no point

Tags

2013, anatta, being, doing, identity, letting go, meaning, non-doing, pointlessness, reaching, settling, superhero, writing

 

 

 

                     there is no point to seize
                wispy and evanescent no matter
                     how slight and deft
                         I reach

                     there is no point to make
                tensile and unassailable no matter
                     how muscular and ever
                         I hold on

                     even if I define myself
                inscrutable or heroic by them I was
                     never there to match
                         their word

 

 

 

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

being wormhole: library windows
doing wormhole: when / ever
identity & meaning & superhero wormhole: poessay X: soul love
letting go wormhole: because
pointlessness wormhole: New York Movie, 1939
settling wormhole: ‘filtered coffee …’
writing wormhole: finding my own true nature – Plumstead, Woolwich, 190915

 

poessay X: soul love – poewieview #2

Tags

2016, 7*, appearance, 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

 

sit

Tags

2010, abandonment, ageing, Batman, bedroom, being, biography, birthday, books, border, branches, cape, carpet, cars, Catcher in the Rye, childhood, children, comics, compassion, counting, cowl, crying, Dad, divorce, father, flower, fog, fracture, French, green, guru, history, house, identity, image, leaf, life, living room, lyric, marriage, moonlight, Mum, music, night, numbers, parents, pattern, planets, posture, power, Salinger, self-compassion, sentient beings, settee, shadow, sitting, skyline, speech, stone, sunlight, superhero, Superman, surrealism, talking to myself, teaching, wife, world, writing, yin yang

 

 

 

                           I stared at the pattern of the carpet
                           driving my cars behind the settee
                           while my parents said final things
                           to each other; the twirl of the branches

                           a better life, the curl of a flower;
                           you’d better go, the border; and
                           never step back in this house again,
                           the shadow of the leaf is also a

                           darker green; I had never studied
                           the pattern before – never had to,
                           never could – I can work it out now,
                           see how it repeats; I think something

                           is happening with Mum and Dad
                           on the other side of the settee; but
                           this pattern continues around the
                           whole carpet, around the whole room;

                           only later – in bed – is it announced
                           what I had already known, and only
                           then could I ask why does it have to
                           happen to us and cry; only when it

                           was announced, only when it was
                           expressed; I had already known
                           but I could only count the patterns,
                           I could only drive the cars; and

                           as I cried, I was numb – pattern
                           before settee – I could fracture
                           from the world, just find a pattern;
                           you’re the man of the house now,

                           someone said to me, so I studied
                           the pages of comicbooks – patterns
                           of power, solving under cowl,
                           jumping under cape, between the

                           skyline and the world: I shall
                           throw stones high, until they
                           don’t come down; I shall dig so low
                           that no one could follow, no;

                           I shall count all numbers; I shall
                           collect all numbers; I shall
                           discover all planets; I shall adopt
                           the posture of heroes, no; I shall

                           number the histories; I shall weave
                           the texture of music; I shall taste
                           the shock of lyric; I shall smell
                           the books, no; I shall sunlight

                           the chorus; I shall cry the biography;
                           I shall see the image, and write them
                           into existence, yes; I shall follow
                           the curl and the twist and the twirl

                           under moonlight all the night long;
                           then, I shall play catch in the rye;
                           I shall alors les boulevards; I shall
                           yin the old yang; I shall surreal in

                           the fog; I shall honour my guru
                           I shall marry my wife; I shall father
                           my children; I shall teach in those classes –
                           but forty two years on, he had still

                           just left; and I still didn’t know how
                           to be the man; time to get out from
                           behind the settee, take a seat with
                           all the others, and
                                                  just
                                                  sit there with them all awhile

 

 

 

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

abandonment & divorce wormhole: … back to the outbreath
Batman wormhole: zok! and pow!
bedroom & Dad wormhole: 1959 –– MANHATTAN –– 2012
being & identity & talking to myself & world & writing wormhole: out!
books wormhole: library: start where you are IV // all the distance I have travelled!
branches wormhole: Exceat to Cuckmere Haven
carpet wormhole: Ashdown Forest / 080213 14:47
cars wormhole: after all?
childhood & music wormhole: fantasia
comics wormhole: Detective Comics #345
compassion wormhole: de Boeddha // of light
father wormhole: sight / seeing
fog wormhole: my life / of others
green wormhole: three musicians
history wormhole: Brugges April 2015 – looking lost
house wormhole: House by the Railroad, 1925
life & speech wormhole: “write, let’s break outta here!”
living room wormhole: Woolwich Central – making life better II
Mum wormhole: dream 230315
night wormhole: mauve / night
posture & sitting & superhero wormhole: exactly equal
power wormhole: the continental stride of trains
shadow & teaching wormhole: … anymore
skyline wormhole: The Louvre in a Thunderstorm, 1909
stone wormhole: Evening Wind, 1921
Superman wormhole: escape from Flat Planet

