ah yes, I like playing
god, a slow pondering
god who wakes
up on a grey morning
declaring this is the colour
of heaven today,
because then we allow
all to slow down;
collectively sigh
#
we play in creation
as a small detail -
a driftwood construct
in idle hands,
a bow of a ship
in creative lands,
a boon to sailors
taking a leap,
like faith is uncharted
and needs a flag
#
#
I trust the sun will rise
of course I do
a big hill like Paekakariki
can only be a shadow
for so long
it must harbour light, and
I see the sun must blush
in embarrassment
for appearing late
#
I couldn’t find my way
out of bed
past the church
a spire steals the skyline
a tree steals a silhouette
nor could I find
a suitably grand entrance
like the one you keep
expecting
(you remember; golden arches)
#
God’s Fingers
pointing to Kapiti
a lone gull
gliding through stillness –
and all I can do
is roll you over
in bed and say something
a thousand times, like
Thank you
#
imagine the tui
gul-lop-doh-top
cop-lo-doh-top
their heaven full of praise, each song
one word of admiration
so personal, and
unnecessary
As part of Blog Action Day 2010:Water I had a go at writing a poem about water as it relates to me.
This poem is inspired by the beautiful work that Dr Masaru Emoto has done and is continuing to do.
“Water has a memory
and carries within it
our thoughts and prayers.As you yourself are water,
no matter where you are,
your prayers will be carried
to the rest of the world”
Dr Masaru Emoto
Here is my body
seventy percent water
that’s less than when I was born
when I was ninety percent
fluid potential
Here are my emotions
a cup for emptying
oceans like love
expressing more than one way
to live, when love is the only way
Here is my consciousness
netted into all consciousness
one ocean, many tides
one tide, one gravitation
for now
Here is my energy
subtle and vast
like the space between
me and the sky
me and my heart
Here I am
awareness
of all that I am and am not
of all that I can be
and where I chose to be
and I place myself
at my centre, offering
love and
so many thank yous
for sending
all of this …
to me, to all beings
to all waters
to all earths
namaste
the wind is playing dress ups
trying on different trees
pulling cloaks out of hillsides
settling on velvet
When I read The Nature Writer’s Dilemma by John Hay,
I couldn’t stop shaking with excitement.
Neurons were firing information and exclamations
out faster than my mind could hold on to them.
I confess, when a message of Truth touches me,
my body reacts by wanting to bolt to the toilet
and expel everything else left – everything
that was not touched must go, like all shit.
Old and inherited beliefs and indigestible ideas
swallowed to placate mum or society
churn in my gut.
Reading John Hay is a laxative for my lies.
The truth that I distilled from his essay I can sum up as this;
It is our responsibility to create union.
It is our responsibility as human beings, and as writers,
to create union.
This is a seed for me, so epic in potential, it’s frightening to hold.
The following is my first attempt at writing a ‘ghazal’ – a poem in couplets. It is an Urdu word in the tradition where the author is conversing with their beloved. It was described to me as couplets that sit as pearls on a necklace, each stanza beautiful in its own right. The exercise was to *not* be particularly coherent between stanzas, offering us to leap off into the next stanza.
I wrote about my beloved as chocolate, and the battles fought and lost over this.
Chocolate
The label on the packaging says Enigma
Rich velvety chocolate blended with a hint of mint.
A disciple in marketing should take lessons from Rumi,
Hafiz, and why not Buddha?
Christ makes you less impressionable
after fasting 40 days
But I tell you; the Truth tastes so good. It melts doubt.
All mysteries dissolve in Truth.
Should I follow Osho, he would allow my senses to touch
enlightenment. Chocolate, enigmatically, would get me there first.
~
I think the Buddha said something
about cravings.
~
Ramana Mahashi said you must want enlightenment
like a man on fire wants water. This is not a second-fiddle want.
Take my violin. Take my orchestra.
Take my audience, their families, and their families.
~
The Spanish Conquistadors have valuable cargo; coco nibs
spiced with chilli.
The Mayans predicted I would fall in love after all and I fall
and fall and fall and fall.
Destiny is finishing what you started and …
the falling leaf of inner peace is destined to land.
~
