my / superpower

Tags

2011, ambiguity, Batman, Beast, Buddhanature, Daredevil, dilemma, disempowerment, distrust, Dr Strange, emptiness, Hulk, identity, ignominy, ingenuity, insight, Kryptonite, naïveté, poem, presence, prohibition, release, Spiderman, stealth, Superman, superpower, Thor, tragedy, wisdom

 

 

 

                                               my
                                superpower

                I am not implacable like Superman
                                              which is both my own Kryptonite
                                and my own presence

                I am not grim like the Batman
                                              which is both my own Tragedy
                                and my own wisdom

                I am not angry like the Hulk
                                              which is both my own Ignominy
                                and my own stealth

                I am not strange like Stephen
                                              which is both my own Ambiguity
                                and my own naïveté

                I am not a human god like Thor
                                              which is both my own Dilemma
                                and my own ease

                I am not webbed in moral struggle like Spiderman
                                              which is both my own Disempowerment
                                and my own ingenuity

                I am not fore-sighted like Daredevil
                                              which is both my own Prohibition
                                and my own insight

                I am not mellifluent like the Beast
                                              which is both my own Distrust
                                and my own poem

                                no,

                                no

                                my super power
                                is far far greater
                                than all of these

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

Batman wormhole: early evening
Daredevil wormhole: now, the verticals go down as well as they go up
disempowerment wormhole: tag cloud poem V – draft-ness
Dr Strange wormhole: Doctor Strange I – the trashcan tilted the better to see now the street
emptiness wormhole: tag cloud poem IX – haiku is awkward / the more that is left in / like uncombed hair
identity wormhole: need
naïveté wormhole: true nature
Superman wormhole: sit
superpower wormhole: exactly equal
Thor wormhole: song of irrelevance

 

true nature

Tags

2016, adult, balance, being, discipline, doing, dwelling, flower, hidden, identity, importance, love, naïveté, nurture, obligation, self, talking to myself, true nature, vague, variation

 

 

 

                                                                true nature

                                   of my personality, true nature
                                   of my self: to be vaguely and
                                   variously focussed on event

                                   mostly missing what is seen
                                   important and dwelling lovingly
                                   with what is hidden in plain view;

                                   since I have become the adult,
                                   as obliged, I have learnt to
                                   override my naïveté with

                                   dead discipline; my naïveté
                                   is a slight flowering of my true
                                   nature, it should be nurtured

                                   in order for ‘my’ to dwell in
                                   my own true true ‘self’ … or
                                   maybe I just haven’t being

                                   my true self all that skilfully?
                                   I haven’t done wrong, I just
                                   haven’t balanced all that well

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

balance wormhole: always
being wormhole: through
doing wormhole: just saying, is all IV: // lost
identity & talking to myself wormhole: and that’s where I are
love wormhole: Quiver of / Tiffany – poewieview #20
naïveté wormhole: because
obligation wormhole: the lines are not that straight / after all

 

because

Tags

2013, acceptance, armchair, distraction, green, grey, laziness, letting go, living, mist, naïveté, posture, practice, pride, relief, scaffolding, sitting, staring, wonder

 

 

 

                                even the crap sittings
                                where I waft around anywhere
                                but where I am

                                even the lazy sittings
                                where I sit on a chair and stare
                                feeling sorry

                                even the workaday ones
                                where I sit fussing around the posture
                                like a scaffold

                                all are valuable
                                if I accept the sheds of pride as they are
                                because

                                later in a day
                                as life wafts and rolls by itself
                                allofasudden something
                                is just not done anymore
                                and I let it go naïvely
                                cast adrift in a grey green mist which
                                I accept
                                with relief
                                and fresh
                                wonder

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

acceptance wormhole: sooner or later
distraction wormhole: start where / you are II
green wormhole: Saturday
grey wormhole: library windows
letting go wormhole: Seven A.M, 1948
living & mist wormhole: ‘went up to London and what did I see; …’
naïveté wormhole: poessay X: soul love
posture wormhole: grrr
practice wormhole: when / ever
sitting wormhole: when writing // stay

 

poessay X: soul love – poewieview #2

Tags

2016, appearence, art, assimilation, asymmetry, Bowie, bread, butter, centrifugal, centripetal, chords, communication, defining, depression, dichotomy, eclectic, existence, gold, I, identity, illusion, inside, insight, leaves, liberation, living, love, meaning, music, naïveté, nose, octave, others, outside, piano, poessay, right & wrong, seeing, semantics, soul, superhero, syntax, warp, weft, words, world

                poessay X: soul love

                thin depression
                like butter over frozen bread
                when things go well, a shoulder tap,
                the superhero mask with no nose;

                somethings is not right
                outside or in, oneself aren’t what I thought, we
                just don’t co-ordinate as we should
                creating havoc with syntax; but there

                the gold, the outsight,
                that things isn’t quite right
                allows a cleaner, naïve sights of your leaves¹ as long as ‘I don’t fit’
                doesn’t get in the way;

                maybe ‘things’ don’t exist as they appear (or,
                even, shouldn’t),
                that everything are wrong (with
                trans-dualistic semantic); where depression

                is trying to maintain an illusion in a world we did not create (‘wauuugh’),²
                not proof that ‘we’ is wrong but insight
                to what ‘things’ truly is, and where
                art could be liberative,

                if communicative; which is why Bowie w/is
                important: no sense but the weft of asymmetry
                and the warp of dichotomy in … love
                for other/s-ness-eh city, where eclectic

                assimilation is the means of meaning, always
                far wider than defined, where chordings and octaves are
                centripuntal to word; or not …
                with damn good piano solo