 

exactly equal

Tags

2013, doing, equilibrium, experience, gentleness, posture, practice, settling, sitting, superhero, superpower, talking to myself, weight

 

 

 

                important to settle gently into sitting
                                              (into doing)
                                not heroically like a superpower but with
                                cold
                                brass
                                weight
                exactly equal to the experience and posture in the cup
                                                                                 on the opposite end
                                                              of the arm

 

 

 

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

doing & practice wormhole: practice
posture wormhole: ambling around / the garden centre
settling & talking to myself wormhole: recovered
sitting wormhole: now, the verticals go down as well as they go up
superhero wormhole: escape from Flat Planet
superpower wormhole: just words wiped across a line

 

escape from Flat Planet

Tags

2015, angle, being, buildings, comics, doing, identity, life, meaning, pointlessness, purpose, renunciation, speech, superhero, Superman, talking to myself, time

 

 

 

                                                              escape from Flat Planet

                                                              ugh, must … get good … at
                                              anything … make everything
                                around me – worthwhile

                                – except
                I don’t know what to do
                                              in a life that hides its worth
                                presumed rhetorically
                                experienced missing … hngh, if

                                I …
                                can do … what
                             I can
                exponential [to what I am] maybe,
                just maybe, I will find the right angle
                out of all this seeming plane,
                                                              maybe I could soar the tallest building
                                with a single bound

                                and yet …
                and still decades on
                                I am bound in old borders
                arranged cleverly on a page
                                four-colourful and heroic but still unable
                                              to account for the
                                              always-higher
                                              rooftop
                                from which I can swing
                                                              despite all the words of bubble balloon and effect

                                … I have to accept
                being unmasked again and again –
                                              but it is so humiliating …
                                              so much depends upon
                                              my strong arm; don’t you see!!! –
                                … have to become
                                my own secret identity
                                beneath all dimension

 

 

 

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

being & doing wormhole: silhouette: // second / thoughts
buildings wormhole: up here
comics wormhole: Dr Strange VII – the madness of Mordo
identity wormhole: truly invisible
life & pointlessness & time wormhole: on walking through walls
meaning wormhole: nothing // matters
renunciation wormhole: Tulips by Sylvia Plath – How Far To Step Before You Raise The Other Foot
speech wormhole: let’s have some ice creams
superhero wormhole: Woolwich Central – making life better II
Superman wormhole: multifarious: the Dark Knight Returns (1986)
talking to myself wormhole: my life / of others

 

Woolwich Central – making life better II

Tags

2012, 9*, city, compassion, fear, identity, life, lifetimes, living room, love, pain, prayer, question, reading, silence, sky, space, superhero, Victorian houses, voices, walls, windows, Woolwich, words

 

 

 

                           Woolwich Central – making life better II

                           passing the gothic Victorian house pointing
                           skywards in all directions partitioned to
                           so many living rooms I know how much

                           I cannot be the superhero to the voice
                           sustained in high-register and edge of fear
                           let alone for the silent voice that sits by the

                           hollow wall under the table; can I rend
                           those walls asunder and pike the onslaught
                           with a single glance deep into the whorl

                           of flinch and recoil of a lifetime of no register?
                           can I scoop up the silence and hold it foetal
                           forever safe from division before the window?

                                          can I?

