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.

Change

Hours lost their meaning to me

Time just moves like a blur or light and dark

This doesn’t mean that I don’t remember

the shoulds or the shouldn’t’s

no, they eat at my soul, my belly.

But

I suppose it’s just about keeping going

Self knowing, sometimes when possible

as long as the heart is beating

and one can listen to the sound of the rain

beating down roof and the windows

Then it seems like

everything is alright

 

There are pick me ups

then the inevitable falls

The less the better

although the sharing does count for something

you know

when it’s better

to be clean and warm and dry, it’s not real.

Resisting the waves,

noone ever really wins

we all wash up on the shore,

with our memories,

becoming the skeletons in our closets,

 

The taste of joy one day in our mouths

one day becomes blood

Yet we never really live like that,

Like the little things now would ever really leave,

Gods granted,

Not until we lose, that

is, only the emptiness speaks fully.

Just remember the day of our births

the blur of indifferent curiosity,

the way it was,

it changed.

 

And do we ever change

really

The Fear

Bright lights

Late nights

no reason

for former or latter

or the eyes

becoming watched

and unable to see

all in order to alleviate

The Fear.

 

The colour was stolen

by a grey thief,

an ogre under burned bridges

in shadows

 

A vacuum makes

the mind jump up and down,

though the dark nothing knows the body in it’s limpness

and tells why the blue waters turned a stagnant green,

why algae and fungus

rid the lily pads of youth,

becoming the green

on that it depended

 

To fall

or not to fall

 

The itch grows

It knaws slowly under the skin

Sapping at the life blood

 

It’s felt in the flowers and the trees

and the birds and the bees

and the insects

 

 

Once, layed on a soft pillow of green spires

a break to pass

while staring up at the sky,

the time to be filled

is so far away

still

just sleep…

 

Then seeing the original eye

in a cluster of cloud

in the shape of a lotus flower

 

Understanding a sight

A connection

The heart pumped oxygen into the belly of the wilder-beast

 

that Breathing strength through the ascension

of the paths of the mountain

and Listening

With unflinching peace,

beguiled leaves

to fall,

to be reborn.

 

 

-Ben

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

Integrate

Find the pieces

of your heart

That make you more

than the sum of your

parts

 

The One Path

to Anything

Everything

is under the nose’

and makes us breathless

 

I’m called by surfaces

they sing me

songs of pleasure

 

I run and run

sometimes I listen

getting caught in the pleasure prison

 

Measurable length

and width

We’re in a prism

 

Becoming what we love and hate

Giving over to focus,

re-membering

to spirit

or geography

 

Awareness is the division

of the north and the south

away from here

 

Wanting Feeling

for the wear and tear

for the body

for the people hurt

for the people helped

typical of Humans

 

Caught in a net of shadows

unaware of the true nature

delusions of

self grandeur

dribbling

through the cracks of the fortress

 

Now breaking the fortress to let it in

Realising that

I was born in sin

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

Getting Older

When our joints start grinding
On nights I tend to wander.
My joints didn’t used to hurt of bending
Grinding, grinding, every day
Getting older
Things I used to say,
Now I’m telling
To kids who nod and hear me
But don’t listen to a thing

You stare at yourself
The mirror is shining you back
Stubble and broader shoulders
Frame you in a way unfamiliar
Like sitting in a carriage
Full of strangers
Realising that you are one of them

Advice I was given
Schizm.
Empty truths
till Cliche’s became real one day
At the other end of a candle
Time is burning away
and I haven’t shown my light yet.

Only 19
But at 12 I was only 12 and planning my future
at 30 I’ll be working for play
and Maybe I’ll play till I work
but I’ll be too old for that

And no, I’ll say,
I’m only getting started
The days of being old have never begun
nor never departed
I do what I do because I do feel like doing it
Your words are your own
So keep on doing it

…Something anyway…

What you say
Is what you have to say
but I want to hear what
you
and everyone
has to say
because they have it
They’re all on their tracks
There’s no cover for it
Even with a sugar coat
It’s the meaning and
Time’s floating away with substance running out

Wandering about my joints now
I listened to them
they say take the main-stance and time will take you
He nodded, I listened.

That was the time I washed through my stance firmly
and found myself joined in the warm fluid
Moving
Getting older

-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

The Way to Learn Skills

Skills within Skills within Skills. They are progressive, they are meticulous. A conscientious individual will find themselves with more than they came for if one continuous to practice in this way.

My Sifu once told me: ‘When you practice one technique, you are practicing them all’.

This is true of any skill. When you are learning a skill correctly, developing yourself in this area of your life, it has a cascading ripple effect onto the other areas of your life.

The approach that I have taken recently has been one of the slow and diligent learning of each individual technique that is presented to me to learn. Take the time to get each one perfect.

For example, my foremost martial art is Practical Wing Chun Kung Fu. During training, the temptation is to try and learn the most fancy and complex move possible. First and foremost this is because it looks cool, and feels ninja’y. However, those in class who really flourish at the martial art are those who take the time to practice the basics as if they were the end goal. They practice them as if they were hallowed, perfecting each tiny adjustment in order to have great structure and great power generation. They always are in the perfect shape and the advantageous position.

This approach to learning yields results. I would invite you to give it a try… To learn your piano scales as if they were the handling of a baby. As if each note required precision and great care; perfectly placed

This may take a week of practicing for 1-2 hours a day, but you continue in your daily practice once or twice a day when you have the chance, and you will get to a point of proficiency and ease. The scales will be in your hands. Now it is time for you to practice faster. When you get a note wrong, then you slow down a bit and work with mindfulness of this structural weakness in your skill… When you get it flowing with ease, you may speed it up more.

Then you move on to the next progression from the scale and apply the former into your music… Musical progressions.

‘Practice does not make perfect. Only perfect practice perfect.’ – Vince Lombardi

-Ben