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.

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

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

One and Other

Light and grounded

Floor and emptiness

More can be said of nothing and something

than each of one another

 

lengthen the short

to shorten the long

feelings knew all along

 

they swam in the waves given them

moulding paths and shapes

each moulding one another

until indistinguishable

 

The mind takes view

it carves out a separation

makes one into two and 3 into 4

 

fixing problems, creating more two’s

intervening

until too many to hold

all collapse into each other

 

Feeling need of one and other

 

the shapeless circle continues

not fighting a mind for knowing

for there is nothing to know

and no mind to know it.

 

-Ben