                                          spell:–

                           may the pain of scream and the silence
                           of numb build the very thirteen floors of
                           open-plan living in the centre of the city that

                           they never quite found when they committed
                           their lives together for life and may all the fear
                           and cower magnify transparent exponential

                           to the tangle that pulls it all tight into its own
                           relief – the space forever at its heart as the
                           space between these words that allows them to be read

                           thank you

 

 

 

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

city wormhole: city twilight
compassion wormhole: Plumstead – Woolwich 121114
identity wormhole: just words wiped across a line
life & lifetimes & love & reading & sky & space & walls wormhole: 1959 –– MANHATTAN –– 2012
living room wormhole: tag cloud poem VIII – growth
silence wormhole: ‘the walking stick …’
superhero wormhole: amid
Victorian houses & Woolwich wormhole: Plumstead – Woolwich – Plumstead 290508 – / the breath of London
voices wormhole: new year’s eve 2014; train up to London to / walk the bridges across the Thames, and / listen to the voices say it is, and was, like, / but get back home before the fireworks / obliterate it all in the emptying twilight
windows wormhole: 1977
words wormhole: career came to naught …

 

amid

Tags

2012, 4*, abandonment, abdomen, being, Dad, doing, identity, life, superhero

 

 

 

                                              I do
                                              do good
                despite my mistakes – there’ve been a few
                                despite
                that no one notices
                                despite
                that it’s just not what we need
                                despite
                that Dad left and couldn’t come back to make sense of it
                                for me
                                despite
                that I try and try but I just don’t get it
                                despite
                that I am secretly a superhero
                                despite
                that I am often wrong

                                              well, no
                                              not
                                despite
                                              but
                if I gathered myself together and moved through my abdomen
                                              without flexing
                                I would do
                                some good amid
                                              all this woe

 

 

 

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

abandonment & Dad & doing & identity wormhole: tag cloud poem V – draft-ness
abdomen wormhole: 25% scaffolding & rope
being wormhole: ‘just popping down / to the shops’
life wormhole: words
superhero wormhole: lost self

 

lost self

Tags

2012, 4*, Bodhisattva, career, contentment, identity, life, love, powerlessness, recognition, self-compassion, superhero

 

 

 

                                     when ignored and powerless I say
                                     nothing and wish I was a superhero
                                              trouble is
                                     I am ever invisible and by-the-way which
                                     then tips me to wish I was a titanic bodhisattva

                                              if only
                                     I could get all my acts
                                     together and stop feeling sorry for my constant
                                              lost self
                                     I would feel more comfortable in the love
                                     I have rather than awkward in the recognition
                                              I don’t

 

 

 

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

career & recognition wormhole: I don’t think I could do it anymore
identity wormhole: tag cloud poem III – the journey to BEING and back again
life wormhole: transition
love wormhole: again
superhero wormhole: inverse superhero

 

inverse superhero

Tags

2012, 5*, career, creativity, identity, listening, managerialism, night, purpose, responsibility, speech, superhero, Superman, teaching, tragedy

 

 

 

                                   ignore my creation and offer
                                   then tell me to take responsibility
                                   if I want to be heard even though

                                   I can only test the weight
                                   and sway of a re spon si bi li ty
                                   in a place where the walls listen

                                   so I’ll continue to work
                                   with purpose and tragedy
                                   deep into the silent nights to which

                                   ignore that I am wasted and
                                   presume me unnecessary
                                   then suffer me withdrawn then

                                   want me mi nu te ly attentive
                                   to every ache pain and crisis and
                                   all the while imply that I don’t

                                   I am an inverse superhero

                                   everything that is faster taller
                                   and somewhat super in me
                                   doesn’t shift waft or is even noticed

                                   and my secret identity
                                   is suffered to be around ‘if only
                                   he had a bit more élan’

 

 

 

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

career wormhole: successive scenes in the autobiopera / conflict and resolution in each episode // credits: me me me me me
creativity wormhole: ashramas
identity & teaching wormhole: again
listening wormhole: through the window
managerialism wormhole: :just wondering
night wormhole: I don’t know what to do …
speech wormhole: Herbert Road diptych
superhero wormhole: the / Woolworth / Building
Superman wormhole: anatta

 

the / Woolworth / Building

Tags

2012, 5*, being, breathing, doing, identity, life, settling, sitting, superhero, talking to myself

 

 

 

                                            the
                                      Woolworth
                                        Building

                     the map and grid projects of my life
                     all too impatient to let things happen
                           by themselves

                     I cannot be satisfied with the
                     girth and background of my living
                           breathing

                     I have to put on a superhero costume
                     and write an essay with them in
                           the sky

                             legs folded on the ground
                                hands sitting in the lap
                                     spine straight up
                                        and relaxed
                                            breath

 

 

 

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

being wormhole: seeing / clear
breathing wormhole: every time ambition / breathes
doing & superhero wormhole: NOW!!!
identity & sitting wormhole: don’t move
life wormhole: ashramas
settling & talking to myself wormhole: don’t move