Ripple On Our Radius

In vast countries where a billion different voices

Murmur in their work and mull in thought

Are the seeds of revolution because choices

Lack the freedom, doing what we ought.

In the stitching of the garments and the ploughing

Fields we furrow for vague greater good

There are questions as we bow our heads to tasking

Asking if we’re doing all we should

To be the one, the only one, we’re born to,

To realise the goals, the greater aims,

To be the actions that may speak because we owe to

Selves and world, justice in our names.

In the factories and countries wide where souls ache,

Trammeled while we’re working for the man,

Eked existence slowly lived while hearts break,

Years swiftly bypass doing, as we think, the best we can.

In the motion of the moon and yearly tidings

Howls inside are rising, seeking sky,

Portents of a future, bands of wildness,

Growling in the question, why me, why.

Dare we risk, in idle speculation,

The what ifs, should I’s, didn’ts, not my job,

Plodding on, a controlled automation,

While frustrations muster, gathering in mob.

Can we be the changes in our lifetime,

The only voice we’re given for a while,

Can we work and think, still being active,

Ripple on a radius within our mile. 

Failure To Transmit

Media,

Main job,

To question and inform.

Methodology almost immaterial

In raising awareness.

Religion,

Only job,

To manifest love in the world.

Methodology immaterial.

One failed in its task.

Reasons immaterial.

Both fail regularly.

Excuses immaterial.

Failure to transmit.

Babies, Bath Water And Wheels

One of those days where laughs have been absent,

Well, not absent, but definitely too few,

Too many reasons for not seeing the funny,

Like a failure to perceive different views.

Listening to others, all serious with cause

For things that, frankly, are lame,

Waffling on about nothings of note

With nary a pause in each frame.

Watching enactments of things seen before,

Discussed and never quite sorted,

Ideas never birthed, though pregnant with points,

Incited then swiftly aborted.

Boring, ’tis true, not the kids, not all,

But the professionals when gathered as one

At meetings of yore, the same as before,

All talk and nothing is done.

Not a laugh to be had though god knows I giggled,

Mostly just under my breath,

Demented I was and tired of each cause

But mainly just bored to death.

It’s the plague of the system that seeks to improve,

Hashes, rehashes, all logged,

Eyes glazing over, not mine, I’m too nosey,

Mental notes to be blogged.

Young woman beside me has kids on her mind,

Baby tended at home by a carer,

Well looked after, no doubts whatsoever

But I know her mind’s really there.

Not present, another, he’s gone with the wind,

Slouching deeper, bent double, spaced out,

Bored and disinterested by monotoned leader,

I know him well enough to not doubt

That thoughts on his mind revolve round his football

And he runs, so he’s thinking of that,

Or his wife and his kids, how he’ll moan when he’s home,

I don’t blame him, though he acts like a brat.

One says her piece and I stifle a yawn,

Can’t help it, it’s been a long day,

We’re all just tired, in need of a rest

So I suggest we’ve said all we can say.

And lo and behold the leader agrees!

She’s fed up too with the nonsense,

It’s good to know that it’s not just the minions

Who recognise some common sense.

Another will follow as they always do,

Another and then just one more,

And then once again to tick all the boxes,

They’ve made teaching a helluva chore.

It’s rife, so it seems, that all that we do,

In jobs, professions, careers

Requires so much talking, so much distilled shit

Till it’s streaming and pouring from ears.

I have to confess I do say my piece

Though usually it’s not well-received

When I remind all gathered that nothing much changes

Gasps! I’m not being believed.

Once in a while would be fine for a purpose

If action and sense would prevail,

But, not holding my breath till retirement comes,

Been there, seen that, done it and hail –

It circles around – like proverbially wheel,

Though no one admits that’s the case

Unless you’re a bit older with a trap you can’t shut

And enjoy the looks on their face

At heresy spouted, remembrances past

And how this is just as I find

Reinventing the wheel but not nearly as well,

Babies and baths come to mind.

Now, my poem’s as long as the meeting we had,

And there’s nothing visual for you

To redeem all the talk, to survey and to think,

So you’re dismissed ‘cos that’s what I do. 🙂

 

 

Blind Ripples

The time will come, as sure it must,

When flesh and bones return to dust.

Ere this happens to mine state

I challenge life, what may await

Round corners I have yet to veer,

On roads and paths that I must steer

As true to self as I can be

While hurting none as best I see.

The trouble with my self-direction,

Modus operandus, introspection,

Is, I can’t see what acts I do

May taint the world for me and you.

I struggle on as blind man feels,

Alerting senses to what’s real,

Believing that my ripples cast

May count for something that could last

Into eternal consciousness

And, somehow, one day I’ll be blessed

By loving light that comforts soul,

Suffuses dark when all is told

In story of my life on earth,

That task completed had some worth.

