Listening To The Kiss

Gap no bigger than a purse of lips

Emits its pouted frequency

Kiss from synchronicity

And sighs

Hole as deep as worlds dug

From long distanced chaos

Erupts to terminal velocity

Steady tears from beyond

Cry.

Wired to the world

Charging partnership

Love letters and memos

Scented and sent

Tries

Escalating frequency

Duration

Immediacy

Quietens to listen

Responses aggravated

Agitated acuity observed

Sighs

Begins again

Is there anyone there, it breathes,

Who is listening

To the kiss

From appellate skies

Serendipity, Synchronicity And All That Jazz

Bear With Me. I Do Get To The Point. I Think. Eventually.

Should I apologise now or later? Feck, let’s make it later.

OK, I know that on Friday I waxed a bit about Scotland and the beauties of its scenery and the quality of the land that makes me feel proud to call it home. Blame the whiskey and a hard week.

I feel its history and its trials and tribulations. But feelings aren’t always enough. Not always. There are thoughts and there is reason. There is right and there is wrong.

I’ve been pondering politics and independence.

Don’t switch off!

That’s not what I’m talking about here. It’s just that sometimes things come together in a magical way. And I do question, then just accept the synchronicity that exists in the universe. The hand of god touching. Poking finger into pond and causing ripples.

Where the feck to begin.

I could begin today with Shirley Maya posting an almost identical post to mine insofar as it touched on the voice of womankind within the world. A huge absence I think anyone with truth in their hearts would acknowledge. Politics has been for so long the realm of men. It’s been that way for many reasons. You know them all. I can’t be arsed listing them. If you want to, send me an email. And I’ll fill that page.

I just don’t have time or inclination to do it here.

Women have been, and continue to be, under represented in the voice of the world.

And, NO, I’m not talking of the burn-your-bra-men-are-bastards-sort-of women who portray womankind in such a distorted light.

I’m talking of your mother. And mine. Of all mothers. Of your wife. Your love. Your sister. Your daughter. Why are they not listened to in the way they should be by all men who claim to love them?

Why are they petted and cossetted as brainless princesses with doe eyes until they reach THAT age and then they are every man’s jail bait?

I will make generalisations here that I acknowledge may apply equally to men. I get that. Anyone with half a brain knows that there are good and bad men and women.

But men are still over represented in the political realm regardless of their goodness or badness. Or maybe because of it. 😉

I was thinking last night of some of the women who have featured in the political field for one reason or another and the names that sprang immediately to mind filled me with dismay. Maggie Thatcher. (God forgive me! I still have to ask that every time I think of her). Imelda Marcos. What a feckin’ eejit and betrayer of womankind. Then I thought Cleopatra! (Shit! I’ve just realised why I started thinking of Roman soldiers and then did the tortoise post! Gawd, my mind!)

Anyhoo, I’m already losing track of where I’m going with this. OK, you too.

To the chase.

Lots of stuff that I won’t go into ‘cos you’ll fall asleep or go, ‘Oh yeah?’ are coming together for me and making me believe that nothing really happens without cause. And effect.

Scotland. That’s where I started. I think.

Yeah, this guy, Magnus-MacFarlane Barrow. Scottish guy. From a place called Dalmally. I had been involved in his project ‘Mary’s Meals’ through schools. Knew I recognised the name. My mum had gone to a place called Medjugorje in Yugoslavia where she further realised the power of Jesus and His mother in her life. Yup. Knock on effect. Two of the people who had visited that place gave over their house as a retreat centre to anyone needing ‘time-out’ and rejuvenation. Calum and Mary-Anne MacFarlane Barrow. Parents of this other chappie.

Then tonight my brother posts on Facebook a message for me to listen to –Tommy Sheridan and Scottish Independence dealing with poverty and justice and then posts the one below.

.

All mothers (and fathers, I know!) must feel for the plight of these children.

My mother was involved with this family. I have been involved with this family. They’re Scottish. The cause is now a worldwide one. Can Scotland make it on its own? Do mothers have a voice? Should women be listened to in the global political arena? Who will make that happen? Or let that happen?