 

¹ this piece of work grew out of a conversation with Johnbalaya which we had over coffee and jam on toast one mornings in the pages of Powieviews; orange juice anyone?
² an mlewisredford No-Prize if you can tell me which character’s strap-line this is; c’mon, c’mon …

Read the collected movements in David Bowie: Movements in Suite Major

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

Bowie & identity & naïveté wormhole: sixty four sixty five
communication wormhole: … the discipline of shamatha / the waft of vipashyana
depression & music wormhole: Poewieviews
gold & living & love wormhole: finding my own true nature – Plumstead, Woolwich, 190915
leaves wormhole: along
meaning & world wormhole: let the dreams / become the ghosts they / always were
others & piano wormhole: com- / mute
poessay wormhole: poessay IX – … just saying, is all II
seeing wormhole: Office at Night, 1940
superhero wormhole: sit
words wormhole: when writing // stay

 

sixty four sixty five – poewieview #1

Tags

1964, 1965, 2016, Bowie, brick, cafe, closed, evening, eyes, future, green, identity, naïveté, office, rain, roads, self, streetlight, streets, time, walking, white, wind, windows

                     sixty four sixty five

                     cutting off windy street
                     down the side-road past
                     the café now closed in

                     the evening night under
                     whitewashed windows
                     out from under the rain

                     and street light where
                     bricks turn seaweed-
                     green, is an office

                     which we all don’t
                     know about; well, I’m
                     gonna make it by my

                     selves strolling up
                     strolling down or
                     standing there making

                     a fool out of me over
                     street corners the next
                     day, with new eyes and

                     boots

 

… OK, maybe NOT every single piece of work, then; well not until he hits his stride and I hit mine; this is – believe it or not – from Bowie’s first cluster of works: Liza Jane, 1964; Louie Louie Go Home, 1964; I Pity the Fool, 1965; Take My Tip, 1965, only one of which was actually written by him; they’re all in there somewhere fore-striding the next day …

 

Read the collected movements in David Bowie: Movements in Suite Major

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

1964 wormhole: 1964
Bowie wormhole: Poewieviews
evening wormhole: Hotel Room, 1931
eyes wormhole: David Bowie – Iris
green wormhole: “walking …”
identity & rain & streetlight & streets & time & wind wormhole: finding my own true nature – Plumstead, Woolwich, 190915
naïveté wormhole: relapse
roads wormhole: portrait: / two pigeons
walking wormhole: walking through Lewes
white wormhole: 1967
windows wormhole: the open window

 

relapse

Tags

2015, ambition, breakdown, childhood, circular poem, creativity, depression, dissolving, doing, doubt, expectation, eyes, heart, history, identity, letting go, life, naïveté, pride, realisation, self, self-love, thinking, time

 

direction of read:

 

 

                                                                               it is amazing
                                         I realise because                            how much
                       again and again before                                             the same old
                     unambiguous heart                                                           ambition can
             to find my naïve and                                                                      cover the
                 again and again                                                                              same old illness
              self and relapse                                                                                    and seem to be
    will have to build my                                                                                        the cure I suppose
  that it isn’t although I                                                                                           I should be grateful
   eventually heartened                                                                                            that I’m not cured
         broken, and then                                                                                             as I thought –
            and I am heart-                                                                                            gives me something
   virtuous was despite                                                                                             more for pride
    I thought everything                                                                                          to relinquish
       creative was despite                                                                                      and love to
          I thought everything                                                                                dissipate leaving
               was always despite                                                                          the cure ready-
                      I thought the cure                                                                 prescribed and
                              but for the doubt;                                                   dosed – a self-healed
                             slightly arched brows –                                 man without edges
                                                 without history and

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

breakdown wormhole: right to be
childhood wormhole: just words wiped across a line
circular poem wormhole: a known from without the unknown
creativity wormhole: sometimes
depression wormhole: anti-depressants
doing & identity wormhole: un … able
eyes wormhole: Dr Strange VI – to hold my face to the world
history wormhole: 1959 –– MANHATTAN –– 2012
letting go wormhole: I need to keep my eyes open / in meditation
life & thinking wormhole: step
naïveté wormhole: scattered
realisation wormhole: gently straighten
time wormhole: the edge has come …

 

scattered

Tags

2011, being, connection, finding, identity, living, meaning, naïveté, obligation, seeing, settling, talking to myself, time, writing

 

 

 

                                              writing is finding
                                meaning in things
                as they are

                                              is seeing
                                the connection between things
                that springs them from inertia