Credo

Do you believe in laughter held in truth,

In knowing that words spoken find their mark,

That a look, a touch, the gentlest hand may form

A smile that grows within, ignites a spark?

 

Do you believe that gladness grows inside,

Overflows to others open to

Receiving joy as recompense for living

When its trials and labours overwhelm and threaten you?

 

Do you believe that hurting ends in time,

That inner worlds are balanced by all love,

That questions yet unanswered cause a thrill,

Their discoveries a golden treasure trove?

 

Do you believe that somewhere inside light

The heart of matter hides a great reveal,

That nothing happens without cause effect

And perceptions make our own world feel what’s real?

 

Do you believe that logos is the word

Or that words alone confuse a greater thought,

That lips that speak the lies betray the way

And sometimes guidance dwells in what’s not sought?

 

Do you believe in fairies and in trolls,

In monster lochs where hidden depths conceal,

Do you believe in equine wings and angels,

In many wondrous stories though unreal?

 

Do you believe in suspending disbelief

To enter into fantasies that pleasure

While still inside you know factual from dream

But recognise you owe some childlike measure?

 

Do you believe that living is worth living,

That each breath you take admits a purpose here,

That nothing’s yet decided or completed

And that only you can change your greatest fears?

 

Do you believe in worlds you find in books,

In scenes unfolding on the movie screen,

In comic superheroes who astound,

Unveiling attributes too rarely seen?

 

Do you believe the essence of all stories

Conveys some truth distilled to purest form,

That much of what we honour most in tales

Are aspirations we would wish as norm?

 

Do you believe that children hold the key,

That complications thwart our best intentions,

That simplicity and innocence are essential to all meaning

To underwrite and clarify the best of lessons?

 

I do.

 

Whetstone

Spit and rub,

hone the cleaver,

sharpen

surgeon’s scalpel, your knife,

circulate moisture

border to rim,

glanced instruments

worthy to slice

 through leather-bound carcass,

the toughest of flesh,

diseased

or virgin pure,

unanaesthetised,

we cope, we grimace,

we lather,

so we endure.

Compacted grit,

bedevilled,

measured,

quarrier’s immortal bone

stropped metallica,

purposed, wet,  

abraded life

against dry whetstone.

Rotate the edge, buckle not 

when dryness 

halts, grinds progress

in task,

double-sided finish

separates blunt

from acuity’s  strength,

perspicacity sharpened, unmasked.

 

Only Today

For Kerry. It’s always worth it.

 

Shared understanding,

Only today, your

Liquefied reflections poured forth.

 

Meanderings. musings,

Only today, may

Prove just some of your worth.

 

One single spark,

Only today, ignites and

Kindles a flame,

 

Darkest of night,

only today, may be enlightened

By words you proclaim

 

Blessed perceptions,

Only today, bearing

Your flint and your steel,

 

May fire one heart,

Only today, for

Someone who knows you are real.

 

 Tomorrow will dawn,

Today will go on

And writing will still play its part.

 

Posting and working,

Reflecting , supporting,

Loving with all of your heart.

 

Nothing surreal,

In words that may heal,

Fellowship known from afar.

 

You may never know it,

Today may not show it

But follow your bright shining star. 

 

 

 

 

Make Haste

Suckers for love, all,

We give and receive.

Without it, mere nothing,

What would we believe?

A future unchallenged,

Unfounded, gone missing.

Love is a pleasure.

But then, so is kissing!

 

Sensory pleasures,

Love offers as such,

Enabling devotion,

Without it so much

Passion for loving

Would surely fall flat,

All work and endurance,

Nought wrong with that

 

Except that the adage says,

All work and no play

Makes Jack way too dull.

Well, Jill feels that way.

Uphill the struggle

Without all the hugs,

The kisses, caresses,

Our heartstrings, they tug.

 

No chapters or verses

In love’s fairy story,

Songs sung and melodies

Depict all the glory.

Sensations in mind

Surface to skin,

Heart coincides,

Wonder begins.

 

Eyes spark a light,

Words speak the truth,

Kissing, soft touching

Remind aged and youth

That senses unveiled,

Stroked in and without,

Love is the answer,

Of this have no doubt.

 

Uncovered in body,

More clearly in mind,

Thoughts seek their equal,

More surely to find

The one, with eyes closed

In darkness distinguish,

Light pursues light

Acknowledge, relinquish

 

Desire in all functions,

Bodies so mated,

Encapsulate all in

Manner created.

Wholesome, familiar

Comprehended, well known

Sought blindly, conceded

Accredited, full shown.

 

No pleasure in living

If love is not borne

All joy and happiness,

All zest, have been shorn.

Seek with eyes open,

Be ready to give

And receive, that’s important,

Make haste to live.