Circles: Cycles #4

Moods swing like the tick of a clock

Letting being happen

 

Making a noise

A footstep

To be trod unto,

A path followed,

That will one day end

The door of a new beginning

 

Feelings tock

Emotions tick

Sensation points to something

One thing

One day known

On a cold Sunday celebration

 

Each and every hand and heart will

Cross a line

And cross another, and cross another

Doing full circles

Together

Serenity

A feeling of oneness

With everything around

The wood

The animals

And the trees

 

The bird song is music

A celebration of kinship

 

There is nowhere else to go

Right now

One just sits in the hollow of the feeling,

Nature’s arms wrapped around one as a mother would

To a child,

Bringing them closer

To connect

And protect

 

Together

Nature and I

Lie in peace

In a willingness to leave

An unashamed cry

 

Soon it will end

Which is fine

As long as I can try

To remember

The time when I felt whole,

Engulfed in Serenity

 

The Grey

The pulling up on my neck,

an accidental asphyxiation,

became the tangled constriction

of my column of life.

 

Stable turned upside down

Uprooted

An Animal

Lost in place

 

I don’t know where I am anymore.

I lean back.

 

Same sounds, same noises;

muted;

Tinted in an air of emptiness,

and a hollow blur

of grey shades

that coat the sights of memories

 

A flicker of blue fire leaves the source

making it’s mark through impressions

on the supple

and layers on the stiff

 

A far reach turns into a little too much,

the lack of breath

turns to a lack of movement

‘till the earthy self

is now just concrete.

The fire’s flickered out.

Little One

Your coat is warm to the touch

Bathing in the sun again

The sleepy look on your face

says it all

 

You know

Don’t you?

Your tail is wagging like a lunatic

 

Sorry I have to leave you

Little one

I know you can smell it on me

The sadness

Your little nose is twitching like it does when you know

You’re still smiling at the goodbye’s

Nuzzling the rope to unknown lands

And the guarded green realms

Tilting your head at me

 

It’s Christmas again because I gave you a treat

Running around all of the corners

Wiggling all over the place

The Wobbliest In the evening

 

You know the punch line to all of my jokes

And the voices I make when I’m happy or sad

You always snuggle up to me

Or stand in the open

looking up to see

how to fix it

 

You put your head on my lap and followed my eyes with yours

As we said goodbye

Ways to be: Cycles #3

I read a book on Zen Buddhism

by my favouritest author

and thought,

thinking, so hard

about the way

to get to thoughtless

to peace

to one

that I ran out of steps in my walk

I ran out of numbers in the day

 

I thought

 

Until my limbs turned cold,

I lay down

to rest

my soul in pieces

 

After hours, lying to myself,

alone, time

passing from one ear to another,

trying to lift an arm

or a heart

or searching for a better

way to be

While sipping milk out of a straw.

 

No white light,

Just the fall,

And no need to fight,

The silence.

 

Letting go of motivations,

for recovery

from the pace

of the marathon

To feel the seasons,

summer, autumn,

winter, spring,

 

Finding warmth again

I saw

the lotus flower

opening

Questions in Spilled Words

 

Up,

This

Is the

Problem

To think of.

For anything

Worth the sweat

Of our brow or of the

Grinding teeth that keep

Us half asleep at night, wriggles,

Turns and unfinished murmurs off of

The edge of tongues on the ways we might fail.

When there is might in the certainty of nothingness,

Still, can anyone accept his own downfall in the moment now,

To venture out into the mysterious emptiness, the darkness, in depths.

Holding fast in fluidity, we can conquer the demons that keep us as prisoners in

Our own minds. The stale stories that we still tell ourselves, or have been told from birth hurt

As we break in the bones of conformity. And the fascial adhesions still keep us joined at the hip, bound to

Societies' expectations of what we maybe might achieve, and still we hold our emotions down in our stomachs and

Quiver at sights of flamboyant eccentricity. A call to arms became a call to body and mind and self altogether whatever the

Differences. New ages are contained in the disintegration of a moment before the wind changes, Changing - Nothing can hold us

Down.

 

-Ben

Her

Overwhelming joy

Like a fire flood rising and falling in my belly

The feeling of being stretched into the epitome of up and smiles

She makes me laugh like I don’t know myself anymore,

Beautiful blue eyes,

Talking in hums and squeezes

Sleepy faces and tight cuddles

She keeps me warm

Talking through the night about the problems of the universe

Singing and dancing to old songs from groovy times

Never cheesy, always cheesy, and we love it

A duo in performance

Double trouble

The dream team

 

In the shadows

We embrace them

Savour them

Talk of their necessity

In Low tones

And bland fact

Overtoned by squeaky voices

About mawnins and evenins

And aftanoonees

 

We wrestle and tickle

Because that’s the proper thing to do

And become the birds and the dogs

With their dances and calls

Then I kiss her forehead softly and warmly

And I tell her that she is the best thing that has ever happened to me

Because she just is.

