-view” — on those who you have envied
with your hotly jealous heart; and everywhere are strewed the
now-dead petals from the summer flowers you never bloomed
and all the books you have consumed can never save you now.
The Naked Troubadour 