                                              is wearing
                                the 3D glasses that see things
                stood out

                                              is the word
                                that qualifies things dynamic
                and seceded from obligation

                                              I am not plotted
                                and structural I am
                adventitious and glimpsing

                                              it is my living
                                sews together all the
                threads eventually

                                              therefore write
                                just write       and live
                not books not essays    just relaxedly

                                scattered

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

being wormhole: rainbow
identity wormhole: a known from without the unknown
living & settling wormhole: breathe it all / in
meaning wormhole: the Buddha head in an antique shop
naïveté wormhole: vagued
obligation wormhole: irretrievable / breakdown / of marriage
seeing wormhole: I could step / more open
talking to myself & time & writing wormhole: Jean Miller kissed Salinger

 

vagued

Tags

2012, 2013, 2014, beauty, beguiled, being, biography, childhood, colour, communication, covert, emergence, eyes, identity, landscape, life, naïveté, offer, others, prophecy, role, thought, time, treasure, vague, work

 

 

 

                                vagued when young
                and beguiled by sudden colour all beautiful but the treasure
                                              I never knew
                                              I had

                                I emerged myself
                through the vague I buffed up the sudden-colour unsure
                                              as I defined myself bas-
                                              relief to my work

                                and role – maybe
                I can reveal a treasure maybe this is what I am destined to do –
                                              but they didn’t see it
                                              so I kept it to myself

                                I made the call
                there was no response eleven years twenty five years forty
                                              five years
                                              long

                                a long time
                I have kept all my wonder secret within my eyes / it seeps out at times / exposed but not expressed / still vague still unsure no platform / I cannot lead I cannot prophesy … just / let it be found                      
                                              (it is never found)
                                              (it is sometimes tripped over) … fine

                                but then hubris
                I thought I could – and I did – and I hung all my being on it – the turning point of my biography –
                                              and the bleak landscape
                                              I have found hard to bear

                                I am
                better placed / and better identified / being covert
                                              and not think
                                              I could ever part the seas

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

beauty wormhole: you are in uniform
being wormhole: achieving good-enough living
childhood & emergence & life wormhole: what to do
communication & identity wormhole: plethora: the Dark Knight Strikes Again (2002)
eyes wormhole: gazing at the night / as my eyes passed the jagged hole / my head disappeared
naïveté wormhole: (Little by Little)
others wormhole: the sounds the difficulty and the long long strands of liquorice
thought wormhole: which is worse
time wormhole: prologue
work wormhole: dream / 301197 // home

 

(Little by Little)

Tags

2013, 5*, birch, blue, buddleia, Carol, earth, evening, hands, Leicester, love, naïveté, silence, smell, UB40, walking, wind

                                                                      (Little by Little)

birches planted perfect in little squares
hand by step
scent by skin

high-wall factories standing silent with buddleia
Augustine by Anne
blue-petal by blush

the earth smell of vegetables before the riot of fabric
undercover from the evening
starch by wind-chime
logic by naïveté

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

birch wormhole: from the / bedroom / window
blue wormhole: bell
buddleia wormhole: Boy
C & Leicester & love wormhole: the strange mauve relief of / this burgundy-gritty encounter
evening & walking wormhole: we // walk
hands wormhole: ‘hand / in hand …’
naïveté wormhole: the / pyrrhic / play
silence & wind wormhole: Saturday
smell wormhole: skyline / of the evenings

 

the / pyrrhic / play

Tags

2011, 5*, being, breathing, compromise, doing, game, growth, living, naïveté, obligation, pointlessness, sitting, society, talking to myself, thinking, vindication

 

 

 

                      the
                      pyrrhic
                      play

            to be a Big Player is to play
                      a very complicated game
                                selflessly-
                                selfishly
            to know how the game works
                      know when to relinquish my view
                                to obtain the compromise
            to get what I want (as
                      pursuit of the Greater Good)        the Ends

                                                      … chorus?

                      however

            I want to pursue my own self-
                      lessness I want to sit and gain
                                nothing
            but then I become fatally exposed
                      when I try to put some relief
                                found inside myself
                                ‘out there’ persuasive in the world
            and then it becomes part of the Game
                      which I- do-not-want-to-but-have-obliged-myself
                                to Play

                                … chorus?

            my activity should come out of clear naïve response –
                      a totally un-beguiled emptiness –
                                not my success of finding the point
            not my vindication not my self
                      (because then when I am necessarily ignored
                                I become a living death)

            … chorus: don’t
                      don’t ever Play the Game just breathe
            breathe and step
                      one square at a time
                                while the rest of the Game
                                          plays itself

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

being & doing & living & naïveté & talking to myself wormhole: inexorable       naïveté
breathing wormhole: wriving
compromise wormhole: the path / no echo
game wormhole: we play a game
obligation wormhole: p                        o                   i                             n                                                   t                            l                          e                                 s   s                                          n                                                         e                   s                                                                                                  s               all around
pointlessness wormhole: anxiety
sitting wormhole: the sea plant
society wormhole: holiday
thinking wormhole: anatta
vindication wormhole: poessay V: // writing / as practice while / writing