Am I making any feckin’ sense here? No wonder I write poetry.

There are times when right just feels right. And this feels right. It’s also good reasoning.

There is one species of humankind. There are two genders. We must listen to each other.

We really must listen to the voice of mothers. Because, with the odd exception, they love selflessly. And that’s what the world needs.

And I KNOW so do men. But the voices must be shared. How else do we achieve balance?

And now should I apologise? Nah. I don’t think so. 🙂 x

We Are One

Taste sweet unity,

Inhale essence of

Understanding.

We are one.

Pain and love felt,

Synchronicity,

Simplicity.

We are one.

Truths whispered,

Known

And heard.

We are one.

Best and worst,

Inherent

In all.

We are one.

Beauty surveyed

In shared eyes,

Seeing all.

We are one.

Loneliness

Departed,

Hands joined.

We are one.

Carved,

Moulded,

Created from one.

We are one.

No Coincidences

Serendipity, synchronicity,

Call it what you will.

When stars collide in heavens,

Halt and feel the chill.

It happens for a reason,

I’m pretty sure of this.

Like meeting for the first time,

Sharing that first kiss.

The strangest interaction,

When life blows you clean away

And all that once seemed normal

Now holds little sway.

Collision course in heavens,

For spirits in the night, who

May, someday, meet upon the earth

And everything feels so right.

Nothing comes from nothing

But so does everything.

Matter matters, spirit matters,

The joy that both may bring.

So question not when fate decides

To throw a spanner in the works

And stops your little factory.

It could just be good luck.

But one day soon, eventually,

The plan may realise

The best for you, you never knew.

It all may make you wise

In world and spirit happenings

Where some things you think you fear

Until the day it hits you. Wham!

And makes everything crystal clear.

 

Yet again, Mark, you got me thinking through the night. 🙂

As One

Strength will lend a voice

Amid noise and confusion.

In weakness, valour may dare.

 

In weakness, valour may dare

Scale mountains, fly freely

While fear still crushes bones.

 

While fear still crushes bones

And innards liquefy,

Fight or flee is chosen.

 

Fight or flee is chosen

Instinctively, unconsciously.

Protection and survival the aim.

 

Protection and survival the aim

Of life – to adapt, change,

Signify and glorify the spirit within.

 

Signify and glorify the spirit within,

Rejoicing in source and unity,

Recognising, in awe, invisible threads that bind.

 

Recognising, in awe, invisible threads that bind,

Drawing one to another, connecting the edges,

Expanding, creating anew the whole.

 

Expanding, creating anew the whole,

Intricately woven and bound,

Harmonised, synchronised, complete.

Conceptualised

In mind you are

Where thoughts propound,

In twilight’s shifting storm,

Transmissions

Regulated by

Heartfelt instincts warm.

Conceptualised

Impulsiveness

Urges clarity,

Synchronised illusions

Roar

For authenticity.

Restrictive brain

Conflicts with aim

Trepidation normal,

Redacted thoughts

Encounter dreams,

Civility fashions formal.

Daughter of the Universe

She did not have a choice in love.

It happened.

Daughter of the Universe just fell.

 

A breeze began far out in space.

It happened.

Daughter of the Universe glanced up.

 

The gentle breeze threw stars to earth.

It happened.

Daughter of the Universe inhaled.

 

The stars became a part of her.

It happened.

Daughter of the Universe lit up.

 

A light began to show in her.

It happened.

Daughter of the Universe believes

 

Love is cast from up above.

It happened.

Daughter of the Universe cries out.

 

The stars, the moon, the galaxies, smile down on her.

It happened.

Daughter of the Universe knows love.

 

As above, so far below.

It happened.

Daughter of the Universe, synchronised.

 

Two stars above were drawn together.

It happened.

Daughter of the Universe was there.

 

Heavenly bodies collide, explode.

It happened.

Daughter of the Universe felt all.

 

Energy transmits from form.

It happened.

Daughter of the Universe absorbed.

 

She did not have a choice in love.

It happened.

Daughter of the Universe reborn.