And I love her so.

Bounding Over A Flower Field

Oh Dear,

Bounding over a field

You could be us

But we are metal

Pedalling tracks, we mostly forget you

 

Oh Dear ,

Warm Cold Freedom

You seem so fluid, jolly, with purpose

I hope you don’t find a line or carcass

Want to keep you in your paradise

 

Oh Dear,

do I want to be you?

Tell me something that you have thought of

more than footsteps from concrete fortress’

 

Oh Dear…

Oh Dear…

I won’t forget you

No longing, you wanted to jump the highest

Feel the air and other spires

The highest grass wasn’t tall enough

You found the sky and fields within it

 

There were never any lies

Nor ears for them

Eyes for the sky

She put her heart on the ground

To listen for the direction

 

The little ones cuddle the floor

The corpse

No others need to know it

They are tired of lying still

and being lied to.

They knew that Mummy found the sky and weren’t below it

bright eyes glew among the grassbush

A city of petals glimmered among the kingdom

Green, Yellow and Red,

beyond Grey

The destination

 

Oh Dears,

Practice the the ways of

up and down and over

They invented forward on a backward day

 

Oh Dears,

Stonger every day,

Put the flowers away,

The grass is getting smaller,

Trees are moving into order
Taller

Taller

 

Oh Dears,

Branches now beneath their haunches

When the grey came

Yellow gave Red the Green and launched it.

They made it down and put it up,

and bright eyes glew among the treetops.

 

Grey,

Up high,

So suddenly it looked off colour

when left to find it’s own way

down, from the peaks

down from the peaks

down from the Monkey Puzzle tree.

 

Oh Dears, Oh Dears,

Over the Grey Country they marched,

Green, Yellow, and Red

“When Grey was backward we went forward”

-Ben

When We’re Tired

When we’re tired we just keep writing

When we’re tired the words don’t spill anymore

I look into my head and find something resembling foggy nothings

I find empty corridors and full closets

Tiredness is a word for ‘I don’t know’

Or the decisions I’ve made in the past week

Or the things I wish I could have written

I feel weak

My hope is that one day I will be rid of tiredness

Put an end to the problem of energy

One day inspiration will knock me upward

And I will have the perfect routine

And my body won’t fail me

And I’ll be living the dream, one day

…Tonight I’m tired though.

Tonight is the night where I stay up late and watch youtube videos,

because it will make me feel better.

Tonight I will cook broccoli at 1 in the morning,

because I’m hungry and I can’t eat breakfast.

And then I’ll eat sugar treats

because they taste nice

and I’m living life

WHY THE HELL DID HE DO THIS

I woke up at 12.

But

Wait

What

No

Am I failing my body?

I won’t fail my body.

won’t fail my body.

One day I will conquer my problems

I will start on a new day.

When I get to bed on time,

and I’m in the coffee shop at 7.

Tiredness is a problem for the week.

Try again on a tomorrow okay?

Keep writing

Keep wr

Keep

Ke

K

-Ben

Articulating the Self.

Articulation.

Most of us don’t articulate ourselves with ease. We all want to be listened to and heard. However most of us aren’t.

To articulate is to be focused, and to be distinct. Articulation is to bring the articles of your being into light.

 

 

The feeling that one gets when one watches and listens to those who stand for what they believe in – Those who speak from a place of truth, these poets, these icons -nThe goosebumps are stimulated, the eyes widened, the feeling of rising in your stomach.

Watch those who you love to watch talk. And watch those of whom you love the sound of their voices. They touch us. They move us.

How can we smile with our full beings from your heart to the tip of your head if we cannot articulate ourselves? We cannot, because we are full already with tension.

We hold our feelings back with the tensions in our chest, neck, and jaw. To articulate ourselves we must let our vibrations move, and in turn we shall move others.

The reason that we do not articulate our feelings is because we make ourselves smaller in order not to be seen. We fill ourselves up with stoppages; ‘I shouldn’t say that.’ or ‘Be quite, don’t speak.’ We block ourselves.

I challenge you to be seen – as I am challenging myself now. Give away the blocks that stop you from being heard, let them go.

Loosen your jaw, let it talk you.

‘A leader gives articulation to the imagination of the population.’ – Dr Jordan Peterson

 

-Ben