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

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

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

The Drum: Cycles #2

 

Many one things learned in life

Trying to live in harmony

Over and Over

The Learning

became Learning about Learning

Until I Learned that the only advice is for one Learning

Repetition, yes,

but Learning

 

A factor of proportions so large is only true of a one who never did,

I skipped it.

Now I get it.

Don’t I?

 

One and final timing

Bam

or

Tap

or

Ting

And life’s discovered

Like the beat of a drum

 

You can write down the lyrics

But they aren’t music

Until one hears it

 

and

 

Listening is the toughest one

The hardest skin on the horse skin drum

With the lightest tap

Easier to get wrapped up in songs

Harder to learn to how to Drum
when

Drumming a Beat

is for you to listen,

When you do listen

is for I to see

Connections between melodies

 

For time to be

As meaningful as it can be

The rythm

Sometimes

Has as to run out.

 

 

– Ben

Things, Eyes, and their Brows: Cycles #1

What a wonderful world.

Bright fields and

Sunlight glazing

The grass and yellow flowers

Like supernovas

Splattered in a nebula.

 

Kids that will

One day turn to

Adults, their parents

Beating the drum,

Under and Over

 

The cycle is the weed and the apple tree.

 

Think

The line of the world

Of time going

Lineward

Into
Where?

 

Travelling anywhere,

Surfing a nervous curve back into itself,

because, because, because

What-ever

Else?

 

As a child I would hold onto

Ideas of heaven and the bestest places

Licking Icecream

With no bottom

Of the Icecream

Or the Cone.

 

Then the Blue Dolphin Swam

Mum and I

Meeting Monty,

Bestest of Friends,

We jumped to the stars on a trampoline

Battling Evil, the night away

 

Then the Morning comes,

Obviously

Ripping me from former worlds

The morning

Same as before

I, different

Others left behind or something…

The world is now greyer than before

Creation deleted and guarded

by others

 

These are the cycles

that keep us us.

 

Many wondering faces,

Smiling Sadness,

from grey into black

into red through to yellow

into green floors and brown trees

Then tables and chairs

and the glare of the top lights.

The Colours always continue

To find us holding our brows like shields

And wonder.

 

We seek the art of the beholder

and his eye

or her eye

or whatever it is

We see now, these

Eyes.

Beholders

and the like.

 

Things, Eyes, and their Brows.

 

Everything is Everything

and I’m letting go now.

 

-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

Breath

“Breathe fair these breaths, for these are your last breaths of true life.

For you are of ripeness unknown to you young. Never again will air pass through your lungs so full, so bright.

And the cold stone and slap of feet. The breeze and the rumpus warmth carried on the song of the trees.

This is all so clear now. In time it shall fade, all shall fade. The the crisp rocks will blur. And the water will muffle, and the breath deep in your lungs will cease to be, becoming shallow and thin.

The youth, wasted on the young, who are scarce to look back and know of their riches.”

-Ben