Perfection

Perfection is a state of mind

That only those, imperfect find,

For such is life, we all must fall

And learn that we know naught at all.

 

Knowledge found in books and plays,

In life experience, in days

And years of searching for a meaning

In life and death, with woeful keening;

 

None but those, who humbly claim,

Perfection is no more than name –

For beauty woven by nature’s hand,

In mountains, lakes, on seas and land,

‘Tis truly perfect, for once made,

Their fairness falters not, nor fades.

 

But, perfect seen, in one’s reflection,

In looks or mind, is feint direction.

The breath that blows from starry skies

Looks down at us, cannot despise

The form of spirit generated,

Perfect will and Man, so mated,

With a world of plenitude;

Guardians of all that is truly good.

 

Perfection then, must surely be,

A measure of hypocrisy

If all that’s known is unrelated,

Ignorance of all that is created.

Perfection bows to one who’s greater

The light of life, unequalled maker.

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Unequal Equations

Late that day, he came,

Times already past.

Distant shores, unknown

And future would not last.

For father’s sake,

One choice to make,

A reparatory gift,

Suspending hostile measures

And soul, to heaven lift.

Comfort in the giving,

An act of pain and grief,

Solace in salvation,

Unfathomable belief.

Unequal in equations,

Scientific points of view,

Diplomatic harmony,

True plus true, still true.

Be My Better Me

In darkness, you will find me,

Bring light to show the way.

In troubled times, you hold me,

And bear my cares.

In dreams, your spirit guides me,

Breath on breath together.

In truth, you love me,

Better than another.

In unity; we are one,

Two halves bound.

Be my better me.

Dinner Date

Tailor-made to suit occasion,

Dressed for best to dine.

Sumptious food served patiently,

A red, exquisite wine.

 

Eyes flirting ‘cross the linen,

Morsels mouthed and sipped,

Languid lids and licking lips,

Suggestive seducing quips.

 

Magic spells surround them,

Other diners disappear.

Lost in sensory signals and

Words, only heart can hear.

Looking Beyond

After posting my poem yesterday on ‘Pain’, I have been humbled to read more posts of people who suffer with daily, soul-grinding pain. Their remarkable fortitude and spirit leaves me ashamed at what I had but only glimpsed. I truly can only imagine what they suffer on a daily basis and I, for one, hope to look beyond the visible to see more clearly what is not always evident. I doff my hat to all who cope with ongoing suffering. For old friends and new.

Entrails ripped, innards exposed.

I see your hurt. You’re gory.

But intact body, stood up straight?

Well, that’s a different story.

 

You appear to be quite rational,

Your faculties all there.

You’re surely not disabled?

I see no stick, no chair.

 

Chronic pain. What does that mean?

A constant, aching hurt?

Well, I’m sore too. Mine’s just as bad.

I’d bet you, shirt for shirt.

 

I stubbed my toe, my tooth it aches,

A wasp has stung my arm.

Of course, I hear you’re suffering.

I suffer, harm for harm.

 

‘Let’s swap your minor ailments.

I’ll trade you, tit for tat.

I’ll cope with throbbing headache

For some time. I’ll do that.

 

‘Before you take mine to yourself,

This warning I must say;

My pain is omnipresent,

It lives here night and day.

 

‘I’ll take the agony of birth,

I’ll take the gallstones too,

I’ll take what you can throw at me,

The breaks and falls and flu.

 

‘I’d trade the lot, I’d take your pain,

If mine would just depart,

For constant, daily suffering

Hurts body, mind and heart.

 

‘I won’t complain. I’ll bear it.

I’ll smile when I feel grim.

But open up your eyes, my dear,

And look at her and him.

 

‘Pain is not an entity

To be seen and to admire.

It’s invisible and treacherous,

Like garrotted throat by wire.

 

‘So, fill my cup with medicine,

Dull my avid brain,

Pollute my limbs with poison,

So I might not go insane.

 

‘It’s crazy how this hardship,

Cloaked by hidden means,

Eats through my corpus, Christ!

My pain invades my dreams.

 

‘I pray for inner healing.

For healing, too, without,

I pray for understanding,

So that others may not doubt.’

A Gamble

It’s too late in the morning for reason.

No excuse seems valid to me.

You dealt your cards, now use them.

Cheating can never be free.

There’s a tax on your woeful behaviour,

A poll to pay; you won’t pass.

There are dues you had to consider,

If you wanted our union to last.

The thrill you had in your dealings,

The hand, to me, that you dealt,

No thought considered the feelings.

Was it worth it for all that you felt?

I’ve thrown my cards on the table,

I relinquish the stakes that I bet,

I’ll take my pot to a different casino.

You stay with the one that you met.

Everything has to be paid for,

All gambles, consider the odds.

Luck, in life and at tables,

Lies in the lap of the gods.

The above is not a reflection on my relationship, as someone expressed concern that a previous one was. It is a combination of imagination and knowledge of people close to me who have had experience of the above.

Marked for Ownership

Marked, for good measure,

For ownership,

By knife or ink or ring,

Scented, sprayed and harnessed,

Quash the soul that wants to sing.

 

Come naked,

No worldly possessions,

Leave all past stories behind,

Bring me no honest confessions,

Come, with open heart and mind.

 

No markings of boundary

Or territory,

No quelling my tune with your song.

Wide open, voluntary and welcome.

Only then can each belong.