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

Wandering

Let the birds watch you

and listen to their call

Simply

Because it is beautiful

 

Let the feet walk you

wherever they ponder,

feel the dry mud and cool stone

maybe the crisp crackles of the twigs

will speak to you

 

Nature knows something

That it is fine

 

Ride the feeling into blissful silence

Simply to have a listen

 

Explore the rough bark of the trees,

They sit there quietly for many centuries

you know

 

There’s no need of a journey,

just simply wander

wondering

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

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.